First Shot

Pain.

It’s the first thing he feels when he wakes up. A deep, throbbing pain in his chest and his side, and a much duller pain in his head. Rosco gasps and opens his eyes to a blurry white ceiling. Out of the corner of his eye, something shifts.

“Hey, you’re awake. Good.”

Rosco turns his head to see his boss watching him. He’s sitting in a chair, elbows on his knees and chin propped on his hands. Rosco’s gaze shifts down a little. White bed, thin sheets. He turns his head to the other side. There’s an IV sticking out of his arm, hooked to the bag on the stand that’s right by the head of his bed.

“What…” Rosco tries to push himself up into a sitting position, but his arms are too weak and give way almost immediately. “What happened?”

Beside him, Eddie laughs. It’s a rough sound, not unlike sandpaper rubbing together. “You got fucking shot, kid. That’s what happened.” Rosco turns to look at him again. There’s a small smile playing about Eddie’s lips as he studies him. “You remember what we were doing?”

Rosco closes his eyes. The pain is far from pleasant, but it’s also helping clear the fog from his brain. “We were… Talking to that guy - McCormack? - because he wasn’t paying up. You threatened him and he…”

“And he shot you,” Eddie finished. “Thought he could turn the tables around on me by takin’ out one of my men. Fuckin’ idiot got a bullet in his skull the second you hit the floor. And now all his money is ours. Funny how that works, huh?”

Right. He vaguely remembers getting shot. He must’ve blacked out after the second bullet pierced his skin. Rosco opens his eyes and tries once more to push himself into a sitting position. His arms are steady this time, and he manages. His body aches harder as he does and a groan escapes his lips.

Eddie grabs something off the bedside table and hands it to him. It’s a glass of water slightly cooler than room temperature. Rosco gives him a nod of thanks and raises it to his mouth. It’s only as the refreshing liquid makes its way down his throat that he realizes how goddamn thirsty he is. He keeps drinking until it's empty, then sets the glass down and lets out a long sigh. “Christ. How bad is it?”

“Tch. Not bad at all. Didn’t hit anything vital. Every one of my guys has had way worse.” Eddie leans back in his chair and crosses an ankle over his knee. “Bet that was your first time gettin’ shot though, right?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Better get used to it, then, ‘cause it sure as hell ain’t gonna be your last if you stick it out with me.” Eddie grins and drags a thumb across his throat, following the ragged scar there. “Still better than getting your fucking throat sliced, I can tell you that much. You remember that day?”

Suddenly, Rosco wishes he had more water in that glass. He nods with a hard swallow. Remember it? Hell, he still gets nightmares from witnessing that. The blood spraying down Eddie’s front, the way he didn’t hesitate to grab the man who’d cut him and cut his throat deep before letting the lifeless body crumple to the floor...

He suppresses a shudder.

“Well, at least I can say this: welcome to the club.” Eddie laughs again, and it doesn’t do much to make Rosco feel better. “Glad you ain’t dead, Ros.”

Rosco attempts a smile, but it’s weak. “Yeah, well, me too. And my family will be too, once they - oh fuck.”

Eddie leans forward and clasps Rosco’s shoulder. “Yeah, that’ll be the hard part. Don’t worry, I can have one of my guys phone ‘em if you don’t want to explain shit right now. Unless you wanna wait ‘til you’re out of the hospital bed and go see them yourself.”

Neither option sounds appealing. Rosco stares down at his lap, where he’s clasped his hands together. “It… Probably would sound better coming from me. You know, so they, um, actually believe that I’m still alive.”

“Hah. Good man. How’s the pain? I can ask the doc if she’ll allow you some morphine. That’s the real good shit.”

Rosco laughs, but the look on Eddie’s face tells him he’s serious. “Oh. I -”

Eddie squeezes his shoulder and gets up from his chair in one smooth motion. “You got it, kid. I’ll head on out after. Got shit to do. Focus on getting better, got it? We’ll figure out what to do with you once you’re back.”

Eddie’s almost out of the room by the time he he’s found his voice again. “Thanks.” Eddie glances back at him and nods before he steps through the door and out of sight. Rosco sighs and leans his head back until it touches the wall behind him. “Christ. Mom’s going to be pissed.”