It didnâ€™t take long for Taylor to deduct that when Meko was overwhelmed or not sure about something heâ€™d start rambling about whatever came to mind. For a brief moment he found it ironic that he had gotten the entire story in less than 20 minutes by simply sitting next to him. Picturing the face of Madam Director made him chuckle, sheâ€™d be pissed and he loved it.<br/><br/>â€œI donâ€™t suppose you would remember my telling you my name. Iâ€™m Taylor Rochester.â€ He adjusted his position in his seat and ground his teeth together to keep from vocally expressing his pain. Taylor didnâ€™t want to put any more stress on Meko, especially since Meko was the one flying the chopper. It was only then that he realized his animal had retreated back from the forefront of his mind. He was partially relieved because he wasnâ€™t sure he could fight the animal off if it decided to attack and take over.<br/><br/>Taylor returned from his thoughts as the gas and engine lights started blinking and beeping their warnings at them. He peered out the cracked window to see if they had made it as close to the house as they could and relaxed when he could make out the cabin surrounded almost completely by trees, save one overgrown gravel path.<br/><br/>If it had been any other day Taylor would have reacted fast enough to grab Meko and shelter the kid right before impact, but today wasnâ€™t any other day. He jerked forward on impact and his head slammed into the dash, a gash opening in his own head but thankfully this one knit together pretty quickly leaving only a trail of blood running down from his hair line and beside his nose.  His pride died just a little more when Meko helped pull him out of the helicopter and haul him away.<br/><br/>The heat of the explosion danced across his back as his knees buckled and he hit the ground beside Meko. Some part of him took the time to register the fact that the grass here was just as soft as before and that heâ€™d have to pay the care taker extra for keeping it up so well. A pained groan escaped him as he forced himself to stand and look down at his comrade. The kid would have made a damn good Marine, never leave anybody behind. Despite the amount of pain coursing through his body he lifted Meko up like he was as light as a feather and draped the kid over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There was no way in hell he was carrying him in his arms, no way in hell.<br/><br/>Taylor had to put his free shoulder into the door to get the old thing to open he looked at the area and shook his head. It wasnâ€™t dirty but you could defiantly tell that nobody had lived here in a while. He found his old bedroom and carefully laid the fae down on the bed. Taylor could have hit himself for not noticing the cut on his shoulder.<br/><br/>Trenton Rochester had a thing about keeping a first aid kit in every room.<span style="font-style: italic">â€œYou never know when youâ€™ll need one or where youâ€™ll be.â€</span>He was told that so many times that he too adopted the habit of keeping a kit in every room.  Taylor fished it out of the bedside table along with a bottle of peroxide and hand sanitizer.  Most of the time heâ€™d wash his hands but it didnâ€™t look too bad from here. He rolled up Mekoâ€™s sleeve and started to work on it. A large nonstick pad, a few pieces of medical tape, a couple of swipes of peroxide, and a layer of antibiotic ointment later he was done with his job.<br/><br/>As he stood up he remembered that he himself needed to be patched up, he needed to get the bullet out of his leg before it started the process of healing. Taylor limped to the bathroom in the master bedroom, scrubbed his hands free of all the dried blood and perched himself on the edge of the bathtub to deal with his own wounds.<br/><br/>Training to never leave a sign you were there made him clean everything up after he got out of the shower and drop to the bed. His muscles finally relaxing, heâ€™d get up in a little while to do whatever else he had to do to secure this place.