Cricket is pretty sure he can board up the door, at least, but he's not going to be as keen on staying there as he was when he first started. Like Steve, he's consciously set that bridge aside to be crossed later. He makes an uncertain face as Steve precedes him into the house. It feels a little weird to be letting a stranger in here willingly after being attacked in the same place less than an hour ago. Rationally, sure, he knows this is an ally, maybe a friend, but there's a feeling of worlds colliding when he points him toward his bedroom. Maybe it's just the fright. His heartbeat is quick, and he has this strange thought, watching Steve move ahead of him, like maybe Cricket is in two places at once, instead of one. Like the house is here, and empty, and the broad-shouldered blonde is somewhere else, walking ahead of him, and Cricket's just seeing the two scenes layered on top of one another.
He feels a little nauseous.
Shoving that aside, he hastens into the room after Steve. The man is on the floor, not quite where Cricket left him, but only three or four feet away. The kid scans the room, trying to think if there's any kind of weapon he could have grabbed, but aside from books, his beach-snowglobe that Adia and Caspar gave him, and maybe some lint, there's not much. The revolver is undisturbed on his bed.
The burglar is still breathing. He looks human to all appearances, and his eyes are closed, but he might just be playing dead. There's blood pooled on the floor and smeared across his coat, but it's hard to tell if it's still coming.
For a moment, Cricket finds himself wondering if it might've been better if the man did die. Because treatment won't be easy, and dying of sepsis won't be pretty...
Then he snaps out of it, nods to Steve, and hastens toward the communal bathroom. Of course they have a first aid kit, and it's a big one, in a case, well-equipped for this kind of emergency. Harley's in a violent line of work, even if she heals exceptionally well, herself.
He brings the case to Steve, hesitates a second, and then sinks to kneel beside the man, jaw clenched between nerves and pain. Steve said 'we', and Cricket's not great with triage or anything, but he'll pitch in, no question.
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He feels a little nauseous.
Shoving that aside, he hastens into the room after Steve. The man is on the floor, not quite where Cricket left him, but only three or four feet away. The kid scans the room, trying to think if there's any kind of weapon he could have grabbed, but aside from books, his beach-snowglobe that Adia and Caspar gave him, and maybe some lint, there's not much. The revolver is undisturbed on his bed.
The burglar is still breathing. He looks human to all appearances, and his eyes are closed, but he might just be playing dead. There's blood pooled on the floor and smeared across his coat, but it's hard to tell if it's still coming.
For a moment, Cricket finds himself wondering if it might've been better if the man did die. Because treatment won't be easy, and dying of sepsis won't be pretty...
Then he snaps out of it, nods to Steve, and hastens toward the communal bathroom. Of course they have a first aid kit, and it's a big one, in a case, well-equipped for this kind of emergency. Harley's in a violent line of work, even if she heals exceptionally well, herself.
He brings the case to Steve, hesitates a second, and then sinks to kneel beside the man, jaw clenched between nerves and pain. Steve said 'we', and Cricket's not great with triage or anything, but he'll pitch in, no question.