Getting shot was not part of his plan. It was supposed to be an easy search and rescue, but a few men turned into a full-on ambush. Fortunately for the team, there was only one injury. Unfortunately for Horangi, it was a bullet to his leg. Tourniquets were no fun, especially when they were made with a dirty strip of fabric soaked in dirt and sweat. But he wouldn’t tell Hutch that, the guy was already a bundle of tense nerves.

The ride back to base was the worst, though. Every bump made his wound pulse and sear a boiling heat under his blood-soaked cargos. He held onto the edge of the tourniquet with a vice grip, teeth grinding together under his camo-printed mask. Hutch and Nikto helped Horangi to the infirmary, careful not to brush his leg while keeping his weight off it. Still, the amount of blood loss was enough to make Horangi disoriented. His bleary eyes scanned the infirmary entrance as the two soldiers helped him inside.

Each blink felt like it was an hour long. Each time his eyes craned back open he was somewhere else, time and sounds blurring together in a mind-splitting migraine. Finally, Horangi’s eyes peeled back open and he was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Sitting up with a low grunt, he quickly found himself no longer dressed in his heavy, dirty gear. He felt the cold air brushing his bare face, a feeling he didn’t particularly enjoy. He pushed off the thin blanket lying over his body, sighing at the sight of his own bandaged leg.

As the door to the room creaked open, Horangi’s eyes snapped up to meet the eyes of the nurse. His eyes flickered down to your nameplate pinned to the front of your scrubs, watching you defensively as you entered the room. He swallowed, watching you as you introduced yourself as his nurse, moving to begin checking his vitals. “Hello…” He murmured, unable to stop his gaze from trailing down your form as you turned around to pick something up. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Horangi watched his heart rate spike on the monitor.