Feeling unwell, Claire pushed the food away and felt she might vomit. He stood beside her, reached down to pick up the customary vitamin she tended to forget, and waited for her to take it. Eager to just get it over with, she tossed it into her mouth and gulped the water. When it was done, when the pill had squirmed down her throat, she began to gag.

A warm hand came to the back of her neck and pushed her head between her knees, the purr increasing in volume and strength. The wave of nausea passed, but left her in a cold sweat. It had to be the stress, or maybe she'd picked up a bug. All Claire knew was that there was no fucking way she was swallowing another thing.

"I must check your claiming mark for signs of infection." It was not a suggestion, it was a command, and she knew it.

"Can you just give me a minute?" Claire grumbled, doubled over and not at all eager to straighten.

"I will retrieve what is required. It will take several minutes, which you may use to collect yourself."

The weight of his hand left her neck and Claire watched his boots disappear. Sucking in slow, cooling breaths, she managed to uncurl and wiped the sweat off her face with her forearm. By the time he returned, she’d lolled back in the chair, staring at the familiar concrete ceiling, still feeling like shit.

The beast approached. "Sit up straight."

A new tray was set down, filled with various medical instruments and two prefilled syringes. Eyeballing the strange assortment, Claire tensed when Shepherd slid the strap of her dress down. The gauze was pulled carefully away. Swabs soaked in hydrogen peroxide ran cool over hot skin, making the angry bite fizz. She looked away, unsure if she was going to puke. Everything he was doing seemed to be as concise as possible, to minimize discomfort, the hulk bending down and handling her gently.

She sat still through all the poking and prodding, extremely unhappy with the event, and just about ready to lose her cool and hide in the bathroom. Ointment was smeared over the mess, fresh gauze taped down, and then he stuck a digital thermometer in her ear and nodded at the result.

When those large hands went to grab one of the syringes, Claire stiffened and asked quickly, "What are those?"

"This is an antibiotic." Shepherd held her arm as if she might yank it away and injected her quickly. Claire watched the needle leave her skin, a tiny bead of blood welling. When he came at her with the second one, his grip tightened and he stabbed it much harder into the meaty part of her bicep. While she gave an irritated ouch, he pushed in the plunger and said frankly, "And this is a much purer form of the fertility drug you had in your pockets when you came to the courts."

"What?"