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Néon hits the ground hard.
They lay limp on the ground and Gustave moves forward. He knows if he doesn't get there in time, their blood will stain his hands with a new layer. Another life gone and, at that, one he cherished so heavily in his personal time.
He moves and ignores the shouting around him to not do it. He draws his stim out with awareness of how long it will take for the enemy to reload. Just a few more seconds to stab Néon with it before dragging them in a way he wishes he didn't have to. Anything to cover them as the bullet wound in their thigh bleeds at an alarming pace. If he wasn't a medic as long as he had been, he would have thought it was a worse wound. Still, it could be worse. It could be so much worse as he realizes belatedly the backup has arrived. The first bullet hits Doc's armor in his back and he knows time has run up. In his ear comm, he can hear someone asking for a helicopter ride from Mina with other frantic questions on if Doc was hit now.
It's Twitch in front of him that has him realize just how much pain he's actually in. A wet gasp, tears welling in his eyes. It was more than the amount he counted. Far more, and it has Néon's own eyes fluttering into consciousness with how rough Doc begins to hold Sens. They groan in pain and Gustave absurdly hopes they are aware that he's not mocking them as he does the exact same. They stare over his shoulder to Twitch and whatever face Emanuelle has on that he can't see yet has them worry out loud too. The words are muffled for Gustave though. It's as if everything is tilting off his world's axis. He hasn't been injured in a long ass time, sue him. He's allowed the dramatics of laying down next to Sens as they intertwine their hand with his. He wants to pay attention to what his team is telling him, but he can't. He can't direct them into what to do. No way to ask if Mina is on her way or if Gilles was hit or if Olivier has their enemies down. It was a trap for them, but at least it seems to be settling. Or maybe it's the fact Emmanuelle is covering the sky now to make sure Gustave can't panic in asking for status updates.
"Doc, you have to stay up, stop closing your eyes."
He manages a thumbs up, but still, his eyes flutter shut again until a newfound pain hits him. Gilles is now by Néon with his shield put away. A sign there's not a fight right now. He relaxes heavily as his fingers disentangle from Néon's which he distantly hears protest about no and maybe a very pained Boss, stay up.
Emmanuelle's got her hands pressed tight, shoving the gauze as tight as she can. Her face is pained and Gustave begins to wonder how they'll all handle each other without him there to heal them. He can hear someone shouting nearby in hurried French. It's as loud as can be. It gets even louder as his eyes begin to close.
—
Three weeks bench for Sens then light duty. The same three weeks and possible pending days bench for Doc. They know he'll be back in his office anyways far too early— they're likely picking straws on who has to nurse him and corral him at home. Néon does not return the thumbs up from Gustave at the news and instead points accusingly enough for him to turn away from them.
"You shouldn't have gone for me."
"There's no way you think that'll work on me, Néon."
Grumbling noises from the bed to the left. He knows they would get up to lecture him if they could. Bullet wound bandaging covers them both uncomfortably and Gustave knows that, in the end, it was Lion that made sure they would both live.
He wonders if Néon has told Olivier thank you while he was asleep.
Emmanuelle told him Lion's been at his bedside most days; even more than her or Gilles. It's uncomfortable and strange. It makes him wish Néon was enough a gossip to say if Olivier told his sleeping form anything.
—
Fending off the entire Kateb family took three days that sapped away most of his energy. Emmanuelle and Gilles had stopped by once on day three; leaving just as frazzled as Gustave still feels. They had both promised his mother and uncle and three cousins and niece— no wonder he feels like this, fuck —that they would have someone coming to help their beloved doctor.
He kind of hates that one of his team members is taking time off to come help him. Emmanuelle had reassured him several times over that she wasn't taking the time off. Gilles simply shook his head no. Couldn't be Néon since they were off with their less overbearing concerned family right now to heal. Gossip from Gilles this time around said Julian may be there as well to visit. It makes Gustave snort as he rebandages himself in the quiet of his room. Whoever's supposed to be here is taking their time. He knows if he left right now, though, Emmanuelle would follow through on siccing her girlfriend on him. Bed rest with Taina sounded like some sort of extreme punishment so he made sure not to even think about working in his office to at least reorganize files or something.
The knock at the door an hour after he shooed his family out feels ominous. He peers through the peep hole carefully and wonders, maybe, what he did in a past life for this. No belief in reincarnation and yet his luck makes him start to wonder if something might be up. He glances up to ceiling then back to the door. Allah, give him strength to handle this.
