The Bleeding Crowd (30 page)

“Like what?”

“Compress his legs maybe?” She sat back on
her heels, pitching the bridge of her nose and taking a long breath
before finding his pulse on his wrist again. “I’d say make him mad,
but...really, I don’t think there’s anything we can do. This isn’t
what I do. We just have to hope that the blood loss...”

Jude just looked at her. “But, he’s
alive.”

Dahlia nodded. “His pulse is weak, but there,
so, yeah.”

“There’s really nothing else we can do?”

“Unless you have a couple liters of O
negative that we can transfuse, no, that’s it.”

Ben’s eyes fluttered half-heartedly.

“Ben?” Dahlia touched his face, unsure
whether or not to be happy the color that was slowly coming back to
his cheeks or worried about how clammy his skin still was. “Ben?
Can you hear me?”

He didn’t open his eyes, but spoke in a quiet
voice. “Yes.”

“Good.” She smiled with relief. “Just lay
right there. Don’t move.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He breathed.
“Water?”

Jude moved to one of the glasses, but Dahlia
held out a hand to stop him. “You don’t give people in shock
liquids. My ER knowledge may be rusty, but I know that much.”

“Why not?” Jude frowned.

“I don’t know, something about the digestive
system not really functioning...” Dahlia wiped her forehead. “I
really don’t deal with this kind of thing, Jude. I don’t think I’ve
seen as much blood as I have on this trip since a rather disturbing
class right before I started my internship. I deal with colds and
herbs...”

“Water,” Ben repeated.

“I’m going to give you a couple sips, okay?”
she said. “Don’t try to take too much.”

Ben took what she would give him, trying to
breathe deeply. He turned his head to look at her. “You’re covered
in blood.”

“It’s not mine, I assure you.” She smiled.
“You shouldn’t have bled out so fast. The bullet must have nicked
something...or I did trying to get the bullet out.”

“I think you ruined the ‘not a doctor thing,”
he said in a quiet voice.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t a doctor.” She checked
on his shoulder. “I said not a surgeon, and I’m not. I specialized
in immunology and now I’m basically a herbologist.”

“I’m alive,” Ben said.

“I’m pretty sure that’s more luck than
anything,” she said, pressing on his shoulder.

He flinched a bit, but didn’t say
anything.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I really need to make
sure the bleeding’s stopped. You don’t want to go back into shock.
It’s amazing you’re conscious again already.”

“Always been a quick healer,” he said.

She offered a weak smile. “Are you warm
enough? Too warm?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what else to do.” She
shook her head. “You should have dragged along someone from the
ER.”

He frowned. “Emergency...?”

“Emergency room,” she said. “They’re the ones
who deal with people in mortal danger.”

“You care about me more than anyone from
there, I’m sure,” Ben said.

“Well, that’s part of the problem.” Dahlia
stroked his hair. “I’m making myself not try more at the moment.
There’s a reason we don’t treat people we really care about. The
need to make them better all too often overrides what our best
judgment would lead us to do in any other situation. Too much
doctoring can lead to death just as easily as not enough.”

“Jude and I are probably dead anyway, so I
wouldn’t beat myself up too much about not being able to do
more.”

“We’re all probably dead,” Dahlia said, “but
we aren’t right now.”

“If anyone has a chance to make it through
this, it’s you.” Jude sat down. “You’re the woman—a straight,
intellectual, brilliantly-trained woman. Ben and I are dispensable.
They kill us and there are thousands of other men out there, maybe
more than that who could fill our places, no problem. You,
though―they’ve invested decades of education, training, and
supplies on you. You’re worth more to them, if only because of the
effort they’ve put into raising you.”

“A life is a life, Jude,” she said.

“Not to them.” Jude shook his head. “We
aren’t equals in their eyes. You should know that. You used to
think that.”

Dahlia pressed her lips together, but didn’t
dispute the fact.

Ben moaned.

“Do you need a pain killer?” Dahlia focused
on him.

“I’m fine.”

“Ben...”

“I’m fine,” he repeated. “I think my body’s
just still trying to figure out that it’s still alive.”

