Here's my first jump into the Dredd fandom! I'm familiar with the movie and beginning to get into other versions as well, so slowly working on building an accurate portrayal. Enjoy.

He knows the answer well before the Chief Judge has asked him for the verdict.

This bothers him.

Dredd's never passed a rookie, let alone one as green as her. His face curls into an even deeper frown. Right now she's splayed across the floor, eyes wide in shock. Blood seeps from someplace out of view. His boots crunch on broken glass as he crosses the room, carefully stepping around her and crouching to her level. "Anderson." His voice rumbles low, and it's enough to draw her attention. There's pain in her eyes, pain and a hint of what Dredd thinks could be relief. Relief at what? That they survived? That tomorrow they'd get up and the city would still be the same stinking shithole that it always was? Their ordeal here means nothing in the grand scheme of Mega City One.

He grumbles something under his breath and then reluctantly begins to scoop her from the floor. His side aches where the field dressing is holding him together, but somehow he manages to get them back into the elevator. Through sheer will alone, perhaps. He sets her on her feet and she stands, if you could call it that. Half her weight is leaned against the elevator wall, and the other half is leaned into him. A growl builds low in his throat, but he stops himself as he watches her trembling fingers reach for her med kit. She won't be able to do it herself.

His hand swats hers away gently and retrieves the supplies from her belt. Since when was he patching rookies up when they should learn to do it themselves? When she's in the field on her own after this he won't be there to hold her hand through it. A thought nags him that she saved his life from that corrupt judge and yet… he's saved hers more times than he can count since they set foot in Peach Trees. He continues his work, wordlessly tugging her flak vest and uniform away from the bullet wound. A gasp escapes her lungs as he begins work with the medical foam, gloved fingers working much more delicately than he had really intended. She's close… too close. Close enough that he can smell the shampoo lingering in her hair mixed in with worn leather and acrid smoke. He's avoiding her gaze on purpose, focused on the task at hand lest his mind begin to wander. He gives her a shot of painkillers almost as an afterthought. At least it'll help her stand on her own; he's not sure how much longer he can take her leaning into him.

It's in that moment as the elevator nears the ground floor when he slips up, eyes meeting hers if only for a brief second. Something wells up in his chest before he can snuff it out, and as Anderson takes a half step back from him to regain her balance he recognizes exactly what it is.

Pride.