~.~

She did her best not to choke on the blood, spitting it to the side with a grimace. Hands were working at her chest, each probing throb of pain sending the taste of copper and salt up across her tongue again. Gritting her teeth didn't help, which pissed her off because it was her habit. But with her nose bloodied and probably broken, drawing any kind of breath that way was a challenge she'd fail.

Bangalore's world was pretty hazy, only the pulses of rolling pain bursting periodically bright behind her eyes. Lifeline was talking, snapping and muttering really, while she worked, her fingers like spiders as she applied pressure and drew a needle through and kept adjusting the tubing from the D.O.C. If not for that piece of tech, Bangalore could hardly argue she'd be as alert as she currently was. Field meds could only do so much, and the higher the quality and dosage of the painkiller, the foggier the brain. Days like this, she was grateful that Lifeline had befriended her so determinedly those three years ago, for she'd relied on her more times than she could count. With a field kit in this state, she'd put money on temporary unconsciousness.

"If she doesn' make it," Liefeline's clipped voice was snarling, "I'll see ta it personally you don' get another listin' wi' Elites."

The sequence of events was a blurred smear in her head as she gasped out another mouthful of blood at the next hard beat of agony.

Something about an ambush. One their mid-tier third should have seen, one that almost put them out. She'd reacted, instinct and years of training making her response times among the best in the Games, but he'd scarpered on her and she'd gone down among the fire of three weapons. The rest was more sensation and sound than anything else, she was fairly sure she'd gotten her flare out in time for it to count, but whether the artillery had fallen or not, Bangalore couldn't rightly remember. With her brain fogged as badly as it was, other battles were bleeding through, and it was difficult to focus on filtering out what was now and what was then.

He was saying something, his voice high and nasal and laced with panic, or self-defence. It whined in Bangalore's ears too badly for her to hear the words. But she got the intent. Some excuse, some argument. After three years of Lifeline's touch patching her up in the worst of the scenarios they'd faced together, she could recognise the way her fingers roughened. She was forcing her focus to curb her anger. But it still spilled out anyway.

"Get yor ass ou' on watch. If we get jumped again now we'll be in real trouble."

"But-"

"For God's sake!" Lifeline yelled, louder than either of them had been before, her accent doubling in the way that exclaimed her very real anger, "Get th' fuck out there!"

He went. Bangalore heard the scrape of something being hauled from the ground. She didn't know how long Lifeline continued to work before the fog started clearing little by little. Breathing became a little easier, the pressure in her ribs releasing slowly. Cracked, probably. The pain cranked up a notch or two, but the ache in her head mellowed enough for her to force open her eyes.

Lifeline's clothing was coated in blood and there was a rusty streak across one cheek like battlefield blush, but when she noticed Bangalore's gaze she dredged up a wry smile.

"Ya had me goin'." she said, uncapping another small syringe and slipping it under the skin so neatly that it barely even pinched, "I swear I'll kill tha' moron before the others do."

Bangalore groaned, because the dark chuckle creeping yup her windpipe would hurt too much to release, but Lifeline knew anyway. So much time together and with a bond like theirs, you learned a person inside out.

"Rookie." she managed to spit out, pushing shakily up onto her elbows even though it hurt.

Lifeline snorted in disgust, eying the direction their third must have gone, her hands a reassuring support for Bangalore to lean on as she struggled cautiously upright.

"How many?" she asked, glancing down at the mess of her abdomen, the black thread neat against the blanching skin.

"Thirty-four." was the answer, clinical almost, despite the concern in her friend's eyes.

Bangalore nodded and set about adjusting her battle suit over the wound. Lifeline laughed then, a real laugh, before she produced more thread from the box and set about sewing closed the tear the Peacekeeper had made near her hip. Bangalore let her, too exhausted and in too much pain to argue that she could patch it herself.

When she was satisfied, Lifeline packed the medkit up in mere seconds, clicking it closed and slotting it back into her pack. She took a deep swig from her canteen before passing it to the soldier, who took a mouthful of cool water to clear the taste from her mouth. It foamed pink and thick on the concrete when she spat it out, but she felt better as every second ticked on.

"Thanks."

Lifeline took it back with a brief, genuine smile, and maybe it was the near-death adrenaline talking, but Bangalore wondered not for the first time if having a sister would feel anything like the comfort the other woman could bring her on the battlefield with barely any words. Her brothers had dragged her up with them through the years, and she was used to the rough and tumble. Hell, she could tangle with the best of them and come out swinging, and she knew it. They'd been fundamental in making her who she was and she appreciated them for it. But there was something about Ajay's gentle strength in a crisis that made Bangalore wonder all the same.

She'd take a bullet for the Medic, had done on more than one occasion, and had the gesture reciprocated just as many. They were all like family, the Elites. A dysfunctional one, who fought and killed each other in the Arena, and not everyone got along as well as others did. Bangalore knew she wasn't a particularly affectionate person, and she wasn't the only one. They found balance, they made it work. She'd gladly take Octane down in the Games for the motormouth he infuriated her with, but he was alright in his own way, she supposed.

But Ajay had pushed her way past the barriers Anita had crafted around herself, refusing to be ignored, doggedly giving her support and wry disposition in moments of near-weakness. As partners on the field they were dangerous together, and it hadn't taken very long for that bond to be secure between them. She'd hardly faced a match without the woman since, the sister beside her in a firefight like her brothers would be if they were there.

But of course, that was the adrenaline talking. It'd soon be time to move out.

~.~