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"Give me time," he says.

"How much?"

"I don't know yet." Lincoln is the same as me when it comes to computers, we both know what to do, but he isn’t at Miles' level either.

I look at Miles on the floor, and at the doctor's hands working steadily. He’s working too slow. We need time and I know that Miles doesn't have it, Sadie doesn't have it either and these two facts are pulling me in opposite directions and I'm standing in the middle of them, not knowing which to deal with first.

"How is he?" I ask the doctor.

"Stable. Barely." He doesn't look up. "The bullet missed the subclavian by less than I'd like. He's lost a significant amount of blood. He needs a hospital to get the bullet out, Mr. Crawford. He needs…"

"He needs to wake up," I say.

“What?” I hear Mason at the door.

The doctor's hands pause for a fraction of a second, then keep moving. "That's not advisable. His body is managing the trauma right now, bringing him around to significant pain and…"

"Wake him up."

"Sir…"

"If he wakes up and we've already lost his girl…" I stop. "That will be the worst of it. Not the bullet." I hold the doctor's gaze. "Wake him up."

The doctor looks at me for a long moment, then he looks at Miles, shakes his head, and reaches for his bag.

Mason stands next to me. Declan and Hayden appear in the doorway, both of them say nothing.

The doctor looks at me once again, and I nod.

Thirty-Two

Miles

Pain explodes through my chest before I move an inch, it’s deep, and radiating from the wound below my collarbone like fire under my skin. My vision whites out at the edges. My elbow hits the floorboards again before I’ve gained any height.

I scream out in pain again, I remember being shot twice, but the one by the collarbone is a pain I’ve never felt.

I lie still and breathe through my nose, out through the mouth. The way Cain taught me years ago. Pain is information, and information can be managed. I tell myself that even as every breath feels like it’s tearing something open inside me.

Breathe. Fucking breathe Miles.

I try again, slower this time. Rolling onto my side first, the pain spikes white-hot when the wound takes any pressure, but I breathe through it until the worst of it settles, I get my elbow under me.

“Don’t.” Mason’s next to me, his hands firm on my shoulders, helping me to sit up a little better, but my body is screaming at me to stay the fuck still.

“Help me up.”

“Miles…”

“Mason.” My voice comes out rough, quieter than I want, because I don’t have the energy to talk, never mind fully stand. “Help me up.”

He stares at me for a second, but he already knows I’m getting up whether he helps or not. He slides his arm under mine.

Standing takes everything I have left. The room tilts hard and Mason's grip is the only reason I don't go down. By the time I’m upright, black spots are crowding the edges of my vision.

How much blood did I lose? And why hasn’t Doc fixed me?

I look around and turn to Mason. "Sadie?"