It’s damn good to see Tom again. I don’t think it’s as good for him to see me. As I come through the door, he pales. His jaw clenches. When an Ares man is angry, it’s an impressive thing to behold. Tom has a good grip on his temper though, and he manages to hold it together.

“What the hell happened to her?” He crosses the room over to me and half-crouches in front of me. “Mary…”

“I’m fine,” I say, stepping back before he can start gushing all over me. “Do Ken first. He’s actually broken. I’m just bruised.”

“Come over here and…”

“No,” I pull back again. Tom’s not getting it. “Ken first.”

I’d be telling Ken to go first even if my head was hanging off. I trust Tom, but medical stuff will never not creep me out. And he really does need the treatment first.

“I’ll go first,” Ken agrees. “Show you there’s nothing to be scared of.”

There’s plenty to be scared of, but not with Tom around. He examines Ken competently, puts him through an x-ray, and comes to much the same conclusion I did - broken ribs.

“You’re going to have to take it easy,” he says. “Off active duty for eight weeks at least.”

“Oh come on,” Ken grunts. “Ribs take six weeks to heal.”

“Eight weeks,” Tom insists. “Keep talking and I’ll make it twelve.”

I snort with amusement. Tom almost never gets all dominant with Ken, but in doctor mode, he’s definitely in charge. That makes me all the more nervous when it comes to be my turn.

“Alright you, up on the table,” he says, slapping the white papered surface.

I get up there against my better judgement. All I need is a painkiller and a hot towel to clean off with.

Tom starts with the cleaning, using warm water and a bit of saline.

“I know it hurts,” he says sympathetically as I try not to flinch. They really fucking caught me across the face. Tooth. Nose. Eye. All up the fuck. But it could be a lot worse.

Cleaning all the blood and stuff off takes a while. He works carefully and gently, taking care of me as best he can.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry you have to see me like this. I know I look all fucked up.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” he says grimly.

“It’s worse than it looks,” I say.

It’s true. It looks messy, but I’ve had far worse. The pain is going to kick in soon, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to give me decent enough pain relief to deal with that. Right now, I’m still running on adrenaline and I feel bulletproof.

“Settle down, little girl,” he says as I squirm under his hands.

“I’m not a little girl,” I protest. “I just killed four men with my bare hands.”

“I don’t care how many men you killed,” he says patiently. “Sit still for me while I take your blood pressure.”

“You don’t care?” I look at him under my lashes as he fits the cuff on my arm.

“I was in the military too,” he reminds me. “I know what happens.”

What we just did wasn’t the sort of thing they do in the military, I don’t think. Or maybe it is. I don’t know. I’ve never been in. It’s what I do to survive though, and I guess that’s similar enough.

“I think you’re alright,” he says finally. “You’re going to need to see a dentist for that tooth… other than that, I’m not seeing anything of medical concern. You’re bruised, but everything is intact.”

“See? I’m fine.”

“Mhm,” Ken rumbles.