love invents us.

So… David should have expected Lay’s system to finally crash with what he’s experienced today but he still squints… it’s not judgment (but it totally is, buck up, soldier – this is just another day at the office for David.) He doesn’t need every single medical personnel on him so they go to Lay, scooping up his unconscious body and rests it on the examination table next to David’s. “He might be dehydrated? Maybe low blood sugar?” They can’t examine him until he comes to so all everyone can do is speculate.

His wound patched up he gets up and looks at a sleeping Lay. Pushing his hair from his forehead he sighs and shakes his head once. “Let me know when he wakes up.” He requests before making his way out of the room. New shirt on and wound stabilized and covered he makes his way back to OZ, he can communicate better now with the haze of anger out of his eyes.

“Tell it to me again, O.”

He isn’t going to go an apologize to his ‘boss’ he still isn’t too happy with him, discord sucks in the workplace but you can’t like everyone you work it – that’s why it’s called work. But hearing what OZ had to say a second time he’s even more committed to finding the rat who fucked up his op. Groaning he presses the bottom of his palms into his eyes. He doesn’t get tired in that sense but when you use a lot of adrenaline, it messes with the levels in his body, serum works best with optimal levels of everything so when he’s lacking, it’s like he needs to be recharged and normal people recharge with sleep – David can’t remember the last time he had a full night of sleep.

He didn’t get the intel he was supposed to retrieve and there is a whole team cleaning up his mess from today so he doesn’t have much to do until OZ gives him more information, a starting point. So he takes a chair and drags it next to the examination table and sits. Pulling out his phone he begins to scroll aimlessly. Lay will need a familiar face when he wakes up or he’ll panic more. So David will just wait.

Things are fuzzy at first when Lay rouses and he blinks slow as he sorts through his disorientation. It takes a solid minute for him to absorb his surroundings - the strange table he’s situated on, the medical supplies on the tray a few feet away, the random people meandering about the room. For a brief second he wonders if he’s landed in some sort of crazy sci-fi film. Confusion paints his every feature until he settles on a familiar face. Only then does it all crash over him. It’s not a sci-fi film, no. The genre he’s been dealt with is much more in line with action and gun fights.

He doesn’t remember fainting at first, just that he’s exhausted and relieved him and David are okay. Criminal, good-doer or whatever the guy’s case Lay’s already grown attached and just hopes no matter what that the taller is safe in his line of work. Bits and pieces come back with the silence as his eyes coast the other’s face, admirably ogling his features. He steadily recalls the wild car chase, the injury David sustained during that time, the mortifying sound he let out in answer to the concern the other expressed moments before he passed out.