Simon winced as the alcohol-soaked gauze made contact, his breath catching.
“Sorry, Sir.”
Damn it. Fulbright wasn’t supposed to see. it was bad enough he had noticed Simon was favoring one arm. He should have been more subtle. He’d assumed the detective wouldn’t notice, after all, the man hardly noticed anything else. Why now?
It wasn’t like it was a particularly bad injury. A cut on the back of his shoulder. technically he had been shanked, but the word implied much more damage then was actually present.
It just hurt like hell. Hardly worth making a fuss over.
Fulbright clearly didn’t think so, carefully cleaning the cut, before setting the bottle of rubbing alcohol down just a little too loudly, and reaching for the clean gauze. They sat for a long moment, before Fulbright broke the silence, a simple, brusk statement.
“Infirmary as soon as we get back.”
“Not bloody likely.”
“Yes bloody likely! you can’t just disregard your own health, this should have been reported!”
“I’m not reporting anything.”
“Well I am!”
“No, you arn’t.” Simon tried to get up, but Fulbright grabbed his good shoulder, pushing him back down.
“You’re not getting up until I tell you, Sir.”
Simon sat, sucking in his frustration. “…..It will heal on it’s own, Fulbright. The cell’s conditions are not so dreadful as to prevent it.” Slow it, perhaps, but given time..
“That’s not Justice! besides, an injured shoulder can follow you the rest of your life!”
Ah. The rest of his life. How….optimistic.
They sat in silence while Fulbright tied off the bandage, nice and tight, and Simon pulled his shirt back up over his shoulder, only wincing slightly. He re-did the buttons, and Fulbright helped him back into his vest and coat. He would rest later. Right now, there was work to be done.
Thanks for reading! I’m a big simon fan, so of course these are the characters I grabbed. Hope you like it!
