“So didja get it done?” He drawled, his feet resting on the table and scattering documents to the floor.
“It’s complicated.” I replied, grimacing and clutching my shoulder.
“You got shot, didn’t cha? Should’ve known you’d fuck it up.”
“I said it’s complicated!” I slammed the table with the fist of my good arm and winced anyway, pain jolting up my spine and throbbing in my shoulder. He laughed and spun in his chair, letting his feet fall to the ground.
“I’m sure where you come from gettin’ shot is all complicated and fancy, but down here it’s nothing a shot o’ whiskey and a pair of pliers won’t fix.” He grinned and winked at me. “Oh and, bandages o’ course. Lots and lots of bandages.”
“Where’s the Patcher?”
He stood up and walked lazily to the door of my office, swinging it open and continuing to smile. “Don’t know. Should be ‘round here though, I’m sure if you look for him he’ll pop up. And maybe if you say please, he’ll patch you up.”
“Fuck off and die Indi.” I snarled, but he shrugged it off and nodded.
“Love you too newbie.” And he was gone, leaving the door wide open behind him. I cursed and slammed it shut, rattling the windows and drawing a few curious glances. I didn’t have to wait long for Patcher, thankfully. He whispered into the room and I didn’t even notice he had entered until the door clicked shut behind him. Damn, he must’ve been a helluva agent back in the day.
“What the hell happened to you Grayson?” He muttered as he ordered me on the table and cut my blood-soaked shirt sleeve off.
“Fucking security. They were showing the new guy around. Caught me by surprise in a ventilation shaft and a lucky bullet clipped my shoulder. Don’t know if it grazed, hit or went right through.” Patches tut-tutted and examined the wound. I did my best to not scream like a little girl, though at times I may have failed, my memory is a bit hazy from all the pain. All I know is that the bullet had lodged itself in my shoulder but it hadn’t caused any serious damage to the joint, which was a relief. It was embarrassing enough to miss the target and break the contract in my first month at the job, but to have everyone know my shoulder was shattered would be beyond embarrassment. It would mean the end of my job, and possibly even my life.
No-one quits from The Umbrella, after all. Not unless you retire.
“There, all done. Shoulder should be good as new within the week.” I sighed in relief and stopped clenching my teeth.
“Thanks Patch.”
“My job, my job. Any other bodily ailments?”
I thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, there is something else. But, um, please don’t tell the others I’m asking you this.”
Patches sighed, then nodded as well. “Fine fine. What’s the problem?”
“Well, when I was running from security, I rolled my ankle pretty bad. Can you take a look at it?”
“Sure sure. Let’s take that shoe off and have a look, shall we? Left or right?”
