Blinking my eyes open hours later, I found myself alone in the living room, the TV turned off and an old blanket gently tucked around me. It was still dark out, I couldn't have been out for long, rubbing the sleep from my eyes I wondered what had woken me up. Bad dream maybe, I thought snuggling back beneath the warm blanket.

THUD!

"Shit!" the whispered swear could be heard from the kitchen. I jumped fully awake, startled by the noise and the voice. I was sure I was home alone, didn't Rayul say he had gang duty? Unless he'd finished with his dirty work and returned home. Either way it sounded like someone was in the apartment. Scrabbling off the couch, I crept toward the kitchen keeping low and silent. The kitchen lights were still off when I peered around the corner, yet I still melted in relief seeing my brothers familiar silhouette. I stepped in without fear flipping on the light.

He jumped, squinting at me while his eyes adjusted to the sudden bright "Did I wake you?" he asked apologetically. My eyes widened in alarm as I took in his condition. His clothes were filthy and torn, blood stained his shirt in various places, though I could not tell how much of it was his, he was clutching a bloodied rag tied tightly around his left bicep. A shallow cut on his cheek was still oozing beads of blood. He looked like this and his only concern was whether or not he'd interrupted my beauty sleep?

"What happened out there? How did you get so beat up?" I asked urgently, rushing to his aid. I ushered him in to one of the bar stools at the kitchen island then raced around the kitchen gathering everything I would need to clean the various wounds, that included a pot of water to boil to wash his wounds with. What worried me more, was when I had pushed him to sit down he put up no resistance. Giving in to my urging without a fight was troublesome, where else was he injured that I could not see?

"It's not as bad as it looks. Trust me, I've had worse" he said offhandedly, as though the fact he was running his tongue over bloodied teeth was no big deal.

"Why didn't you go to the hospital? You could be seriously wounded!" I snapped, my ears growing warm with anger, why wasn't he taking this seriously? Was he trying not to frighten me?

"Uuh, there's the chance I'll get arrested if I go now. Shit happened, a fire started in the warehouse, the crew and I hightailed it out of there when the cops started swarming- Where are you going?" he called when I abruptly raced out of the kitchen toward our shared bedroom, it took but a few minutes to find the case of tools I had infrequently stolen from Sharon. Now it was time to put them to good use. Racing back to the kitchen I set about sterilizing the tools in hot water then wiping them down an antibacterial soap, then boiling them a second time. Then I laid them out on a clean sheet, I had taken from the closet, along with the first aid kit in the bathroom and if that wasn't enough I would have to drag him to the hospital and just hope our luck didn't allow the police to show up looking for injured gang members.

"I-I can handle this little bro. You don't need to go Doctor Aaron on me" he said warily.

"Clearly you can't, judging from the way you were blindly groping through the kitchen minutes ago looking for something to dress your wound in, not to mention you have been sitting stiffly this entire time as though you are suffering from internal pain or it may be your lower ribs. Also your left hand is balled in to a taunt fist, hinting at further pain then you are letting on. Further more, you did not argue in the slightest when I had you sit down. As I said before, you are clearly in no shape to tend to yourself".

"Yeah, but-".

"Shut up and let me look at your damned arm!" I snapped.