The Medic - Book One

CHAPTER NINE

On a quiet Sunday, Percy was cleaning the cots when Street burst through the door, his appearance startling and concerning: his hands were clamped over his nose, trying futilely to stem the flow of blood that seemed relentless, his uniform splattered with alarming streaks of red.

Percy, ever the professional despite their growing friendship, sprang into action, his immediate concern overriding any shock at Street's state. "Street, what the hell happened?" he demanded, guiding him quickly to a chair, his eyes scanning for the source of the bleeding.

"It won't stop," Street managed to say between his attempts to control the bleeding, his voice muffled and tense with frustration.

Assessing the situation with a critical eye, Percy realized the med bay wasn't equipped to handle this without risking a mess. "We need to get you cleaned up first. This is...a lot," Percy said, trying to keep his tone light despite the gravity of the situation.

The decision to move to the shower in his apartment was practical, given the circumstances, but it led to an unexpectedly intimate scenario. Percy, with a firm yet gentle touch, helped Street out of his bloodied clothes, down to his boxers, trying to keep the situation as professional as possible despite the unusual circumstances.

Street, for his part, was a mix of embarrassment and gratitude, the absurdity of the situation not lost on him but overshadowed by his trust in Percy's medical expertise.

Once in the shower, Percy instructed Street to tilt his head back slightly, letting the cool water run over his face in hopes of easing the bleeding. The sight of blood swirling down the drain was unsettling, but Percy remained focused, his mind already racing through the possible treatments.

The cut, when finally visible, was deep but not life-threatening, nestled awkwardly at the bridge of Street's nose. Stitching was the logical choice, but the location made it impractical, if not impossible. Medical glue, then, was the next best option—a decision Percy made with a mix of reluctance and determination.

As he prepared the glue, explaining the procedure to Street with a calm he wasn't entirely feeling, the unexpected happened. Street, overcome by a sudden urge, sneezed violently, spraying Percy with a fine mist of blood.

The moment was grotesque, shocking, and oddly comical all at once. Percy stood frozen, a look of disbelief on his face as he processed what had just happened. Street, mortified, began to apologize profusely, his words tumbling out in a rush of embarrassment and concern.

Percy, after the initial shock, couldn't help but laugh—a deep, genuine laugh that filled the small bathroom and eased the tension. "Well, that's a first," he managed to say, wiping his face with a towel, his amusement evident despite the grim situation.

Street joined in, the laughter serving as a bizarre but effective icebreaker, turning an awkward and uncomfortable situation into a shared joke. It was another unexpected twist in their evolving relationship, a story they would undoubtedly retell with a mix of horror and humor.

Once the laughter subsided, Percy, ever the professional, finished the job, sealing the cut with the medical glue with a steady hand. The rest of the evening was spent in a more subdued manner, cleaning up and ensuring Street was comfortable and well-cared for.

After the unexpected sneeze incident left Percy covered in blood, he quickly excused himself to allow Street some privacy in the shower. Handing Street a set of clean clothes – a pair of blue sweatpants and a soft, well-worn T-shirt – Percy couldn't suppress a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. "Make sure you get all of that cleaned off; I don't need a repeat performance," Percy quipped, his humor defusing any lingering embarrassment Street might have felt.