Closed / To be Deleted

[Iilyda]

"Oh. Alright then," Ezra said, standing up from the bed and crushing the soda can in his fist. He tossed it in the trash and then crossed over to Alex, pulling the blankets up to her chin. Leaning back a bit, Ezra pushed his sleeve down to look at his watch. Well, it was much later than he had thought it was. And having injuried her arm so recently had to have exhauseted Alex out. "'Night, Alex. Do you want me to stay on with you for the night, or would you prefer to sleep by yourself?" It was an awkward question, but a necessary one. Ezra had known patients to become exceedingly panicked once night set in.

[Dradogo]

Joke wandered over to Mortimer and Biddy, looking at the dog curiously. He wasn't really sure what he was looking at, but frowned when he realised it was the bullet. "Umm... will taking it out make her better?" He asked.

[Iilyda]

Mortimer shrugged, thumbing the wound gently. Biddy gave a small yelp, narrowing her eyes in pain. "I think," Mortimer breathed, leaning in closer. He was suddenly taken by a vision of carnage once he got up closer though - of his own flesh mottled and torn so grotesquely. Mortimer jerked backwards as if struck, his head turning away from the injury he had inflicted. This was all his fault. Voices ricocheted through his head, assualting him with blame, and he took a ragged breath. "Cloth," Mortimer said eventually, pointing to his own bloody shirt now loose around Biddy. "More."

[Dradogo]

Joke nodded, pulling off large bows from his waist and handing them to Mortimer. He tore the end of his sleeve off too, giving that to Mortimer in case more was needed. He looked down at Biddy sadly before muttering to Mortimer, "She'll be okay. She has to be okay."

[Iilyda]

Mortimer just nodded, taking the bows tenderly from Joke's hand and being careful not to look at his own as he did so. Dipping the cloth into the boiled water, he wrung them out and then wiped the wound clean once again, being cautious of touching the bullet itself. Mortimer had no clue how to begin removing it. He imagined it had to be a little like removing a tick - you grabbed it carefully with a pair of tweezers and yanked as gingerly as possible. Would that work for a bullet wound? Mortimer turned to Joke again, still swabbing the wound with water. "How?"

[Dradogo]

Joke shrugged, not having the slightest idea. "Just pull it out? It wouldn't hurt for long." He suggested, unable to think of a simpler way.

[Iilyda]

Mortimer nodded, but hesitated. He didn't like the idea of just reaching in and yanking it with his bare hands. Not at all. But it wasn't as if either of them had a pair of tweezers on them, and Mortimer doubted his chances of being to innovate a makeshift pair from the textile mill scraps. Mortimer took a steadying breath in, releasing it shakily. Right. Well, to start, you needed clean hands if you touched an open wound. Right? That's what the doctors were always doing before they checked up on you, if they weren't wearing rubber gloves. So Mortimer stood up, walking hunched back to the busted door and peering out through the crater in its middle. He didn't see anything or anyone around. Slipping through, Mortimer went back to the creek and dipped his hands in, scrubbing himself thoroughly with the icy water. He shivered as he washed, looking up to the darkening sky. It would be night soon. Mortimer didn't imagine those guards would stay away for long when they didn't find them anywhere else. Shaking the water from his hands, Mortimer went back to the mill and inside to Biddy, who was still whining softly from her position on the floor. That pang of guilt simply would not depart from Mortimer's gut. He thought maybe it was a maggot, crawling around inside his corpse, and now it was knawing at the lining of his intestines. Mortimer shook the thought away and kneeled down beside the Doberman, his hands hovering over the bullet wound uncertainly.

[*-Insano-*]

Alex bit her lip. She usually couldn't sleep when she was alone but she knew he must have been exhausted to. "Um, I'll be fine. I can sleep alone." she knew she probably wouldn't be sleeping much tonight anyway. She always had horrible nightmares and could never get back to sleep. She hadn't ever mentioned it to anyone before and she didn't know if she should mention it to him.

[Dradogo]

Joke waited patiently, not wanting watch, but unable to tear his eyes away from the dog. "Just do it quickly and it won't hurt as much." He suggested to Mortimer, although he wasn't really sure about how much it would hurt Biddy.

[Iilyda]

Ezra looked at Alex carefully, eyeing her expression studiously. "Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly, making no move to go to the door. "It's no trouble for me to stay. It's a part of the job to be prepared to stay overnight every night." Ezra couldn't exactly console with the idea of locking the door and leaving Alex alone for the whole night. After spending an entire day with her, he had a premonition staying on till morning was likely the better idea. He couldn't help her if he was back at home, in his own bed.

Mortimer nodded again, but the moments of his hesitation seemed to stretch as his hands lingered over the open injury. I don't want to do it, I don't want to do it, I don't want to do it, I don't want to do it.... Before he could change his mind, Mortimer forced himself to reach down into the bloody mess of muscle and sinew and grip his fingers around the small bullet. The metal was slimy and wet to the touch. Pulling it out wasn't so much an action as a retaliation - the act of reaching his hand into Biddy's injury was too much for Mortimer to handle, and his arm jerked back quickly, the bullet still in his fingers. The moment it was wrenched free, he dropped it right out of his hand, the blood still staining her skin, but Biddy howled and jerked for all she was worth. The sound was like a knife slicing into Mortimer's chest, and for a minute or so, he just sat there shaking - staring at his bloody hand as Biddy continued to yowl with pain.