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niteo_logs2010-03-26 01:29 am
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Entry tags:
Sake can pass for disinfectant
Characters: Fay, Mello
When: March 25th/ after this
Where: Room 502
Rating: TBD. Possible violence and swearing.
Summary: Mello is injured and Fay offers what help he can
Fay gathered up the container of what resembled sake, along with a sheet which he tucked under his arm. Not ideal, but there had been a lot of blood, and sanitation was going to have to take a back seat for the time being. He felt a familiar tickle of guilt at his inability to remember healing magic. All he could learn was how to hurt people. Still, Ashura had said his smile was enough to heal people. Not that he imagined Mello was the type to take comfort in his smiles. Or anyone's smiles for that matter. He was surprised the boy had agreed to let him help, and worried as to how injured this meant he really was.
He descended the stairs and knocked once on the door before pushing it open and peering inside. "Still alive?" he asked, then held up the sake, and offered a smile in case he couldn't understand him without the translator, "What happened?"
When: March 25th/ after this
Where: Room 502
Rating: TBD. Possible violence and swearing.
Summary: Mello is injured and Fay offers what help he can
Fay gathered up the container of what resembled sake, along with a sheet which he tucked under his arm. Not ideal, but there had been a lot of blood, and sanitation was going to have to take a back seat for the time being. He felt a familiar tickle of guilt at his inability to remember healing magic. All he could learn was how to hurt people. Still, Ashura had said his smile was enough to heal people. Not that he imagined Mello was the type to take comfort in his smiles. Or anyone's smiles for that matter. He was surprised the boy had agreed to let him help, and worried as to how injured this meant he really was.
He descended the stairs and knocked once on the door before pushing it open and peering inside. "Still alive?" he asked, then held up the sake, and offered a smile in case he couldn't understand him without the translator, "What happened?"
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Mello looked up at the knock, and was about to call for Fay to come in when the other pushed inside anyway, earning himself a strict look but, surprisingly, no reprimand. Mello only pursed his lips critically, sparing him only a glance before looking back down to toss aside the blood-drenched cloth over his left arm and replace it with another, pressing hard.
"I got shot," he stated the obvious, in flawless French to match Fay's language.
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He dropped his sheet by the door, drawing closer and frowning. "We don't have guns in my world," he said, taking a knee before the couch and tilting his head to look into Mello's eyes, make sure he wasn't in shock. He'd grown familiar enough with guns in their travels, he wasn't fond of them. Ripping tearing things. "Did it go straight through?" he asked, offering up the sake.
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Taking the sake from him, Mello pulled away the cloth he was using to stem the bleeding and poured a bit over his wound, not too much so as not to waste it. His jaw clenched, eyes stinging and the muscles in his throat jumping from how tightly he gritted his teeth, but he made no sound of pain.
He shook his head at the question; it would take a second to get his voice back. For now, he reached for the knife on the table in front of him and poured a little of the alcohol over it as well.
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His other hand reached towards Mello's forehead, wanting to check his temperature before he did anything, maybe smooth back his hair so he could watch his eyes properly.
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He wasn't. He'd been shot a good while ago, on his way out of the burnt remains of the village he now knew had been called Cronoss, and had dragged himself through the snow to get back. He'd lost a lot of blood, hadn't eaten properly in a few days, and was starting to shiver with the cold of the room after taking off his wet clothing.
Fay was right. He probably needed help--but Mello had always been rather terrible at admitting such a thing, stubborn to the end. Hell, it had taken him getting half blown-up to ask for Matt's help, and he was someone Mello trusted.
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The room lit with blue writing and his fur lined coat from Celes appeared, Fay draping it over over him before he could protest. He held out his hand, waiting to see if Mello was going to give him the knife or press on himself.
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"How much medical experience do you have?" he questioned coldly.
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Taking a deep breath, Mello grabbed the sake and took a long swig, wishing they had something stronger. There was still enough left to clean the wound after, and he set the sake back on the table. Normally, mixing alcohol with the painkillers from the first-aid kit that he'd taken before Fay came in wasn't something he would do, but aspirin wouldn't be enough, and he was smart enough to know how much would actually be harmful. All that done, he turned back to Fay with a serious look.
"You're going to pry the bullet out with that knife, and as soon as it comes out, you're going to pour the rest of the sake onto the wound. When that's done, apply firm pressure with those towels until the bleeding slows enough for it to be bandaged. If it isn't stopping, we'll have to cauterize it.
"Do you understand?"
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"Do you want something to bite down on?" he asked.
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His teeth buried in the self-made gag and eyes squeezed shut, Mello did not realize he was screaming until the knife finally pulled away and he became aware that those muffled sounds filling the room were his own whimpers. But it wasn't over, and he knew that, biting down harder and forcing those whimpers down as the alcohol came next, stinging and burning, and Mello could only wonder vaguely why in the world did taking care of injuries hurt more than getting them?
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, it was done, Fay was pressing a clean towel against the wound to stem the bleeding, and Mello collapsed back into the couch. Shakily, he managed to pry his fingers away from his hold on the cushions, bringing the back of his hand up brusquely to wipe away the tears that had squeezed past his eyes before letting it fall limply back down, panting harshly in rough, heaving breaths.
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"You did good," he said gently, then smiled widely, "Worst is over."
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He moved to sit beside him on the couch, placing the gauze carefully over the wound and beginning to wrap it.
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He could guess at why, that Matt had gotten pissy over the fact he'd called him out like that, but it didn't matter. He should have been able to understand why Mello had reprimanded him--and now look at him, accepting medical care from the stranger he was pointing out they should be wary of in the first place. Not that it mattered anymore, apparently.
Some part of Mello hoped that Matt could stay in Credinta, maybe forge some documents or something. He'd be safer there, and more comfortable. Some other part of him was irrevocably selfish and still hung up on the fact that Matt wasn't here, with him. Even if he wasn't his Matt, even so...
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"Matt said he built some sort of generators. If you can turn those on, it'll get warmer." For now, he kept the coat, and it was actually rather noteworthy that despite his snappish attitude, he was not telling Fay to outright leave.
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"So they aren't too nice over there, hmm?" he asked absently, giving a small smear of blood on his thumb a thoughtful lick now that he was mostly out of sight.
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"There was an army basically pillaging the village. So no, none too friendly," he answered, watching Fay with half-lidded eyes.
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"Ha! Magic!" he said with a grin, looking back to Mello, "...You want me to leave now?"
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He sighed, then gave a soft scoff at Fay's exclamation. "Not magic. Technology. ...Matt's good at it." Mello mumbled as an afterthought, then closed his eyes. Again, he ignored the question; perhaps, in reality, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone or not. Not that he really trusted Fay but--
"He'll be fine, and when he gets bored of being mad at me, he'll come back." Despite the firmness in his voice--or perhaps because of it--it almost seemed as if Mello was trying to convince himself.
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"..." He frowned as Mello continued on, tidying the first aid kit, and bloody knife and towel, "What if he's waiting to hear from you first?" he pointed out gently.
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It didn't take long for him to pass out from the exhaustion, curled up on his side underneath Fay's coat.
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