Nobody expected Russell and Brock to let the paramedics take them to the hospital over 'only a few punches'. But when Brock tried to get in the SUV behind the wheel, he found Gillian's scowl in his way.
"What."
She breathed deep not to slap him. What!? He had a map to the Everest in his belly and a rainbow on one side of his face! He could hardly stand on his feet! Instead of yelling in his face, she clenched her teeth and stretched her hand, palm up. Brock scowled deeper. She raised her eyebrows, not a hint of a smile. He gave her the keys with an exasperated sigh and circled the vehicle. Gillian turned to the team.
"Al, you take Russ to the hotel, 'cause if I have to deal with them both, they're gonna end up in the bottom of the bay. Lads, you got lucky. Go to the station and pack our stuff."
Ron, Hank and Fred tilted their heads, watching her and Aldana get in the SUVs with the beaten seniors.
"Guys, the feds are taking the chicks," said Fred.
"The proper feds," corrected Hank.
"Right. Not fair."
"Did you see Reg's face?" said Ron. "I'm all for packing."
On their way to the hotel, Gillian called Aldana and they agreed to have a doctor take a better look at Russell and Brock. He straightened up on his seat—or at least tried—when he heard her, shooting a glaring scowl that Gillian ignored. He also tried to argue. She raised her hand between them to silence him, keeping her eyes on the road without a word.
Brock huffed, annoyed, and turned to look ahead. All he needed was a shower, a pain killer and a good night sleep. Calling a doctor to the hotel! As if it had been his first rodeo!
Back to the hotel, Gillian let Aldana watch over Russell, sure that she would take good and close care of her friend, and escorted Brock to his room.
He paused before his door and turned to her, arching his eyebrows. Was she intending to come in with him too?
"The doctor will be here in thirty," she said, her face adding the 'so you better stay here'. "D'you need anything?"
"I said I'm fine," he grunted, and walked in.
Gillian waited for him to close the door and only then she smiled. Brock was outraged at her looking after him. Well, suck it up, stupid caring man. This time I ain't having nightmares for a week because I'm worried about you. Then she went to check on Russell, only to confirm her presence wasn't the least bit necessary, but rather the other way around.
She came back from the drugstore right on time to meet the doctor at the lobby, and took the man to Russell's room first, since her friend had taken the worst part of the beating. The doctor made good use of what Gillian had bought to patch Russell up, and advised that if Russell didn't want to go to the hospital there in Portland, he should see his doctor for a complete check-up as soon as he got home.
Brock opened his door like he'd been waiting for their knock. He let the man in. His glance at Gillian stated she wasn't invited. She didn't expect to, so she handed the drugstore bag to the doctor and stepped back. But she noticed how pale Brock looked.
Aldana came out from Russell's room, planning to fetch some dinner for them, and found Gillian at the hall, back against the wall by the door to their room.
"What're you doing here, Reg?" she asked, approaching her.
"Waiting for the doctor," Gillian replied in a low, dull voice.
Aldana frowned. "He's still with Brockner?"
Gillian only nodded. Aldana checked her watch—the man had been about twenty minutes with Russell, and he'd been already twice as long with Brock.
"I'm gonna get some dinner. Want me to bring you anything?" she asked.
"No need, the lads are on their way with supplies. How's Russ?"
"Sore, annoying, hungry."
"Oh, if he's hungry, it means he's fine."
Aldana scoffed. Gillian forced a tight smile. Then the door to Brock's room clicked open and she stepped up. Aldana saw her worried frown and retreated quietly to Russell's room. The doctor was careful not to close the door completely before facing Gillian.
"He's fine, you may say," he said, anticipating her questions. "But he has a smashed rib that's causing him some trouble to breathe. I bandaged him tight and showed him the best position to rest, to make it easier for him to breathe. He's in bed now. But he shouldn't spend the night alone, because he needs to avoid any movement for at least the next six or eight hours. He tells me you're all leaving tomorrow morning. He should go to the hospital before that, to check on that rib and have it bandaged for the trip." The doctor pointed at the door. "I'm leaving it like that so he doesn't need to get up. Oh, and make his dinner light, like a salad, for his jaw." He gave her a prescription. "Here, make sure he takes these as detailed."
She waited for the man to get on the elevator, then called Ron to tell him to add a Caesar salad for Brock to whatever they brought for dinner. She faced his door and sighed. She could only hope he wouldn't shoot her.