Marin swept into the room with the kind of brisk efficiency reserved for medical emergencies and Fitzgeralt-related chaos. She set down her bag, took one look at Dean's flushed face and trembling hands, and sighed like a woman already drafting a report in her head.
"Vitals first," she said, snapping on gloves. "Then we stabilize him. Trevor, lift his hair. Lucas, cold pack on the back of the neck."
Sebastian stood aside, the rare image of someone attempting not to be in the way.
Dean groaned as the cold touched his skin. "That's freezing."
"That's the point," Marin replied dryly as she checked his pulse. "You're running hot enough to set off the smoke alarms."
Sebastian snorted quietly.
Dean glared at him with bleary irritation. "Stop… being here."
"I live here," Sebastian countered. "Unfortunately for both of us."
Marin shot him a sharp look. "If you irritate my patient, I will eject you personally."
