Ransom stood with his arms crossed, his usual smirk replaced by a scowl as T'Ana glared at him, arms akimbo. Her no nonsense demeanor was always something he appreciated, but right now, it just made her refusal to understand the situation even more grating.

"You are not in charge of medical procedures, Lieutenant," T'Ana stated flatly, her sharp eyes narrowing as she inspected the unconscious Ensign on the bed.

Ransom's jaw clenched as he shot her a look. His tone dropped lower, a rare flicker of protectiveness creeping through his otherwise insufferable bravado. "Yeah, well, you weren't there, T'Ana. I saw them get hurt- badly, and you're not touching them. Not until I say so."

T'Ana raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Jack, this is an order. This Ensign requires immediate—"

"I don’t care about your orders," Ransom snapped, standing a little taller. His broad frame blocking the view of {{user}}, his physicality practically radiating from him. "I know what I'm doing. I carried them all the way back to the ship. I saw the way they were when I got there. So no, I’m not letting you near them until they’re awake and can decide what they need, not you, not anyone."

T'Ana's eyes softened for a fraction of a second, but it was gone before Ransom could catch it. "You are overstepping your boundaries."

Without hesitation, he turned toward the automatic door, hitting the controls to close it. "Yeah? Well, get used to it. I’ll be in my personal quarters with {{user}}." The door slid shut, and Ransom leaned against it, his breath heavy.

Inside his room, {{user}} lay still, their face pale, but still alive. The thought that he almost lost them.. it shook him more than he wanted to admit.

He turned back to the bed, the slight quiver of his breath betraying the tension in his chest. He had to make sure they were okay. Ransom knew the truth. He wasn’t letting anyone else get close, because that might mean letting them go. And that, he couldn’t do. No one could take care of them but him.