A/N: Missing scene for "Bad Bet on a 459-Silent." Could double as a fill for the "worst patient" prompt--we see a fair amount of the initial wound care in the episode, but not this part of the story.
"I told you this was a bad idea," Kato snarled as the Black Beauty sped away from the warehouse.
"I don't think the stitches tore," Britt countered, his voice tight with pain. "The hospital shouldn't be any the wiser if you get me back during the next shift change."
"Let me be the judge of that. We're going home first so I can check."
Britt groaned.
"You have to change out of the costume anyway," Kato argued but was glad he was driving so he wouldn't give in to the impulse to shake Britt until his teeth rattled, which wouldn't do Britt's wounded left shoulder any favors.
Unlike Superman, the Green Hornet wasn't bulletproof, as they'd found out in dramatic fashion the night before--by some miracle, the bullet had missed Britt's lung and major blood vessels, but the wound had still been beyond Kato's ability to treat. It had taken some seriously fancy footwork to get Britt to the hospital in a way that wouldn't get him arrested on the spot. And now, not only had Britt ignored the doctors' admittedly overstated reasons for ordering him to stay on complete bed rest, but he'd let himself get drawn into a fight that required climbing ladders, throwing punches, and rappelling down a rope. If the stakes had been any lower than Mike Axford's life, Kato would have flatly refused to help Britt with this mission and would even have dosed him with Hornet Gas to keep him in the hospital. As it was, they had saved Axford, but given how heavily Britt had leaned against Kato on the way out and how pale and sweaty his face was beneath the mask, Kato wasn't sure their victory was worth the cost.
His estimate of how Britt was feeling was confirmed when Britt, already slumped in his seat, merely groaned again and said, "Fine, suit yourself."
Kato didn't comment further, only nudged the accelerator to get them home a bit faster.
"Why don' they ever show this part in the Westerns?" Britt wondered aloud, sounding very Texan and words beginning to slur a little from exhaustion, as Kato helped him into the house and to the study.
"They do on Wanted: Dead or Alive," Kato noted.
"Exception proves the rule."
"Well, you know they can't show too much blood on television." Kato helped Britt out of the Hornet's overcoat, which he'd cleaned but hadn't yet had time to patch; luckily, between the darkness and the black suit underneath, the bullet hole hadn't been visible. "And they only have half an hour or an hour, so there's a limit to what can fit into the story."
"'S not fair," Britt whined as Kato eased the suitcoat off of him. "'S not supposed to hurt this bad."
"I suppose we'll have to come up with some sort of bulletproof vest," said Kato, relieved to see that Britt's shirt didn't have any blood spots showing through it. Britt had been more coherent that morning, which had surprised Kato then and worried him now. Since the current blood loss didn't look too bad, though, it must just be a matter of the cumulative blood loss, pain, exhaustion, and adrenaline crash all catching up with Britt at once now that the case was closed. So Kato tugged Britt's tie off and nudged him to sit down on the loveseat. "We don't want to risk this happening again."
Britt sighed and started unbuttoning his shirt. "The Lone Ranger never wore that kind of vest."
"No offense to the honored memory of your revered great-great-uncle, but that was a hundred years ago."
Britt made a face and pulled his shirt open to let Kato inspect the bandage. It was soaked with sweat, and blood was just starting to seep through to the outermost layer of gauze. Kato grimaced and reached for the first aid kit, which was still sitting on the coffee table.
"It's... it's not that bad, right?" Britt asked, sounding much younger than usual. "I mean, I'm not gonna bleed out?"
Kato sighed and started working off the adhesive tape holding the bandage in place. "No, the Reid luck has held. You won't bleed out. But it would have been very obvious that you hadn't stayed in bed if someone else had changed this bandage." He dropped the sodden bandage in the trash and grabbed the foreceps to remove the bloody packing from the wound. The packing landed in the trash with a splat, but a quick inspection revealed that the stitches Britt had received at the hospital were still in place, pulled in one or two spots but not torn.
Britt gritted his teeth but said, "You know why--"
"I could have handled it alone!" Kato snapped and began cleaning the wound anew. "You didn't need to risk your life!"
Britt shut up until Kato was taping down the fresh gauze. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry, Kato."
"You're very lucky," Kato admitted quietly and stuck down the last strip of tape. "You could have made things much worse."
"I know. But you did need backup. Yes, you handled the two cops just fine on your own, but after our charade in the city room this morning, I don't think Mike would have hesitated to shoot you in the back if I hadn't been there to distract him."
Kato hadn't thought about that possibility. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't bulletproof, either.
"Hey." Britt squeezed Kato's shoulder with his good hand. "We got through it. And I promise I'll stay in bed from now on."
"You'd better," Kato grumbled but squeezed Britt's wrist to accept and return both the apology and the comfort. Then he took a deep breath. "Come on. Let's get you back--shift change is in five minutes."
