JORGEN
I'm barely back in the door from the early shift, tugging off my boots and retying my hair, when Connor comes sprinting around the corner.
Jessie leaves him home with me when I have the morning shift so that we don't have to pay for the school to watch him every third week. She leaves him home with me two out of three weeks, night shift and morning shift. Not during day shift, then he's at the school so that my parents can work. My mom had been taking every other day off in tandem with my Dad at the beginning of the summer but it just wasn't sustainable.
"Jorgen!" he blurts, skittering to a halt having almost slammed into my thigh. I blink down at him, half registering what's going on, half flipping into a panic. Normally I don't panic when I see blood.
"Shit, Connor," I don't really even know what to do, where to go with anything for a moment, having to get over my emotional tie to him. That's one of those things about first response, if the person is in relation to you, you absolutely should not be responding to them. It fucks things up.
His hand is cupped under his chin, "I dunno what happened I just pushed my tongue against it and it just-"
Teeth. I panic, wondering how in the hell my kid had knocked out one of his teeth in the ten minute bridge period where he's home alone on these days.
I scoop him up, hands under his arms, cupping his ribs, and set him up on the counter in the kitchen. My hands are already thoroughly clean from leaving the station and because I know him and his medical history well I don't have any worries about bloodborne anything so I skip gloves, cupping his chin in my hand, turning on the overhead light with the other.
"Open for me," I tip his head back gently and he opens his mouth despite the fact that his eyes are watering. "Does it hurt?"
He makes a very small affirmative noise and I force myself to breathe out and not go overprotective on him.
"I'm going to feel around for a moment, did your tooth fall out or is it still attached?"
"Attached," he manages.
"Okay," I hold his jaw very gently in one hand and run the pad of my pinky finger just inside the gums of his mouth, finding the sharp bottom edge of a tooth mostly fallen out within seconds, right in the front on the bottom. "Would it hurt if I pushed on it?"
He nods.
"Noted," I pull back his lip to look at the position in his mouth, where it's bleeding from. "I'm going to put my finger against the base of the tooth, is that okay? I want to see where you're bleeding from."
He nods very slightly again, being a considerable bit more cooperative than most kids in pain.
I settle my pinky finger against the gum-line of the tooth, giving it a half ounce of pressure, knowing from what I felt that it's almost completely detached. He winces. I pull back but it's a little late, the tiny motion of him squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing pressed my finger just a tiny bit harder, sliding the remaining tooth out of his gum.
Carefully, I pinch it between my thumb and pinky, pulling it out of his mouth, "Connor, if you ever meet my team, don't tell them I said this, but you're much tougher than most of those guys when it comes to losing teeth. Hold out your hand."
He's still got his eyes closed so his little hand bumps into my stomach trying to find my hand, opening in the space between us. I set the tooth in his palm, closing his fingers around it.
"Did, wait-" his eyes fly open and despite my gentle hold on his jaw, he stares down at it. "I didn't even feel it."
"Like I said," I smile. "Much tougher than my team."
He's still staring down at it, blood on his lips and chin still, mostly forgotten.
"Open your mouth again?"
His big doe eyes flick back up to me, opening his mouth without a second thought. Not to my surprise, it's bleeding a little worse now, a noticeable little fissure in the tissue from where the tooth was just seated. It's probably good I'm still wearing some of my gear from work.
I pop open a side pocket and grab a pack of gauze, using a very practiced skill and ripping it open with one hand, finding the gauze inside.
"You have a lot of pockets," he says over an open mouth.
"I do. These are tactical pants specially designed for first response," I rip the gauze, getting a piece the right size to put over the open gum in his mouth. "Do you think you can hold this here?"
He nods, taking it from my hand like a champ, "how much stuff do you have in there?"
"Ah," I look down on my way to get a glass of water and a paper towel. "My ID information, this pocket has gauze, wraps, trauma shears-"
"Trauma shears? For sheep?"
I crack a smile, filling the glass, "no, Conn, though that would be fun I don't think there's many sheep in Chicago. They're for if I have to cut clothes or rope or anything away from someone to avoid moving them."
"You cut people's clothes off?"
I bite my tongue, trying not to laugh at the look on his face, "yes, I have cut people's clothes off. I've also cut quite a bit of hockey gear off."
