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" Wait! "
Hector called out in vain at Gemini's attempt to flee the situation. Which too, ended about as well as his own verbal attempt at stopping him: without accomplishing the intended purpose nor gaining much headway towards it. Weakly, with humour lacing his words at an attempt at strength, " Did your horoscope say not to leave the house today? It really should have. I was going to say that you shouldn't try to move yet. You've lost a lot of blood. "
He noticed, with a careful but detached sort of closeness, the shudder that passed through the other. First signs of shock, highly likely. Lingering trauma, also probably. He could help with one of the two, at least.
" I never say that I couldn't. " Remove the bullet in the his side, Hector meant without having to point out the object of disucssion embedded in Gemini's side. He could do it with his eyes closed--not that he would, his ego only demanded so much--what with half a decade of combat-tested field medicine at his fingertips. They're not even being shot at.
Not that he--and if he wanted to venture a guess, Gemini too--wanted that particular status quo to change.
" Anyway, it may not be your lucky day but before you go running off again, hear me out. "
He held up two fingers, fixing Gemini with a look that promised more than just a stern reprimand if he tried to make another hasty exit. " I can take out the bullet but not here. There's a clinic not too far from here with infinitely-fewer broken glass bottles than this side street, and surgical tools. "
One finger down. " Or I can stick a needle in you with something that'll work right now and hurt like heck. but you can be off in a couple of minutes. "
Now that he’s hearing himself, these don’t sound much like options.