Olivier goes from a cold face to a warm smile near instantaneously as the door swings inwards. There's a bag at his feet and that's definitely a medical bracelet on him. Fifty alarms are going off in Gustave's head as he immediately points at it.
"I was grazed. I'm using my holiday leave for once before you force me to," Olivier's explanation is followed by him pushing in gently through the door with his bag now, "Twitch approved it and so did all the other teams. Caveira even smiled about it."
Olivier's amusement makes Gustave huff a bit. Of course Taina thought it wad funny. They butt heads at every training exercise but work like a well-oiled machine on the field. She respects him and him the same of her, but man is Emmanuelle the only reason they can get along most days. Of course she knew how he'd take Lion leashing him from working and staying spare room for the remainder of him being benched.
It's not that him and Olivier hate one another anymore. They get along now. Mutual respect that's grown into joking on the comms from Olivier as Gustave stays dead serious. Compliments for their work and general understanding that they work best in Wolfguard for a reason. It's just... Gustave isn't sure what's been going on. He doesn't know how to handle the friendship with Olivier with the odd feelings growing inside of him. He also can't quite put it into words how much he likes the fact that Lion is defiant in the face of his leadership even with the respect for him. A few sentences from Lion and he can rethink a plan to be better or at least have it so Doc is less on the frontline about to be injured.
He knows better now without the haze of pain that it was Lion yelling in their native tongue as his eyes shut. More familiar with why they say the man roars now.
Olivier stands patiently in the living room as Gustave arms the millions of paranoia added locks once more. Harry had been killed and most operators turned to things like this. He knows Olivier had done this long before any of them for the sake of the slim chance of his son visiting.
He beckons Olivier to follow now, slow in a way that Gustave hates. "Room's this way. I have a dish from my family left over, you can have the rest. We fend for ourselves after that one's finished though."
There's no response as he stands in the room now. He glances back to the doorway and Olivier immediately looks away, a slight red at the tips of his ears now. He squints at the staring and he would argue about it any other day, but he's exhausted. The wound and his overbearing family to Emmanuelle not warning him about this one bit has all caught up to him.
He would pester Olivier if he could. He likes watching the red dust his cheeks and ears. The huffs of frustration and chewing on his cheek in nervous habit mid-meeting. He likes Olivier a bit more than he lets on.
This is going to be torture.
—
The first four days together goes as normal as possible. Eat together, shop separately, skirt out the room if Olivier is on the phone, and very aggressively text Emmanuelle whenever Olivier scruffs him away from paperwork he's hidden around the home.
It is definitely torture.
One of the first things Gustave takes notes of is that Olivier's a good cook. Good enough to have praises sung for him. Perhaps he should have taken up those offers of dinner together with the other members of Wolfguard likely tagging along. Team bonding or something of the like.
Olivier's face goes red at the compliments to his food most days. Gustave's herded out his own kitchen whenever he attempts to repay the effort made. He's on so much "rest" that his dishwasher is seeing probably the most use it's had in a year. His family's always handwashing but Olivier seems to think that if he leaves Doc alone too long by just washing dishes, he'll manifest some new form to file for medical.
The sad thing is he can't fault the other man when Gustave really did start to sort his files that he brought home right before the mission. It reminds him of Harry in his office, right around when Rainbow started and Six was still there; a conversation on the fact Doc has little to no life outside of work because all his hobbies were volunteering or reading medical papers. Sure, he gets his time off, but he runs off to spend it elsewhere. MSF loves him, the GIGN more, and every volunteer space in the span of Paris knows him by first name and face. He quite literally cannot stay still and the shoulder throbbing right now means little to it. It's how on day five Olivier catches him reorganizing his whole damn kitchen at 7:23 in the morning.
"Gustave. What are you doing."
He freezes on the little stool and glances over his injured shoulder on high alert. Lion looks tired and guilt runs through him that he might have woken him up with the sound of the twelve different mugs being moved. It's probably a miracle they haven't bickered until today. They almost lasted a week. A small mercy for all pigs unprepared for flight as Olivier steps into the kitchen now slightly more awake.
An accusing point and before Olivier can start; Gustave starts it. "It's not my injured shoulder I'm stretching. Should be fine, non?"
The ticking bickering bomb, as everyone likely expected it to happen, finally goes off.
—
Seven days in is mundane nonstop bickering after the mess of the kitchen on day five. Lion's hands on his hips when he caught him in the kitchen burn still when they had chased each other around the island over a joke mug.
Gustave's never had someone call him as gorgeous or intelligent as much as Olivier has these past few days.
It's as if he's making up for the years of genuine hate. Refusal to understand one another and their differences. A jagged sword embedded in both of them that ends in false flirting from Lion as Doc complains of the trash not being taken out instead.
