life moved on. that was the one thing that was certain; no matter what happened to you, life moved on. and when tim learned that, the realization that the world did not revolve around him was quite a simple conclusion to come to. laid up in a hospital bed, half of his skull missing and fragments of his brain blown out, it finally set in that tim was lucky to be alive, that everything in his life he was forced to overcome were merely speedbumps on the path to his true calling, a calling that he’d pursued before he’d gotten shot in the head.
honorably discharged, as soon as tim as back home in the states, he quested after an emergency medical technician certification and earned it in the blink of an eye; his experience in the military, the rangers, got him bonus points with his instructor. not only did tim finally feel as though he was doing what he was destined to do, he was happy, finding the challenge and the care to be great exercises.
tim had been on plenty of marshals crime scenes before, in fact, he was their go to medic in the area, so the call to this one had been no surprise. a pleasure. there was always a sort of intoxicating, infectious adrenaline around these types of scenes. bag slung over his shoulder, tim barreled through the law enforcement officers surrounding the victim, dropping to his knees beside them. “hey there. my name’s tim, ‘nd ‘m here ta help ya. this is a pretty well placed gsw. you’ll certainly survive. what’s your name?” as tim rambled on, he lifted his gaze from the wound on the man’s thigh to his face. a familiar face, far too familiar. “raylan?”
