Chapter 6 Jean Broody vs. Bradley Jackson ~ When suppressed desires explode... Out of the woods!

***

Jean sat quietly and watched his sleeping patient. He looked so young, peaceful, and innocent. Definitely nothing like the beast he'd seen in action that afternoon. Jean wondered how old he was. Probably not a day over twenty, he was sure. Despite the guy's stature, complete with abs that looked so tight one could probably bounce a quarter off them, he had the face of a kid. A sweet kid if he wasn't scowling. And that tattoo... The word 'survival' had been nicely tattooed on his patient's right pec. Jean wasn't surprised at the choice.

The work that Ty and his team did was apparently very risky. From the little he'd heard about what they did, their job was virtually a 'kill or be killed' kind of job. His patient obviously had that tattoo to remind himself to survive at all times, Jean smiled. At least he'd survived his most recent gunshot just as he'd survived the one in his thigh Jean thought with a chuckle. He'd noticed the scare on the soldier's thigh when he stripped him to operate on him. Survival summed it all up perfectly.

Jean stood to check his patient's vitals and then went back to his seat. The guy was a strong man so Jean was optimistic that he was going to heal just fine. He hoped the stubborn man would take it easy for at least a month though. The surgery to take out the bullet and patch Bradley up had lasted for about an hour and a half because of the delicate place the bullet was and the fact that Jean had no help. The bullet had lodged itself right beside Bradley's pubic area. About forty-five minutes after the surgery, Bradley had woken up and groggily commented on how blue Jean's eyes were.

"Do you like them?" Jean had laughingly asked Bradley, knowing that he was unlikely to remember anything.

Bradley had stared up at him for a while and then said faintly. "It's stunning." Then he'd closed his eyes and added in a whisper; "Almost as if I'm flying in an endless sky..." He'd trailed off and gone back to sleep, leaving Jean chuckling with amusement.

And he'd been sleeping for the past five hours. Jean had taken a shower, eaten, and spoken to Ty and Dean. He'd however not said anything about his patient to his brother, knowing that his house would have been filled with his siblings by then, had he said anything to Dean. The Broody family was a close-knit one. They were involved in each other's lives, were aware of small and large events in each other's lives, and were very supportive of each other in times of trouble. Like any siblings, Jean and his brothers fought and disagreed about everything but they loved and cared about each other a lot.

His brothers would have come to help him take care of Bradley if he'd said anything to any of them. But Jean wanted to keep them out of his current situation as much as he possibly could. He definitely didn't want to risk their lives too. Jean's thoughts were interrupted by a groan from Bradley. He stood and quickly moved to his side. It was about time, he thought.

***

Bradley blinked at the bright light and wondered which idiot had left the light on. It took him a while to realize he was in a hospital. What the fuck had happened to him he wondered, feeling a little disoriented. When he attempted to sit up, he felt pain in his groin and groaned. And that was when he noticed...

"Dean?" Bradley frowned.

"Jean. How're you feeling?" Jean asked as he quickly checked Bradley's vitals.

"Fuck, I got shot." Bradley groaned, remembering what had happened. "Thanks to you." He snatched his hand from Jean's and attempted to move off the bed but Jean held him down.

"Don't make me cuff you to this bed, Jack," Jean growled.

"Jackson." Bradley automatically corrected. "And cuffs? Are you a cop now?"

"I don't need to be a cop to own cuffs." Jean drawled.

"Since when did doctors start using..."

"Sure you really wanna know why I need and use cuffs?" Jean's suggestive tone drew a snort from Bradley. "I took the bullet out and patched you up. If you don't relax, your stitched will open. And I'd have to do it all over again. Is that what you want?"

"I have work to do." Bradley groaned.

"You've done enough." Jean retorted. "Why don't you allow your team to handle the rest? Isn't that what the army is all about? Teamwork?"

"Wait till you meet the degenerates in there." Bradley rasped. "I have to..."

"Don't you trust Ty too?" Jean raised an eyebrow.

"What? Of course, I trust Ty. I'd trust him with my life."

"Then allow him to continue what you've started. Because right now, you need to heal."

"How long is that going to take?"

Jean shrugged. "A month...two...does it matter how long it takes? You just need to heal before you go back to what you do."

"How bad is it?" Bradley asked quietly.

Jean started down at the man whose eyes were shut at that very moment, obviously bracing himself for bad news.

"It's not bad."

"Jean..." Bradley's tone implied he didn't believe him.

"The main risk from a bullet wound...things like a severed artery or major vein, laceration of muscles, shattering of bone which could cause complications with bone fragments and so on...is absent in your case." Jean took a deep breath as all that he'd said was done without taking a breath at all. "So that's good."

"But..." Bradley croaked.

Jean turned to look at the wardrobe that held Bradley's weapons. At least the soldier couldn't get to his guns. He took a deep breath and then spoke.

"Well, if you don't give the wound the needed time to heal, an infection may set in. And that has a risk of major long-term problems. It might damage the nerves and cause problems varying from patches of numbness to partial paralysis of the leg...which I'm sure you'd rather not have." Jean stopped talking and stared down at Bradley.

The silence stretched. If Jean didn't know better he would have assumed Bradley was sleeping. But the man looked too tense to be sleeping. Although his eyes were closed, the defeat, vulnerability, and pain on his face couldn't be masked. Jean could imagine the turmoil he was going through. He felt his pain. He suddenly wished he could take away all of Bradley's fears and keep anything negative away from him.

"Have you heard from Ty?" Bradley asked quietly.

"I'm to call him immediately after you wake up," Jean responded simply.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Call him."

Jean adjusted his patient's IV before pulling the burner phone out of his pocket. He dialed Ty's number and gave the phone to Bradley. Then he left the room to give the man some privacy.