“You’re proving to be stubbornly hard to
kill.”

“Well, I’m stubborn in every other way,
according to Jude.”

“According to most people who know you, I
would think,” she said.

“Like you’re one to talk.” He smiled weakly.
“Can I sit up?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t recommend it.
You lost enough blood for your pressure to drop and to go into
shock. You want to keep your head as low as you can to make sure
you don’t pass out.”

Jude flexed his hands. “Do you want to wash
up, Lia?”

“I’m fine.” She ignored the blood drying on
her hands.

“Mind if I do, then?”

“Go ahead,” Dahlia said, watching him go into
the bathroom before looking back at Ben

Ben turned his head to see the door. “Why
didn’t she come back in here?”

“Lisa?”

“Now that she knows you’re a doctor. You’d
think...What is she doing?”

“You expect me to know?” She stared at the
door.

“You know what women do inside.”

“I doubt we all do the same thing.” Dahlia
shook her head. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not psychic.”

“
Dahlia?”

“Yeah?”

“Just, if I do die—”

“You aren’t going to die, Ben,” she cut him
off. “Not right now anyway.”

“There’s just...I just want to say something
if I don’t get another chance before I do.”

“You don’t need to go into deathbed
confessions. You aren’t dying, not for the moment, and we both know
how well confessing works out for both of us. I’m not sure I want
to know anything else you did that I don’t know about.”

“Dahlia.” He sighed. “Will you just shut up
for once in your life and let me say my piece?”

She smiled at the familiar refrain. “Fine,
what’s your not-quite-deathbed confession?”

“Lia.” He looked at her. “I love you. I have
for what seems like a long time.”

She blinked and stared at him.

He studied her face. “Please say
something.”

“I know.”

“What?”

“As much as I have tried to be in denial, you
hear it enough, you sort of start thinking that other people are
seeing what you aren’t.”

“Heather and Jude?”

“Oh, everyone’s been absolutely sure that
we’re mad for each other since I decided to show up in the first
place, and I seem to have saved you ass enough times that I care
something for you a little more than is proper,” she said. “So, why
is that a deathbed confession?”

“What is?”

“Saying ‘I love you’.”

“There’s just never been a good time,” Ben
muttered.

“No?”

“I think we’ve both pushed each other away
more than once.”

“And now...”

“Now, I’d rather tell you and let you react
how you would rather than die and not say so.”

“How am I supposed to react?” She frowned, at
a loss.

“Well, you said you didn’t want this. You
wanted J...” He couldn’t say it. “Stability. I don’t think I can
offer you that, even if I do survive. We’re probably going to fight
until the day we die, however far away that may be.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Dahlia said. “Though
hopefully after all this is over, if by some miracle we’re around
after this, you’ll have to hide just a little less than you do
now.”

He chuckled, but the movement made him wince.
“I don’t know what I’ll be outside of this. I am this. My life is
this.”

“So you’ll make a new life.” She rubbed his
hand. “You’ve made yourself this cause, but the cause isn’t all
there is to you.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Of course.” Dahlia nodded. “I sort of hate
this, and, while I hate you too at points, I don’t hate all of you.
There’s something other than this in you.”

He sighed as though he didn’t fully agree,
but didn’t argue, and shifted. He froze, wincing dramatically.

“Don’t move.” Dahlia held her hands out as if
she were going to push him back down, but didn’t actually touch
him.

“Yeah, the shooting pain sort of told me not
to try that again.” Ben exhaled with caution.

“Let me give you something.” She went for the
bag.

“Don’t,” he said.

“It’s just—”

“Lia, don’t dare come near me with anything.
I don’t want it.”

She paused. “You don’t have to be in pain,
Ben.”

“Pain doesn’t bother me,” he said. “I’d
rather be fully alert at the moment.”

“Ben...”

“Doc, I’m refusing medical treatment. Let it
go.”

She sighed but lay down. “I hate it when you
call me Doc.”

“I haven’t recently.”

“No,” she said, “but if we make it through
this and you get well enough while we’re still here, I’m hitting
you every time you call me that.”

“So I’ll say it now, eh, Doc?”

