The Good Fight || Connor and Alec
Alec hadn’t left medical since they’d brought Connor in. His usual distaste of medical seemed forgotten. The only movement he made waiting on his partner to be out of surgery was the occasional tapping of his fingers against his thigh.
It was all too familiar, a haunting echo of the injury that had put Neha out of commission. It was something Alec still feared; losing his partner, be it to permanent injury or, even worse, death. He couldn’t imagine life without Connor, and the image of his best friend bleeding out in the elevator haunted him more than he cared to admit.
After a longer wait than he ever would have wanted, Alec was allowed to see his partner, probably because the medical staff simply didn’t feel like dealing with him any longer. Alec made his way into the room where Connor sat on a bed, closing the door behind him and pausing for a moment before turning to face the injured man.
“You,” he said quietly, sounding far less than happy, “are a bloody fucking moron, Mallory. You go out and you get shot and you didn’t...” He paused, clenching his fist by his side, half wanting to punch Connor and half wanting to hug him. “You didn’t have to do that. You shouldn’t have. I’m not... You shouldn’t have done that.”