Though, he wishes sometimes in the quiet of his room that it was real. That Lion meant all those sweet little words. Compliments were thrown often for him, but never in the way Olivier indulges him. He knows that it's just the olive branch being extended further. A way to try and respect his boss, maybe. He knows it isn't like that, but he has to pretend.
—
Emmanuelle's tinny little voice on the other end of the phone makes his heart ache. Gustave misses her in a way that really only the original operators understand. He's know her longer than that, but they've become intertwined in fates far more due to Rainbow.
He put her in charge of the team for now. Gilles may be older, but everyone knows he'd rather die on the field than lead a team fully for a whole mission. It's why they're out there and him, Sens, and Lion are not. He's pressed himself hard to the ground today at every prayer. His team has to be safe because without him there, is it not fully his fault? They do not have their Doc and the well-oiled machine of command. Twitch is doing her best and he genuinely would make her be in charge any day, and yet; he still finds himself anxious.
Olivier's been hushing his out-loud anxious wondering. Can't quite do that now since Twitch could only call late at night right now where they are.
They talk in circles around Lion anytime she ask if he's being nice and if he's done anything in particular. Whatever coded hint she's dropping, he has no time to decipher. His damn back hurts. He tells her so.
"Your back will hurt regardless. I've heard it pop with you just sitting up straight."
"I thought we agreed that never happened."
"Okay, well, I had to at least tell Taina about it. She laughs about it!"
"Are you... Are you gossiping with your girlfriend about me?"
The dial tone that greets him has him flabbergasted for only one minute more. He's calling her about three times in a row after and smiling at the sound of her giggling at his misfortune. At least his best friend is having some sort of fun between being the temporary boss.
—
Ten days in, the bickering just to bicker slows down a slight bit. Phone calls from his son lead to Olivier looking rather off. As if he still couldn't wrap his head around his actions when he was younger. Gustave often wondered what it would be like on his end until he realized every time it was impossible. His life was work in a way that was opposite to how Lion's work is life. They both hunt down that same safety and protection from the world. A harsh whisper of realist versus optimist takes over Doc until he looks away from Lion fidgeting awkwardly on the couch after the unsuccessful call. The space between them is strange and unwelcoming unlike the gentle hands that bandage him up in his room every day now. Lion does not look to him as he scoots ever so slightly towards him every few minutes.
Gustave's selfish on rare, rare occasions.
Today, day ten, is one of them.
He leans his weight against Lion's side. The muscles in his arm tense before relaxing. Paying more attention allows him to hear Olivier's sharp inhale for a moment. It's nice to know whatever's been building might be less imagination and more so real.
Maybe later that night too, he's on the phone with Néon just to be sure they're fine. Hearing a firsthand account is always best when it comes to the operators, especially since he's aware Sens isn't the best patient in the world. They fidget too much and want to be on the field fast. He can't judge that though with the fact Olivier's here just to stop him from running to his office. His car keys are even hidden away right now, for his own sake.
"Boss. I will say this once, slowly, for you," and Néon snorts down the line as the sound of ruffling sheets comes in with their voice, "I thought you and Flament were already fucking when you recruited me. Most of us new recruits thought so. I guess I should have gotten into the betting pool saying you weren't together now that I know there's no money for me. Regardless, I think even Six herself would have blessed your union. This reminds me, I'll text you the address to that place we have to try when you're off leave! It was amazing. Very very good, and they played my kind of music there so you can branch out again."
Muffled sounds come from the other line. If he pays more attention, it almost sounds like Julian. He sits up ready to ask, but it seems like they immediately want to get off the phone. Probably realizing they rambled too much now to their poor boss.
"...Now goodnight, I will see you soon!"
There's no way to answer in time before he's hung up on. Gustave still sends them a million text messages attempting to defend himself. Allez, bisou means nothing from Olivier's mouth. Absolutely nothing but pulling pigtails that he doesn't really have.
...Or well, perhaps it means something with all these moments as of late. He thinks about calling Emmanuelle before deciding not to. Taina will murder him if he wakes them up.
—
Day thirteen is unlucky.
The rising tension leaks away as stitches pop from moving too much. The doctors above even him throw their hands in the air. Three weeks and five days added now to it. Slightly more time with Olivier's cooking and the close proximity on the couch. The longing looks Gustave throws his way that sometimes make Olivier look back with some glimmer of hope. Gustave almost wants to selfishly injure himself again on the battlefield if it means time like this. He knows he would never fully imagine it though. Not with all the people they have to help. Especially not with the operators already asking when he'll return since they only trust Doc as their doctor.
