CARTER

XXVII

LILLY

It was late at night, so I decided to take Sarah's shift and let her take the night off. Poor thing was running a fever.

Fortunately, everything was quiet in the ER. The hospital felt like no one was there and it got colder. I hadn't seen Josh today even though I wanted to because I wanted to make sure if he was okay.

I take a deep breath and yawned. I wanted to go home and sleep but I couldn't. Not with him there anymore. I hung behind the reception counter, sitting in the chair with my feet up and scrolling through my phone. A hand smacks on the marble and I look up with a jolt. He catches his breath and his eyes go drowsy "Missed me?"
Then he falls. I run around the counter and he's on the floor. A knife clenched to his right hand. His white shirt was bloody and his light blue jeans too. I'm on my knees in an instant and put my fingers on his pulse. It was weak but it was there.

He whispers "Police are after me." My eyes go wide and I grab the vacated wheelchair on the side and rolled it down near us. I crouch down, wrapped my arms around his chest, and tried to pick him up. He was too heavy that I begged "Romano, you need to help me here, please!" He does. He helps me stand up and as soon he's in the wheelchair, he leans back with a grunt and closes his eyes catching his breath. I roll him down the hall. Thank god no one was here. Thank god no one was here.

I push the chair into the private room that I knew was empty and I close the door.
I help him into the bed and he lays down with a loud grunt.

I freak out but my body stays calm "What the hell happened?" He groans and coughs "Luca ambushed us at our warehouse outside the city. He sent men to kill us." I'm quick in unbuttoning his shirt. He chuckles in pain "I didn't know you were into this kind of thing, Lilly." I roll my eyes and inspect the damage. A deep cut under his right collarbone and his left peck. Busted lip even though his previous wound wasn't healed yet, a bloody nose, and blood ran down from his temple to his cheek. He was constantly sweating and looked exhausted as hell. I say "Stay here."

I run out to get everything I need. A damn needle, gauze, saline, pain meds, thread, and gloves. Why am I always the one to stitch him up?

Then I ran back to him with the things in my arm. I put them all on the bed beside his and I wear the gloves. My hands shook for some reason, and nausea rose in my throat. I felt my dinner coming up to my neck. It was just hard to stitch him up sometimes and I don't know why. It made me crazy, it made me forget all my nursing training. It was bad.

He notices it, he notices my hands shaking when I tried putting the thread in the eye of the needle. He groans my name "Lilly," I look up and his voice goes softer by the second "Lilly," I step closer and lean down to hear what he's saying. His voice is a whisper "You've done this before, baby" he's going in and out of consciousness. I swallow "Romano, keep talking to me." He gives me a weak smile "You hate when I talk."