If it takes all night, or a hundred years | COD Alex/Farah

Chapter 4

Farah knew she wasn't going to sleep that night. The food and the black coffee and the solid presence of Gaz and Price had settled her a bit. And they didn't take long with Alex. They didn't have a way to do a CT scan but an x-ray told them with little doubt that he had no major internal bleeding. Most of his injuries were surface level. Cuts, bruises, his dislocated fingers. Two broken ribs, a shoulder that had been dislocated and popped back into place. Everything was properly cleaned and wrapped.

The concern, then, was the severe case of pneumonia and the fever his infected wounds had brought. The trauma wasn't huge, not like losing a leg, but he was weak and if they couldn't treat it then the damage would reach further and further. It was terrifying to her. Another thing she didn't understand. Blood and broken bones were things she could see and feel and fix. This wasn't.

One of the medics was American. The only other one Farah had ever successfully learned to trust. She was stoic, professional, but they had gotten close enough to address each other by first name.

"Farah." She nodded at her where she sat alone in the hall, waiting.

"Bella." Farah welcomed her as she sat beside her. She didn't just welcome the woman to sit, she welcomed her honest assessment of the situation. "Tell me."

She folded her hands in her lap. "Not much to tell. He's going to be out for a while thanks to all the drugs, and that's good. He needs the rest." She watched for Farah's reaction but the woman kept it well hidden. "You guys found him just in time, I think. If we can get his fever down then I'll be really confident."

"If not?"

Bella Sloane looked at her hands. "There's no way to know how long it's been this high. I can treat the pneumonia, I think, and keep it from getting worse, but if the fever doesn't go down then the rest of his organs are in danger." She looked up. "You should go and see him."

She stood and left, leaving Farah less sure, torn between wanting to sit beside him and not wanting to see him that way at all.

--

Bella sought Price. He was in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee in spite of the late hour. His eyes smiled at her but he hadn't shaken the solemn demeanor. He sat his cup down and leaned forward. She sat across from him and took it, taking a sip.

"That bad, huh." He mumbled.

"No. Not exactly." She sighed and leaned back. "You know, John. We don't really have what we need here."

"I have confidence in you, Sloane." His voice didn't back up the statement.

"If we take the happy path, everything goes to plan, then he'll probably make it."

"But."

"But. But if I was on a bigger base, or back in the city, I'd at least be able to do a CT scan. See how bad the damage is."

He nodded. "There's no way out, Bella. Not right now."

She smiled softly. "I know that. And I know we can take care of it. Farah's medics are more used to this. I just needed someone to tell me I'm okay."

"Better than okay." A tired smile finally found his mouth.

"And what about you, Captain? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." He shook his head. "I don't know where we're headed or what we're facing but I'm glad we're all back together."

Sloane watched him pull his coffee cup back across the table and fidget with it. She knew he cared about the people they had stayed behind to help, and he cared about the people inside that base.