Now is not the time.

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21. "Now is Not The Time."

One man with a gun can control 100 without one.
-Vladimir Lenin

11:38 P.M

REGGIE SIMON

"It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay."

It was all Thomas had kept saying ever since him, Reggie, and Phil had been forced to take shelter in a supply closet. An accompanied shriek and gunshot ringing out every once in awhile. Reggie was steadily applying pressure to Phil's gunshot wounds, the latter looking worse for wear by the minute. Looking over towards Thomas, of whom appeared to be rocking back and forth in the corner, Reggie couldn't see very many options to take here. They were stuck, there was no way they could go back out into Milo's without putting their lives in even greater danger; and from what he could hear the shooter didn't sound to merciful.

"Okay," Reggie stated, to no one in particular.

"So Thomas called the ambulance, called the police. The others, the others are; I don't know. I'm afraid, I don't know what to do here. For God's sakes I'm a intern!" Even with Reggie's mess of babble, it still didn't seem to have any effect on the others, outside of a violent cough from Phil. Reggie sighed, looked down at the man soaked in blood, and began to cry.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry that this happened to you. None of this should have happened to you. You were just trying to rise above it, and I know I've given you a hard time, and I know you've been an ass to Andre, but you need to pull through this."

Another violent cough from Phil quickly followed Reggie's remark, and the intern sighed. However, as soon as he started to lift himself away from Phil, the intern was shocked when Phil's hand wrapped across the base of his arm and gripped tightly.

"Make him," Phil groaned, "Make him fix me, he's, he's the only one that can."

It was with those words that a pit formed in Reggie's stomach, Thomas was obviously in no condition to attempt such a feat, especially if he were to fail; and the limited amount of resources didn't exactly make for the most of effective hospital. He stared at Phil for another moment, of whom finally lost consciousness, before looking to Thomas, apologizing, taking a deep breath, and then tearing Phil's shirt open. Blood immediately began to gush from the three wounds, one of which had been a clean shot straight through; the other two were still lodged inside. He looked frantically around the supply closet, still counting the occasional gunshots that could be heard from outside; now enough for the shooter to have killed each one of his friends.

Pliers, his eyes rested on a pair of pliers, as well as a few dry cleaning towels and supplies.

"Not even a half-assed first-aid kit? What kind of damn bar is this?" He groaned, before taking another deep breath.

"Focus, okay, focus."

He grabbed a towel, pried open Phil's mouth and closed it around it; the intern being far too aware that he would need it. Before he went to work with the pliers, he stumbled upon some tape, and decided it would also be a valuable tool in however much time he could buy the older doctor. Setting that aside, he re-positioned the tool over one of Phil's wounds, sobbed for them both, and then began to gently ease it towards the wound.

"I'm not going to lie to you Phil, if you can still hear me. This is going to hurt, and he'll probably find us in here; but at least I can say I tried. I know it's not much but-"

"Reggie," Thomas finally spoke, his voice a whisper.

The intern paused, turning his head slightly, but being sure not to lose the positioning of his hands.

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