The relatively trouble free bicycle ride to Nagaraja’s had lulled Lachlan into a false sense of security. That, combined with the presence of Fiona at his side - however shakey she might be - led to overconfidence in his abilities. When the pharmacists swung his door open wide, Lachlan took one step forward and very nearly keeled over on the spot. He flung a hand out, catching the doorframe and gripping the wood as if his life depended on it.
With his eyes closed against the world as it swum in and out of focus, Lachlan drew in a deep, steadying breath. One, two, three, four, five… He exhaled slowly, then opened his eyes, stepping over the entrance with more caution than before. With Fiona safely inside too, Lachlan swung the door shut behind them.
“Shrapnel in my back, Fiona had to heal the wounds so that we could…” make our getaway “...come for a late night visit.” The drawled explanation was at odds with the way Lachlan sat down on his stool so heavily, and he winced sharply as pain lanced through his core. The damage he had sustained was obvious enough, Fiona could and would speak to her own suffering.