niteo_logs | Sake can pass for disinfectant

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?"

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Having pulled out the first-aid kit he'd wisely stolen from Credinta a while back, Mello was sitting on the worn couch in the living room, his coat and shirt stripped off and slung over the back of the couch. He hadn't had a chance to turn on the generator yet--and clearly, nobody had been here in a few days--so the room was freezing, but he had no time to mind that now.

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.

An eyebrow arched for a moment as Mello spoke words he was able to understand, and while they didn't call it French where he was from the two languages were close enough that there wasn't much to distinguish them from one another.

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.

Mello frowned at him when he caught Fay staring into his face like that and shifted away slightly, in pain and irritable--and thus, not entirely appreciative even if the other was only making sure he was all right.

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.

Fay winced as Mello poured the stuff over his wound. Kid was made of strong stuff, but he shouldn't have to do this all by himself. He reached out his hand to lay over Mello's, the one with the knife, shaking his head, "You do that to yourself and you're going to pass out," he cautioned gently, "Let me help you. You don't have to act so strong all the time."

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.

The touch to his face brought a soft hiss to Mello's lips and he pulled away, forcing out a rough, "I'm fine."

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.

Fay beamed at him, withdrawing the hand. "You sound like Kurogane. Are you going to let me help you or you going to let yourself suffer because you're stubborn?" he asked calmly. He noted the shivering and hesitated a moment before writing out a spell with a finger, he owed him that much, he could't contact the witch, and had....essentially driven a wedge between he and Matt within five minutes of talking to them.

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.

Mello's eyes widened for a moment during the spell, taking a second to realize what it was, and though he had never witnessed anything of the sort, his previous conversation with Fay had at least provided him with the groundwork to realize what was going on. Mello frowned at the glowing blue writing suspiciously, but didn't have time to protest when suddenly a coat appeared, quickly covering him by the time he realized what had happened. He said nothing about it however, instead turning to stare dubiously at Fay's hand, held out for the knife.

"How much medical experience do you have?" he questioned coldly.

Fay smiled in a way which suggested he had very little. He couldn't remember healing spells, and his only real experience had come from bandaging up Sakura-chan and Syaoran-kun. "...You can do it yourself if you want," he said in a carefree manner, still smiling sweetly, "But if you pass out I'll have to finish," he warned, shrugging and beaming at him with his head tilted. His fingers curled, slowly withdrawing his hand. So stubborn. He was making him miss Kurogane.

Regarding him critically for a few moments, Mello finally gave a curt nod, flipped the knife over, and held out the hilt toward Fay. "Follow my instructions precisely," he told him in a voice that brooked no argument. He was firmly convinced he wouldn't actually pass out--he was, really, or he was trying to be-- but doing it one-handed would be difficult at best. Fay could act as his hands.

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?"

Fay nodded with a practiced calm, as though he did this sort of thing every day, examining the knife and shifting closer. The blade got close to the wound but he stopped at the last minute, looking up at him.

"Do you want something to bite down on?" he asked.

Probably a good idea, so Mello gave a curt nod, reaching over to rummage through the first-aid kit for something to bite down on. A wad of gauze should do. Stuffing it in his mouth, he looked back at Fay for him to continue.

Fay nodded, putting a hand to Mello's shoulder to make sure he kept still. He gripped the knife firmly, trying to be as quick and precise as he could be as he dug it into the wound. He ignored any noise or movements from Mello, feeling something hard beneath the tip of the knife, twisting and wedging it until he was able to get it out. The remaining sake was poured quickly over the wound and he pressed the towel to him firmly to try and stem the bleeding. The soft smile had remained on his face the whole while, lips giving a small twitch as a rivet of blood ran down along his wrist, eyes taking on a more yellow tint.

Mello leaned back, grabbed a fistful of couch material with his good hand, took a deep breath and-- shit, it felt like being slammed into with a semi, waves of pain coursing through his body. His fingers tightening on the material he held, nails scratching in and grip white-knuckled and shaking as Fay quickly pushed the tip of the knife around, digging between muscle and tendon to pry out the little piece of metal lodged inside him.

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.