"Wouldn't that be embarrassing for them? Because you're a stranger."
I breathe out, really really trying very hard not to laugh. "Normally, usually, they don't mind. I don't cut clothes unless I have to. They'd rather have their clothes cut off than risk any more injury."
Connor nods, still holding the gauze.
"Alright, can I have you swish some water around to clean out the area?" I offer him the glass and he takes it, setting the tooth on the counter before grabbing the glass. I scoop it up and set it on a paper towel.
After he's done, he looks back up at me, "when Inaya was over last I overheard her say that sometimes people like it when clothes are cut off."
I choke on my tongue.
"I don't really know why. Clothes are important. It's annoying when you can't wear them."
I cough out a half-laugh, now knowing exactly what I'll be asking Jessie when she gets home, "and what... why did you overhear this?"
He shrugs, "they were talking about her husband. I like him, he's cool."
"Okay, um," I run my hand over the top of my head. "Rule of thumb, don't listen in on people's conversations, secondary comment, that's hilarious for reasons you'll understand when you're a lot older."
He frowns, "why not now?"
"Nope," I deny. "Can I wipe the blood off your face?"
"You're changing subjects," he accuses.
"I am."
"Why?"
"Because," I wet the second paper towel and tip his chin up, wiping blood off of his face.
"Because isn't an explanation," he quotes what Jessie says to him quite a bit.
"Mmhmm," I get a little bit smeared up on his cheek. "You're too little. When you get older you get new tidbits of information about the way life works that you can only handle at those stages. This is something I'll tell you about when you're seventeen, maybe older."
"That's so far away."
"Mhmm."
"What do I get to learn when I turn eight?"
"Multiplication."
"I already know multiplication."
That catches me off guard, "you do?"
"Yeah. I'm in the special math class with the annoying girl I told you about."
"I was good at math too," I ruffle his messy curly hair, considering asking Jessie if she'll let me give him a trim the next time I need to redo my little undercut thing I have going on.
"You were?"
"Mhmm," I step back, tossing the paper towel into the trash. "Not insanely so, just enough that I did calculus early."
He squints at me for a second and then stops almost as fast as he started, "so what are we doing today?"
"I was thinking maybe you and I will run a few quick errands and then go for lunch, does that sound okay?"
"Can we meet Mom for lunch?"
"I can ask."
We absolutely can meet Mom for lunch. She's waiting outside the little diner she and Inaya frequent when I waltz up, Connor perched in his usual spot seven feet off the ground on my shoulders.
"Morning you two," she lifts her hand way up at Connor and gives him a high five, only getting a little help from me bending over.
"Mom, look," Connor leans forward, pulling down his lip. "I lost a tooth!"
"When did that happen?"
"This morning!" He grabs hold of my head for support. "I was playing Legos and I pushed my tongue hard against it and nobody was there and then Jorgen came home and he gave me special EMT gauze and pulled it out!"
Jessie's eyes go big and fix on me, "Jorgen?"
"I didn't pull it out," I smile. "It was mostly out already and I was looking to see where it was bleeding from and-"
"And it fell out," Connor grins. "But he did it."
Jessie's eyes flicker down to my face, giving me quite an indecipherable look to which I can only give her back a sheepish half-smile, trying to avoid getting accused of pulling teeth.
"Alright you two," she shakes her head. "Can't leave you alone with each other."
Jessie goes to the bathroom right after we get inside and I'm suddenly met with two very very determined eyes from across the table.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" I put my elbows on the wood and set my chin in my hand.
"Why do you look at Mom like that?"
"Like what?"
"I dunno."
"I like looking at your Mom," I reach over and ruffle his hair. "She's very pretty."
He squints at me like he's going to say something but Jessie stops at our table again, making him slide over.
Then, of course, the kid has to shoot me in the foot, "Mom, Jorgen thinks you're pretty."
***
fluff filler before thursdays because yikers
anyway
-rabid
i keep almost signing off emails like that to like... legit college professors
like, "hi, hope you're having a good day, I'm going to be late to class on tuesday because my lab is going to run late. I'm warning you just in case it's distracting. thanks! -rabid" and then i have to backspace like, no, i cant sign off like that, jfc