The ship's med-bay was too small, too cold, and right now, it smelled like antiseptic and blood. Mira lay on the narrow cot, her face pale under the flickering overhead light. Her arm was splinted and wrapped tight, but the pain still etched lines around her mouth.
I crouched beside her, pressing a fresh ice pack against the swelling. "Breathe. Just breathe through it."
She hissed, gripping my wrist with her good hand. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one with a *fucking* mutant fish's autograph on your bones."
I snorted, adjusting the bandage. "Next time, duck faster."
Mira groaned, but there was no real heat in it. Just exhaustion.
The door creaked open, and Leo shuffled in, uncharacteristically quiet. He had a steaming mug in one hand and a ratty blanket draped over his arm.
"Figured you could use this," he muttered, thrusting the mug at her. "It's that garbage herbal tea Yona hoards. Tastes like dirt, but it's supposed to help with pain or whatever."
