Aftermath (Part 2)

“Or get yourself shot trying to shoot someone trying to shoot me. Why the rush in run pigtails first into a firefight anyway.” Vas said moving to get the requested alcohol and swabs. “Go make tea … it’s like our code word for there going to be a fight, get out … and we have tea after!”

“I know the code. It means there will be a fight or that Jago has had enough of me and it’s best to not be around for a bit. But what if something happened to you, Onni?” She asked, pouring some alcohol on the gauze. “I would rather be shot if you were shot then have you shot without me being shot!” She gently dabbed the alcohol on his wound, and winced for him when it should have stung.

Vas scrunched his face at the sting as she dabbed his wound clean. "Then … ow … who … ow … would … ow … patch me up?" He reasoned.

Serena stopped dabbing and tilted her head for a moment to contemplate. “I guess,” She agreed, pointing to the bandages. “I don’t think this one needs stitched.”

"Yea?" He brightened. "Thank Buddha's earlobes." Vas said, getting the gauze and passing it to his mei mei. "See … what would I do without you … no one to wrap me up when I get mule kicked by a buck shot and no one to make me tea." He paused for a moment. "Seriously though there ain't no rush to learn to fight and fighting ain't the only way to be of use. You're plenty useful as is."

Serena’s shoulders slumped, and she crooked the corner of her mouth with disappointment as she taped up his shoulder.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be." Vas assured Serena with a gentle tug of a pigtail. "I mean if you wanna feel what it's like to get shot …" He added with fake innocence.

“I wanna protect you for once, ‘stead of just fixing you up after,” she emphasized, gently patting his bandage.

Vas's smile faltered a bit. "You do, all the time. " He said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Protecting isn't always shooting and fighting. But we both know that's the only thing I'm good at. Who's the one who collected the money, made the plan, kept us fed and made all the deals? Who got us on this ship. We both know that wasn't me."

“Me,” she agreed, thinking it over. “You’re my somebody. And, you’re all patched up. Let’s get your shirt back on, and you can have some of the tea I brewed. It should still be hot.”

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