She glared at him. He used his good arm to
pull her down next to him.

“Stop it.” She shook him off. “Tell me what
you want. As your physician, I forbid you to move anything heavy,
including me.”

“You aren’t heavy,” Ben said. “Besides, I
wasn’t shot in this shoulder.”

“Who’s the doctor here?”

He sighed. “Yes, dear. Whatever you say,
dear.”

She watched him clench his jaw so he wouldn’t
wince while shifting. “You’re sure you don’t want something.”

“It really doesn’t hurt that much,” he
said.

“Why do all you men insist on pretending
you’re never in pain?” She frowned.

“It’s a machismo thing,” Ben said. “Really, I
swear, it’s not that bad.”

“I don’t understand men.” Dahlia sighed,
exasperated.

“That’s all right.” He grinned at her. “Women
are a complete mystery to me.”

“Just to get this straight, our position is
that mixing men and women together is a good thing?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“In light of this revelation?”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Does it really
matter if it’s a good thing or not? It’s the fair thing to do.”

“The fair thing to do would be to make
everyone do the same job for the same pay in the same housing,”
Dahlia said. “I don’t see that working though.”

“We might not have the perfect system, but at
least it’s better than this one.”

“Possibly,” she said.

“Why are you here again?”

“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot.”
She shook her head. “If I weren’t, you’d be dead and I’d be at home
and not having to consider any of this.”

“With me dead.”

“If I didn’t love you, I don’t think I would
have cared.” She shrugged. “That’s just the nature of
emotions.”

“That makes me feel better.”

“It wasn’t meant to.” She smiled. “Just
because I’m finally done fighting irrational emotions doesn’t mean
I’m not going to be rational anymore.”

“You are the most rational person I know,” he
said.

“Except when it comes to you obviously.”

“Well, that’s because I’m special.”

“You’re a leader of a rag-tag group of men,
but...”

“You really are infuriating, you know
that?”

“So are you, so we work well together.” Ben
smiled.

“About time.” Jude stood in the doorway

“Come a little closer so I can throw
something at you.” Ben shot Jude a look.

“No lifting.” Dahlia frowned and yawned.

“Tired?” Jude looked at her.

She nodded. “It should be safe to move him, I
think. Do you want to help me get him on the bed?”

“I can do it.” Ben pushed himself up with his
good arm.

“You’re going to get yourself killed if you
insist on doing everything yourself.” Dahlia slid an arm around him
to help him stand.

“I’m not an invalid.”

“No, but you are a two-year-old sometimes,”
she said, nodding for Jude to help. “Careful of his shoulder.”

Ben frowned, but allowed himself to be led to
the bed to lie down.

“Dizzy?” Dahlia checked his pulse.

“Not really,” he said.

She sent him a look.

“Maybe a little.” He sighed. “It isn’t bad
though.”

“I’d say stay there until we can get you
something to eat. Your body has a lot of blood to replenish.”

“Lie down,” Ben said. “I’ll sleep if you
will.”

“You don’t think you’ll be in too much pain
to sleep?”

“Dahlia.” He sent her a look.

“Fine, I’ll let it go.” She held up her
hands. “I’m just going to wash first, we’re going to have flakes of
dried blood in the bed as it is.”

Ben nodded.

Dahlia looked at the room. “There should be
enough room for you too if you don’t want to sleep on the
floor.

“I’ll be good,” Jude said.

“You sure?”

“Guys don’t share beds,” Jude said.

“Why not?”

“It’s a guy thing.”

Dahlia sighed. “Men.”

Chapter Eighteen

They had only been asleep for a couple hours
at most when the door opened again. Ben jerked, sitting up by
instinct, before favoring his shoulder and grunting in pain.

“Thought your doctor told you not to move.”
Lisa looked at him.

The voice woke Jude from where he had put a
pillow on the floor by the bed, but Dahlia only shifted.

Lisa looked at her. “Deep sleeper.”

“Let her sleep.” Ben frowned. “She’s
exhausted.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to give
me orders.” Lisa touched the handle of her gun. “You served your
purpose. The next one could go straight for your head.”