Day thirteen leaves want burning in his throat.
—
12:47 AM blinks on the night stand next to him. Gustave is at two weeks with Olivier now. Extra days sprinkled in on a forced vacation. Orders to take it easy that'll be ignored immediately by him and Néon both soon.
A text message from Emmanuelle tells him to be careful. Another from Mina on a proposed helpful trial medicine addition for the helicopter medical packaging. The last one's from Marcus and it's some horrendous meme he can barely understand, but at least it's not Håvard messaging him.
How times have changed that he dreads a message from Ace and hopes for anything from Lion. Day fourteen and the gap between them feels like it reformed with just one set of stitches popping. He can't do this anymore. He can't take the brush of a hand against his as they put away dishes. He doesn't want to lose the soft compliments intermingled with bickering like an old ass married couple. He can't pretend that he hasn't realized it was Lion roaring in despair when Doc's eyes shut tight. He said he was grazed when he showed up on his doorstep and Doc wonders if Lion had briefly been distracted. It's so very selfish that it pisses him off slightly. Everyone says he's a selfless man, but he wants. He wants and wants.
Ten minutes pass laying in bed on the fresh day fourteen and the next message that lights up his phone is a simple one from Néon: Make sure you stay happy during break, boss! Less stress!! Forced leave is still a vacation!
There's a palm tree emoji followed by a kissy face. He thinks of their phone call when Olivier was asleep. People already assume him and Lion are together. They seem to have some sort of bet going on that Emmanuelle refused to elaborate on. She changed the topic about four times when he tried to ask her the other day. Doc is selfish and he wants to know what it all means. He wants the promise of kisses from an annoyance to be real. He wants the arguments on who should take out the trash today to be real. He wants to cuddle on the damn couch. He wants to greet Olivier's son on the phone and help with whatever blooming relationship is awkwardly growing there.
He's standing up and getting out of bed before he can really think. He's impulsive on the field when it comes to medicine. This is anything but medicine. Olivier is calculated and it was what drew the wedge between them ages ago. Harry set them up in this team for the sole hope that the wedge could eventually fall apart. He wonders if Allah has given him some sort of odd newfound patience to be knocking on the guest room door for a while.
Olivier might not have been wide awake, but he seems to wake up a bit more looking down at the bandaging on Gustave. He blinks down and seems to take catalogue of the fact Gustave has no shirt on, red peeking onto the tips of his ears and high on his cheekbones. Just this reaction is enough to make him think stupidly just as he did diving onto the field with his armor shifting so much. Sens could have died and it had his heart pounding beyond belief. His body doesn't seem to understand no one here is in proper danger besides maybe getting punched or something if he read these past fourteen days wrong. Two weeks together but months of maybe something else full of false never fulfilled kisses and teasing over dinner. For fuck's sake, he's pretty sure Olivier tried to annoy him into footsie under the table once when Gustave kicked him hard in the shin instead. Before Olivier can say a word, Gustave is fisting two hands into the collar of his sleep shirt and tugging him down.
Their first kiss is something that could have theoretically happened ages ago. It's mean and rough for the first second because it caught Olivier off guard. He could have been pushed away, but instead, two hands latch onto his hips just like when he was told to stop rearranging the kitchen cabinets. It takes maybe a few minutes too long to turn into something sweeter in their tiredness. At leas the stitches he just had fixed would last through the night. Olivier's got a ridiculous grin climbing onto his face when they separate for air. "Couldn't keep playing hard to get now, huh, Doc?"
Maybe he does regret this already as he pushes Olivier to stumble back towards the guest room bed. The wide-eyed look he gets in return makes him laugh out loud.
"Nothing tonight, Lion. I just need sleep," he's murmuring it and climbing into the bed that's his but not really his. It smells like Olivier now. He's going to miss this later on for the days they spend apart after. He already knows the answers he'll get come morning. Kisses, promises of dinner, and never quite a sorry for their past. They work better as opposites that bicker and bite for fun in bed and out of bed. The hesitance as Olivier lays in bed makes Gustave tug him close now, holding him until the other at least sags in relief a bit. As if Gustave would have let him have the control of this.
—
He pops his stitches on day sixteen. No one but Olivier knows and it's an entire long-winded argument on if they have to quit it. Somehow Gustave is the more insatiable one of the two here.
He's also heard on the wind that Gilles ran away with the most damn money from the betting poll thanks to Emmanuelle's depression and Néon snitching happily if it meant Gustave bought them lunch.