In the room, Theodore started hacking up a storm. The wound on his waist split open, and warm blood started oozing out, soaking the gauze and turning his striped hospital gown a nasty red.

Lawton barged in and saw Theodore slumped against the bed, looking pale as a ghost. He freaked out, "Mr. Reynolds, I'm getting the doc!"

"It's nothing, Lawton. Just handle my discharge papers."@@novelbin@@

Lawton's eyes went wide, "But you're still bleeding! You can't leave now."

"Just go." Theodore's voice was sharp and no-nonsense, leaving no room for argument. Even though he looked like death warmed over, he was still scary as hell.

Lawton clenched his jaw, went to sort out the discharge stuff, and called a doc to change Theodore's dressing. By the time he got back with the papers, Theodore had already thrown on his shirt and trousers and was sitting by the bed, waiting. Lawton rushed over, wanting to help, but Theodore shoved him away, "I don't need your help. I'm not some weakling."

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