Buck froze, her eyes widening and a sudden, stricken look on her face.

Alec had never seen her freeze before. Not before high level meetings with command, not during drills on the Reverent… she hadn’t even frozen during Frontier Day when half the crew had tried to kill them and they’d been forced to fight deck by deck.

Isabella Buchanan did not freeze. But she was frozen right now staring at the man on the ground.

What the hell—

Didn’t matter. He had a patient and he was bleeding out right there on the stone covered decking. Which meant Alec was already moving.

“Hey, I’m Alec. I’m a doctor.” He said as his knees hit the ground beside the wounded man. “I’m just gonna take a look at this, okay?”

His movements were swift and efficient as he dealt with the cravat, then the waistcoat and shirt to get at the gunshot wound. It was on the upper left chest. He kept his expression neutral and vaguely pleasant with the ease of long practise but internally he swore as blood welled between his fingers.

“Got yourself a bit of a nick here, haven’t you?” He said as he put pressure down. The man groaned, the sound wet and horrible as he did so. Shit, punctured lung. Possibly worse.

“Buck, I need you here!” He called over his shoulder, hearing footsteps.

“What are we looking at?” Buck’s voice was steady. Good. He needed her steady.

“Ballistic weapon, close range, upper left chest.” He pressed harder and the man’s breath rattled wetly. His head lolled to the side, a thin stream of blood tracing from the corner of his lips.

“Punctured lung at minimum. Possibly nicked the artery. He’s drowning in his own blood and I have nothing. No tricorder, no—” He looked up at her. “This reality uses bullets, Buck. Actual fucking bullets.”

The girl in the blue dress stood over the leader, gun still trained on him. “Is he going to die?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Buck said, dropping to her knees next to Alec. “What can I do?”

“Hands here,” he ordered, putting her hands in place to keep pressure on the wound. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and waistcoat, yanking his shirt off.

“Oh my word,” the girl in blue said somewhere behind them. “Does it— Do you need—“

“Cleanest thing I’m wearing,” he bit out, then moderated his tone. “Less chance of infection.”

Leaning forward, he slid the wadded shirt under Buck’s hands. She immediately pressed back down and he smiled encouragingly at her.

“Worry about a little nudity later. Right now we’re going to need alcohol. Those three—” Buck jerked her head toward the groaning rakes. “Check them for hip flasks. Now.”

“No need.” The girl’s lips quirked and she produced a silver flask from the folds of her gown. “Will brandy do? The best Winstanley reserve.”

Buck nodded to him and Alec reached out for it, frowning at her.

“Open it, give me a drink,” she ordered.

“You want a drink? Now?” His voice was curt, but he could be forgiven, since they had a guy bleeding out on the damn floor. And now Buck wanted a drink? Which wasn’t like her. He’d noticed she didn’t drink much at all.

But he did as she ordered, opening the flask and holding it to her full lips. She took less than a nip and nodded. “Give it to him.”

He stared at her like she’d grown another head. “He’s bleeding out and you want me to give him brandy?”

“He’s llanarian,” she said, like it explained everything. 

Alec blinked. “Yeah, I got that, but—“

Buck sighed. “He’s llanarian, it won’t get him drunk but it’ll take the edge off until we can get him coffee.”

“That is medically—”

“Insane, yes. Do it anyway.”

Alec shook his head. Screw it. Reaching out, he tilted the flask to the wounded man’s lips and let the brandy trickled in. The man swallowed reflexively, then coughed, choked, and his eyes snapped open.

They were an odd colour. Not amber, but muddy brown-gold. They found Buck and a smile spread across the man’s bloody lips.

“Hey beautiful,” he rasped. “What’s a girl like you doing in a nice place like this?”

“Shut up, Ryx.”

Ryx.

This was Ryx. The man they’d crossed realities to find. The man whose alternate version was currently running amok back in their own universe.

“You know my name.” Ryx coughed again, blood flecking his lips. “Flattered. Didn’t catch yours, though. Seems a bit unfair.”

Alec glanced across at Buck. Her face was calm, but he’d learned to read her over the past six months and her eyes were not calm at all.

“Captain Isabella Buchanan,” she said. “Now stop talking and let my doctor work.”

“Buck.” Alec kept his voice tight and professional as he checked the guy’s vitals. “We have to move him. Now.”

She looked up at the ballroom doors in front of them. He followed her gaze. The sound of music, conversation and laughter filtered through them.

“We can’t take him through there,” she said, her expression tight as she nodded to him to take over on the dressing. Sitting back, she started tearing strips off her petticoat, handing them to him. “We’re going to have to go back through the gardens.”

Ryx’s eyes flickered open and found Buck.

“Hey beautiful,” he rasped. “If I don’t make it—”

She looked down at him, her expression set. “You’ll make it.”

“Sure. But if I don’t.” He reached up with a bloody hand and she took it. Alec looked at their hands, hers dwarfed by Ryx’s and something sharp twisted in his chest. “That night—”

Alec’s gaze shot to her face. Her jaw tightened, the lines around her lips deepening. “Shut up, Ryx.”

“You keep saying that.” He grinned, teeth bloody. “Starting to think you care.”

“Buck, I need to get him into sickbay.” Alec forced his feelings down, more of an edge in his voice as he used the strips to hold the make-shift dressing in place. “Here or the Reverent, I don’t care, but I need to operate now. Sooner if possible.”

“Then we’ll move fast.,” She turned. “Sav, what can you lift?”

“Enough. Certainly more than him,” the commander replied, slamming Perenton against the wall. His head cracked against the stone and he dropped, groaning.

Crossed to them Savage bent and lifted the wounded llanarian as if he weighed nothing. His head lolled against her shoulder. Her face was stone but she cradled the big man gently.

“Try not to jostle him too much,” Alec said, keeping pressure down on the dressing. She flicked him a glance, her tri-coloured eyes like ice, but then she nodded.

“Tavi, with us,” Buck ordered. “We can’t leave you here with him. Okay, let’s move.”