Hellcat

Chapter Eight

After checking the apartment building for anymore injured, the three of us rushed Mrs. Cardenas to the nearest hospital. Sirens blared all around us as we rushed through the chaotic streets. Bursting through the emergency room door, there were injured everywhere. People all clamored for medical attention. Nurses and doctors rushed to the nearest injured person.

"We need help!" Foggy shouted as he and Karen ushered Mrs. Cardenas through the hospital with me right behind them. Karen had insisted that I try to relax as much as possible with my injured arm. "Hey! Hey! I got an elderly woman over here and she's bleeding bad!" Foggy continued to shout. "Where is she hurt?" a voice called from behind us. Spinning around, I saw it was Claire. I recognized her, but knew she wouldn't recognize me.

"Are you a nurse?" Karen asked Claire, noticing her street clothes rather than scrubs. "Yeah," Claire responded before carefully moving the towel away from Mrs. Cardenas' forehead. "Pretty bad laceration," Claire said before gently leading Mrs. Cardenas towards a wall to lean against. The two spoke Spanish for a moment before Claire looked to us. "What's her name?" she asked us quickly. "Mrs. Cardenas. Elena," I said, correcting myself. Claire spoke some Spanish to Mrs. Cardenas, checking her over before leading her to another part of the hospital. "We'll wait here for you Mrs. C!" Foggy called before throwing out some broken Spanish.

"She's gonna be... she's gonna be fine," Karen said, mostly for her own benefit than ours. "I'm just glad we were with her," Foggy said with a small nod. "Yeah," Karen agreed. Taking a moment for myself, I allowed my body to process the pain it felt. I knew I would have some sore muscles, but the big injuries were to my arm and head. Absent a mirror, I glanced down at my arm. The chunk of glass sticking out of my flesh was pretty big, but it didn't look too deep.

"Jesus, look at this. It's like a war zone out there," Foggy said, catching my attention. My gaze snapped to the TV to see the news showing images of buildings up in flames. "We better call Matt and make sure he's okay," Foggy said quickly. "Yeah," Karen agreed. As Foggy reached into his pocket for his phone, his jacket pulled back enough that I could see a wound I hadn't noticed before. "Foggy, you're bleeding," I told him, my voice almost clinical. Yet, there was a hint of concern there. "Huh?" Foggy asked before I pulled back his jacket to reveal blood running down the side of his chest. Karen gasped at the sight. "Oh, that explains it," Foggy groaned softly. "Explains what?" Karen asked him. "The stabbing pain in my side," Foggy groaned again, his features contorting to match the pain he described.

"Foggy!" Karen snapped out of concern as I released his jacket and grabbed his arm. "Sit," I said, leading him over to an empty chair. "Here, just, uh, just stay here. I'm gonna go and try to find somebody, okay?" Karen said, trying to contain the frantic tone in her voice. "You too. Stay here," she added to me before she turned around and started her search.

"How are you not freaking out right now? You have glass in your arm," Foggy asked me, his breathing labored. "You have glass in your side," I reminded him. "Yeah, but I'm in pain. You look fine," Foggy explained before letting out a small moan. I bit the inside of my lip. He thought I didn't feel it – the pain. But I did. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I knew how to compartmentalize the pain. How to shove it down into some deep dark hole until I could process it. I decided to let myself feel the pain then, giving a small groan as I looked down at my arm.

"I've had worse," I told him, squeezing my arm just below the glass. "Like what?" Foggy asked. I knew what he was doing – he was trying to distract himself from the pain. "You mean other than the knife to the side?" I asked him with a small chuckle. "Uh, let's see. I was shot in the calf in Qatar," I said with a small shrug. Foggy let out a surprised laugh. "Qatar? What, were you in the military or something?" he asked me. I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," I told him with a shrug. "That explains so much," he told me, groaning once more as he shifted in his chair.