let’s see what you’re really made of

You dropped the vial you were holding and rushed to the crowd, elbowing your way to the center until you could make out Cobb's face.

"Hey sunshine-" he winced and stopped to catch his breath. There was blood- a lot of it, darkening the shoulder and chest of his red shirt.

"Stop talking-" you motioned for the others to carry him to the exam table as you scrubbed your hands in the basin sink nearby.

Shoulder wound.

Typically non-fatal.

Blaster fire- likely flesh burns and increased risk of infection.

You grabbed a pair of gloves and pulled them onto your hands. Cobb was pale, his eyes squeezed shut as he gritted his teeth and breathed through the pain.

"Here," you brandished a pair of shears and handed it to the Weequay, "cut off his shirt."

"This is my favorite shirt," Cobb muttered and you resisted the urge to slap him.

"I'll buy you a new one."

You bent low over the marshal as his shirt was stripped away; the wound was on his right shoulder- red, angry, and bordered by black, singed flesh.

"Leeza, grab me the plasma scalpel and the bacta infusion unit-" your assistant scurried off to the cabinets as you stared down at the wound.

"How bad is it, doc?" a thin sheen of sweat was forming on Cobb's knitted brow and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

"I'll have to cut your arm off-" Cobb cracked open an eye and you grinned, "Joking. But I will have to debride the burns."

"Everyone, please-" you raised your voice over the din in the small clinic, "Please head outside. I will update you on the marshal's condition as soon as I am able."

As the others cleared out, Leeza returned with your scalpel and bacta unit. You powered on the plasma blade and Cobb eyed it warily, "I don't have a pain relief field generator here. You're going to have to grin and bear it."

The blade sliced into the singed flesh and Cobb let out a genuine scream of pain, clutching at the table beneath him. The next slice had his eyes rolling back into his head as he whimpered.

"I'm almost done, Marshal-"

He didn't respond.

You sliced away the last of the damaged skin and powered off the blade, "Leeza, hook up the bacta unit while I clean up."

Your assistant began dialing in the settings on the small unit while you bagged the soiled gauze and bloodied clothing from around the room.

"Done, doc." Leeza stepped back and let you insert the needle near the border of the wound. The machine whirred to life and began pumping the blue-tinged liquid through its tubing.

You checked the marshal's pulse- thready and rapid, but it was there.

"Please go tell the others that the marshal is stable. They can visit him in the morning."

--

When Cobb awoke, he was alone in the clinic, staring up at the dark ceiling. He glanced over at his shoulder- the bacta unit was still working, thrumming along pumping the liquid into his wound.

He glanced around and spotted you asleep in the chair at your desk. Your head was lolled to the side and you still had your notebook open.

"Doc!" Cobb whispered. You didn't respond.

"Doc! Wake up!" he reached for a roll of gauze on a nearby cart and tossed it in your direction.

You jerked awake when the gauze struck you in the side of the head and blinked a few times to clear the fog.

"Cobb-" you rose to your feet and strode over to his bed, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a Bantha."

"That'll happen when you get shot," you bent low and examined his wound; it was healing nicely, already smaller than it had been the last time you checked it.

"Why aren't you at home sleeping in your bed?" Cobb cocked an eyebrow and you shrugged.

"Needed to make sure the bacta was working," you paused to yawn, "Besides, nobody is missing me there anyway."

Cobb frowned and watched you as you changed out the bacta solution. He never understood why you stayed in Mos Pelgo, or even on Tatooine; he told you that every chance he got-

"Why don't you go off-world? Get a job that pays better, leave this hellhole-"

"I like it here. I like the people here. Besides, who would treat your wounds every time you did something stupid?"

"Point taken."

You slumped into a chair next to his bed and Cobb stared at you; your hair was hanging in your eyes as you fiddled with a roll of gauze. Hesitantly, he reached out and brushed it away, tucking it behind your ear.

Your face grew warm and his hand lingered there for a moment; you were so pretty, it hurt. A kyber crystal in the sands of Mos Pelgo.

You cleared your throat and he jerked his hand away, awkwardly letting it rest across his chest instead.

"You should go home, doc," there was a twinge to Cobb's voice as he spoke, "Get some sleep."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily."

--

--