Nate and Bunny- After Care
There was nothing good about today except that the three people he cared for most had made it through. That the rest had was frosting on shortbread, an extra helping of haggis, getting the last from the bottle before the whisky was shot.
It was hard to complain about the pain, and each time he winced or sucked in a breath of agony he felt guilt because he'd heal. Getting an ass full of shrapnel wasn't too bad compared to that bloke over across whose leg was blown off, or that woman who was wailing because her husband was blown apart. For them he tried to remain quiet, to be neutral, to not give too much of any one emotion. Not even too much relief when he found out that Bunny, Bode, Willa and everyone else that he'd gotten to know best, people he now considered mates and friends had nary a scratch.
He had been relieved. When he'd been wounded he'd been knocked out and when he came to he couldn't move anywhere. He was face down on a table and when he'd tried to move, to make a run for it and try to find his lady and his brother he found he'd be going nowhere.
It was only forever after and a lifetime of worry did he find out they lived and then he had liquor because there wasn't much in the way of pain medicine. Then he lay, waiting because there were others in much worse shape than him.
It was only after his butt was heavily bandaged and he was properly lubricated and tolerant of the pain was he allowed to get on, to go home and he'd tried to get up on his own, not wanting to burden his girl with the task of taking him back to their trailer.
Penny Muldoon had gone to get Bunny and let her know that Nate was trying to move on his own and wouldn't take any help.
He'd gotten ten yards out of Chapel when he leaned against a trailer. He searched his pockets for his cigarettes but came up with a crumpled pack and one with a broken filter. He put it to his mouth and lit it anyway.