Page 107 of Theta

"That's what they said. They got the notice right as they were about to come in here.” He shrugs, palms flipping up and then slapping to his sides. "They left. Wouldn't finish the op because they wouldn't get paid with Pugli dead."

"That is a stroke of luck for all of us." She indicates Killian. "You must let me fix that shoulder, now."

"Killian?" I say, my tone rising in warning.

"He would not let me do anything. Either he was going to die, in which case it is wasted effort, or he is needing more doctoring after the fighting."

"Killian, you idiot. You need a sling."

"He needs more than that. He needs stitches. He needs antibiotics. He has fever. I am worried he has an infection."

"KILLIAN!"

Now that I look at him more closely, he's sheened with sweat, looking peaked and pale.

"You're functioning through sheer force of will, aren't you?"

"Gotta protect you."

"It's over now," I whisper. "We're okay."

He blinks at me, suddenly looking peaked and about to pass out; the adrenaline has left him, and now the cost of pain has come due. "Over. It's over?"

"They're gone. Pugli is dead. It's over."

He deflates, the realization finally sinking in, and in so doing saps the last of his resolve.

He slumps back against the wall and slides to the floor. "Oh."

I look at Dante, who fortunately does know enough about guns to eject the magazine, rack the slide to eject the chambered round, and then sets the gun on the bed near me.

"Come now, mio amico americano. You need to sleep for a week, okay? Okay. I will help you." Dante helps Killian to his feet and half-carries him out of the room.

Dr. Lia lingers. "He loves you very much," she says to me. "He sat just there," She points to a spot a foot from where my head is. "For the time you are asleep. No moving, no leaving. We bring him food and drink. He would not sleep. He would not let me tend to him. Not until he knew you would live."

"Jesus. Stubborn asshole."

"Even in love, the men are difficult."

"Especially in love."

This gets a laugh. "True, true. Only when I am assuring him you are going to recover will he let me show him where to sleep."

"So this whole time, he's had a broken shoulder and two open gunshot wounds?"

"What am I to do? Make him let me help?"

I sigh. "No, no, it's not you. He's just so damned stubborn." I glance at her. "I have a question. Why did those men think this was a supply closet?"

She smiles, and there's mischief in it. "Do you think you are the first to need un medico without the asking of questions? Giuseppe, always is he living on the wrong side of the law. He is good at his heart, but sometimes?" A shrug, and she moves on. "This room is hidden. From the outside of the building, you do not see this room. Only a window, could be anything. From the hall, you think it is a supply closet. I have a sign and all. Once, this was a…a living place for the church men. In the robes? With the singing." She does an effective approximation of Gregorian chanting, albeit she sings gibberish and not real Latin. "Like so."

"Ah. This was a monastery. For monks."

“Yes, yes, this. A monastery for monks. Through many wars it is an ospedale, where the soldiers go to recover. Then it is only a ruin. And then I purchase it. Make it my own ospedale. And sometimes, I need a hidden place. So here you are."

"Clever."

"Necessaria."