Fay looked up apologetically, and tried to push the thought blood from his mind. It wasn't Kurogane's, it wouldn't do much of anything for him. It didn't do much to stem the craving though. He continued to hold the towel firmly in place, impressed that he hadn't passed out from the pain.

"You did good," he said gently, then smiled widely, "Worst is over."

Unclenching his jaw and spitting out the gag to the side, Mello only gave a weak grunt in response, leaning limply back against the couch as if barely able to sit up. Which was pretty much true, and even his stubborn pride was suffering from this ordeal because he didn't move, didn't speak for now, and simply let Fay handle it, choosing instead to just breathe. The bandages and gauze were in plain sight on the table, so there was no reason for further instructions. Unless it didn't stop bleeding soon--and this time, Mello was darkly certain he would pass out if they had to cauterize it on top of everything.

"You should be more careful when you have someone you have to come home to," he pressed in a gently chiding voice, glancing beneath the towel. The bleeding seemed to be under control, and he reached for the bandages, "Especially in a place like this."

He moved to sit beside him on the couch, placing the gauze carefully over the wound and beginning to wrap it.

It took him a moment to be able to find his voice again, and Mello choked out bitterly, "Someone to come home to? There's no one here, as you can see."

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...

"Doesn't mean you can't fix things," he said, still smiling, wrapping the bandage firmly, but not too tight and tying it off, "Then you will have someone to come home to again. And you'll have to make sure you don't get hurt then. If you died Matt would be very sad. So you have to be careful," he said with nod.

Mello scowled at him, pulling his arm back carefully to hold against his chest instinctively. "I was careful," he hissed, avoiding the issue of Matt. "If I wasn't, I'd have been dead or captured days ago. Stop being pretentious."

"You think I'm pretentious?" Fay said, giving a small laugh, beaming sweetly and tilting his head, "I just want to help. You smart people don't know much about yourselves for being geniuses. Are you still cold?" he asked, smoothing the coat he'd draped over him.

He slapped Fay's hand away--weakly, but the intent was there--and fixed him with a glare that was too tired to really be effective. "If you want to help, you can do so without running your mouth," he snapped, then suddenly slumped to the side, mostly unintentionally but finally letting himself lie down, though not fully since Fay was somewhat in the way.

"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.

"I don't like it when it's quiet," he commented, withdrawing his hand with a pout. He looked to the generators, going over to fiddle with them both in the hopes of getting them working and giving Mello room to lay down properly.

"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.

Once Fay moved away, Mello stretched his legs out as well, turning on his good side and pulling the coat more snugly over himself.

"There was an army basically pillaging the village. So no, none too friendly," he answered, watching Fay with half-lidded eyes.

His eyes were a full yellow now and he gave a small sigh, "Think they'll come here?" he asked, and not long after the generator kicked into gear, seeming to come to life.

"Ha! Magic!" he said with a grin, looking back to Mello, "...You want me to leave now?"

"Seems they think this place is cursed or something, so I don't know."

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.

"Maybe it is," Fay said thoughtfully, pushing himself to his feet. Maybe it was the curse of the twins again, it would continue to follow him where ever he went, whatever world.

"..." 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.

Mello gave a soft grunt, feigned disinterest. "Maybe I'll text him in a day or two to see what's up." His eyes remained closed, though he heard Fay moving around. By the sounds, he could tell he was only cleaning up a bit though, and Mello was too tired to bother with looking over to see.

"Don't wait too long. I'm sure he's waiting," he said, smiling towards the boy. They were awfully young to be dealing with this. "You need to rest up so your body can heal itself, don't put too much strain on yourself."

"I know, mother," Mello growled appreciatively. "I've had worse."

Fay beamed, ruffling Mello's hair and taking a seat on the floor beside the couch, "Go to sleep."

Mello just slapped away Fay's hand when it touched his hair with a warning hiss. He could have acted more grateful, perhaps, but it was just Mello's way. In any case, he didn't tell Fay to leave--and that was certainly something, considering.

It didn't take long for him to pass out from the exhaustion, curled up on his side underneath Fay's coat.

Fay didn't seem put off by the slapping, and continued to sit by the couch for some time, chin perched a top his knees, mind drifting to other matters as he kept watch over Mello.

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Sake can pass for disinfectant

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