"Yes, Mom," Britt teased and started buttoning up his shirt.
FILL: Calling the Bluff (Green Hornet '66, gen)
"I told you this was a bad idea," Kato snarled as the Black Beauty sped away from the warehouse.
"I don't think the stitches tore," Britt countered, his voice tight with pain. "The hospital shouldn't be any the wiser if you get me back during the next shift change."
"Let me be the judge of that. We're going home first so I can check."
Britt groaned.
"You have to change out of the costume anyway," Kato argued but was glad he was driving so he wouldn't give in to the impulse to shake Britt until his teeth rattled, which wouldn't do Britt's wounded left shoulder any favors.
Unlike Superman, the Green Hornet wasn't bulletproof, as they'd found out in dramatic fashion the night before--by some miracle, the bullet had missed Britt's lung and major blood vessels, but the wound had still been beyond Kato's ability to treat. It had taken some seriously fancy footwork to get Britt to the hospital in a way that wouldn't get him arrested on the spot. And now, not only had Britt ignored the doctors' admittedly overstated reasons for ordering him to stay on complete bed rest, but he'd let himself get drawn into a fight that required climbing ladders, throwing punches, and rappelling down a rope. If the stakes had been any lower than Mike Axford's life, Kato would have flatly refused to help Britt with this mission and would even have dosed him with Hornet Gas to keep him in the hospital. As it was, they had saved Axford, but given how heavily Britt had leaned against Kato on the way out and how pale and sweaty his face was beneath the mask, Kato wasn't sure their victory was worth the cost.
His estimate of how Britt was feeling was confirmed when Britt, already slumped in his seat, merely groaned again and said, "Fine, suit yourself."
Kato didn't comment further, only nudged the accelerator to get them home a bit faster.
"Why don' they ever show this part in the Westerns?" Britt wondered aloud, sounding very Texan and words beginning to slur a little from exhaustion, as Kato helped him into the house and to the study.
"They do on Wanted: Dead or Alive," Kato noted.
"Exception proves the rule."
"Well, you know they can't show too much blood on television." Kato helped Britt out of the Hornet's overcoat, which he'd cleaned but hadn't yet had time to patch; luckily, between the darkness and the black suit underneath, the bullet hole hadn't been visible. "And they only have half an hour or an hour, so there's a limit to what can fit into the story."
"'S not fair," Britt whined as Kato eased the suitcoat off of him. "'S not supposed to hurt this bad."
"I suppose we'll have to come up with some sort of bulletproof vest," said Kato, relieved to see that Britt's shirt didn't have any blood spots showing through it. Britt had been more coherent that morning, which had surprised Kato then and worried him now. Since the current blood loss didn't look too bad, though, it must just be a matter of the cumulative blood loss, pain, exhaustion, and adrenaline crash all catching up with Britt at once now that the case was closed. So Kato tugged Britt's tie off and nudged him to sit down on the loveseat. "We don't want to risk this happening again."
Britt sighed and started unbuttoning his shirt. "The Lone Ranger never wore that kind of vest."
"No offense to the honored memory of your revered great-great-uncle, but that was a hundred years ago."
Britt made a face and pulled his shirt open to let Kato inspect the bandage. It was soaked with sweat, and blood was just starting to seep through to the outermost layer of gauze. Kato grimaced and reached for the first aid kit, which was still sitting on the coffee table.
"It's... it's not that bad, right?" Britt asked, sounding much younger than usual. "I mean, I'm not gonna bleed out?"
Kato sighed and started working off the adhesive tape holding the bandage in place. "No, the Reid luck has held. You won't bleed out. But it would have been very obvious that you hadn't stayed in bed if someone else had changed this bandage." He dropped the sodden bandage in the trash and grabbed the foreceps to remove the bloody packing from the wound. The packing landed in the trash with a splat, but a quick inspection revealed that the stitches Britt had received at the hospital were still in place, pulled in one or two spots but not torn.
Britt gritted his teeth but said, "You know why--"
"I could have handled it alone!" Kato snapped and began cleaning the wound anew. "You didn't need to risk your life!"
Britt shut up until Kato was taping down the fresh gauze. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry, Kato."
"You're very lucky," Kato admitted quietly and stuck down the last strip of tape. "You could have made things much worse."
"I know. But you did need backup. Yes, you handled the two cops just fine on your own, but after our charade in the city room this morning, I don't think Mike would have hesitated to shoot you in the back if I hadn't been there to distract him."
Kato hadn't thought about that possibility. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't bulletproof, either.
"Hey." Britt squeezed Kato's shoulder with his good hand. "We got through it. And I promise I'll stay in bed from now on."
"You'd better," Kato grumbled but squeezed Britt's wrist to accept and return both the apology and the comfort. Then he took a deep breath. "Come on. Let's get you back--shift change is in five minutes."
"Yes, Mom," Britt teased and started buttoning up his shirt.