“Tara seriously,” you laughed pushing her hand away from where she was holding a cloth to your eyebrow, “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“Y/N, the bitch hit you with her gun. You’ve got blood everywhere and a fucking egg forming on your forehead. You are not fine,” she gently pulled the cloth away and you saw her cringe when the bleeding continued, hurriedly pressing it right back on your injury causing you to hiss, “Sorry. This shouldn’t need stitches. You sure you don’t feel dizzy? Sick at all?”

You shook your head, abruptly stopping when Tara grabbed your chin and gave a stern look. You loved your friend, you really did. And it was unbelievably handy having a doctor so handy, especially for times like this. But right now, all you wanted to do was crawl your way down to the dorms and pass out wrapped in a comfortable blanket. It had been a big night.

“No, Tarz. No dizziness, no wooziness, no seeing double, no concussion.” You smiled at the wall but quickly dropped it when you heard a new voice enter the room.

“And no fuckin’ common sense either apparently,” Chibs stood with his arms crossed in the doorway, even though you were hidden by Tara’s form you could feel his glare on you, “Doc, do you mind givin’ me and my lovely lady a minute.”

It wasn’t said as a question. Tara caught your eye and asked you a silent question. You lifted the corner of your lip slightly and nodded, lifting your hand to take hold of the cloth on your eyebrow.

Chibs shifted closer, sharing a look with Tara as she left the room.

“You want to explain what happened tonight, my lovely?”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m you would’ve heard by now.”

He sighed deeply, pursing his lips and staring at the wall behind before he made his way over to have a closer look at your injury, “Aye, I heard. What the fuck were you doing wrestling a gun out of that crazy gash’s hands?”

“She was pointing the thing at Tara, Chibs! You should’ve seen her - she would’ve used it. I didn’t think she was gonna fucking pistol whip me.”

He muttered a stop movin’ at your animated explanation, “Ima’s fuckin’ nuts, Y/N. You know that.”

You sighed and nodded lightly. He was right, Ima was nuts. When she’d shown up looking for a night with Jax you knew the evening was going to be anything but boring. You hadn’t expected her to pull a gun on Tara after she’d told her that he wasn’t there and to fuck off. So what if Tara had socked her in the eye first?

Chibs tilted your head up to face him, bending down to give you a light peck, “No more fuckin’ gun fights. That’s my job.”

“How come you get the exciting job.” You joked, gazing up at him. He chuckled and checked the light swelling on your eyebrow.

“Because you, my lovely, have to take it easy while you’re growin’ our babe,” one of his hands drifted down to your noticeable bump, “That’s the most important job.”

You hummed in agreement, “I wish your ‘wee babe’ would hold back on the morning sickness.”

Chibs let out a laugh through his nose and got to his knees in front of you, bringing his forehead to rest on your growing stomach, “I’m sure she’ll make it up to you when she gets here.”

You ran a hand through his greying hair, “She?” You felt him hum against your shirt.

“I know these things. Call it Scottish intuition.”

“I guess wisdom comes with age.” That earned you a pinch on the thigh.

“You’re lucky I love you, you cheeky shite.”

“Could say the same, old man.”

Chibs shook his head and used your thighs to push himself up so he was level with your face, “No more putting yourself in those situations, Y/N. I’m serious.”

You raised a hand to cup his face and brushed your thumb against his cheek, “I know. No more gun fighting. Promise.”