The Luckiest Girl In The World

Good timing, Dragon called right before she started washing up. A quick click over to assure him that everything was fine so far and to catch him up on where they were, and then she was clicking back and setting the phone down. Scrubbing in was a multi-step process. First, she grabbed the bar of antibacterial soap and spent nearly a minute lathering that onto her hands and rinsing it off with water so hot it made her wince.

She did that several times, until the last of the bubbles were pure white and not at all stained pink.

Then she poured isopropol on, waiting a few moments for that to dry, then followed it up with iodine. If that didn't kill everything, they were doomed from the start. Finally, she pulled on a pair of latex gloves and opened up the suture kit.

"Ready," she announced, moving over to where she had the best view of Gorgon's shoulder. She squashed down another flare of nerves. "Where do I start?"

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"Alright," Eliot said. "Here's what you're going to do." And he carefully detailed what he thought was the best route to take for the stitches, how to place them and the basic stitching technique.

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You know what this would be a great time for? Notes. Definitely a great time to take notes. Guess what Kathy couldn't do?

Take notes.

"Okay," she said, trying to inhale confidence and exhale doubt or whatever those motivational speakers always suggested. "I'm just--just gonna start. Here? You said here, right?"

Yes, Kathy, he'd said there.

And, wow, nothing in her whole life had prepared her for the feeling of piercing someone's skin with a needle. GOOD TO KNOW.

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"Remember to breathe, Kathy," Eliot advised. "You're doin' fine."

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Poor Kathy was doing so well, wasn't she? How steady could she keep her hand when the person who she was stitching up decided to pick this particular time to furrow his brow and hiss between his teeth, then?

Not that Gorgon was aiming to make this difficult on her, really, but there had been a lot of jostling a few minutes ago, and now there were people talking. Like, overall, this whole scenario was kind of going out of its way to drag him kicking and screaming back to the land of the living.

"Fuuuuck..."

Or mumbling and slurring a bit. That too.

Edited Date: 2015-03-07 07:29 pm (UTC)

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"Oh shit!" Kathy was torn between being thrilled that Gorgon had returned to consciousness and being far less than thrilled with his time. "Shit shit shit shit shit!"

See? She could swear. Like when she was less than a third of the way done sewing someone's flesh closed when he woke up.

"Gorgon! How are you--whoa whoa. You should, umm, really stay still for the next few minutes okay? I'm almost done."

Sliiiight exaggeration there.

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This was exactly why Eliot told her to get something for the patient to bite down on.

"That place have a mini-bar? Offer him some whiskey."

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"Is that a-- who's... whiskey?"

He was slowly coming back to his senses, here. Whiskey was sounding pretty damn good, though.

"God, I could go for whiskey."

Even if everything was swimming, a bit. That hadn't actually been a nice, refreshing nap. Shockingly.

"... Done?"

This was going to suck a lot, wasn't it?

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Soooo much. So very super much.

"This is no not the kind of place that has a mini-bar, Mr. Spencer," Kathy said quickly. "It barely qualifies for a kitchenette and bathroom. And drugstores don't carry alcohol."

She hadn't anticipated needing a bar and surgical theater when she'd rented her room, okay?

"Just...steady, Gorgon, easy. Do you remember what happened? With, umm, Painkiller?"

Seriously, Fernando?

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The hell was up with the names? Kathy sounded like she was talking to people in one of Hardison's goofy superhero movies.

"She's tryin' to stitch you up, man," Eliot called to the patient. "You're gonna just have to grin and bear it."

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"I'm going to fucking find fucking Fernando and rearrange his fucking face," Gorgon growled, because apparently yes, he was awake enough to remember that much.

And then he took a moment to look down at his shoulder, bloody mess that it was, complete with Kathy, partway through pulling a passable Frankenstein job on the wound, and he swore a few more times.

"Who the hell is that?"

Look, talking to Mystery Voice there was the best distraction he had on hand without a swig of something hard right then.

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It was better than Frankenstein, omg!

"That's one of my...contacts, from back on the island." She figured he might take it better than if she said teachers. Mostly because Gorgon had no idea the kind of class Eliot and Parker taught. "I needed to know what to do for a gunshot wound if the hospital was off limits--" and yes, she was shooting him a quick frown for that "--and Mr. Spencer was the first person I thought of."

Because, again, the class he taught with Parker.

"It was before I had the Mighty Dragon's number. Umm, he'll be calling later, by the way. And hopefully bringing a friend that'll make all this kinda moot."

But since it was hopefully and later, Gorgon was just going to have to deal.

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"All I seen is the wound itself, man. So don't worry about identity issues."

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"Appreciate that," Gorgon replied, looking... at least somewhat relieved. It was hard to get too comfortable with a bullet lodged in your shoulder and a nervous girl halfway done sewing up the wound. "I'm not even going to ask how the hell you managed to get in touch with the Mighty Dragon, Ba- uh."

Friend from the island? Did he know she was prone to playing Dances With Rainbows all over the streets of Baltimore?

"Kathy." He pulled in a shaky breath, and then grit his teeth. "Okay, give me something to bite down on, and let's get this the hell over with."

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Oh, he was one lucky asshole that Kathy couldn't read narrative.

"I got your wallet," Kathy said, canting a hip towards him. "You think you can get it from my pocket with your good arm? Otherwise I'm gonna have to pause to rewash and change gloves."

Fortunately, Kathy didn't think he was in any position to notice how much lighter his wallet was now than when he'd hit the street. Medical supplies didn't come cheap.

"Or there's what's left of my mask." It was covered in blood. "And the other pillow." Also blood-spattered.

Look, Gorgon had done a lot of bleeding on things, okay?

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Gorgon did a quick look around for the pillow, and...

Ah. No. Okay.

"The wallet'll give me something to sink my teeth into," he decided. "A pillow's not going to do much."

Except maybe keep him from swearing more while he ground into it with his teeth.

"You don't mind me making a reach, I can probably dig it out if you get your hip close enough."

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"Considering I doubt you're gonna be up to any funny business with a bullet stuck in your other shoulder, I think I can trust you enough to grab your own wallet," Kathy said wryly, pivoting enough to place her hip in close proximity. Any closer and she'd practically be sitting on him.

"If you can otherwise stay completely still, there's a bottle of Vicodin near your other hand. The cap is loose, so you should be able to grab a few." Please don't ask how she got her hands on Vicodin, Gorgon. Please please please don't ask. "Now that you're awake, this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

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Gorgon was most of the way to his wallet and halfway to asking before just shutting his mouth and grabbing the wallet.

"God, I'd fucking choke if I tried to dry-swallow pills right now," he muttered. "It already hurts like a bitch. Sew me up and if I'm still awake when you're done, get me something to wash them down with."

He just raised his eyebrows a little, and then stuck his wallet between his teeth. He wasn't getting any less anemic, here.

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Kathy couldn't help it--she raised her eyebrows right back at him. Yes, he was the one shot up and in serious pain, but it wasn't like she was having a picnic here, either. How many people would try to sew him back up, rather than just packing the wound with gauze and dumping his ass in front of a hospital anyway.

She was still going to go back to stitching, though. Attitude or not, he needed care.

"Once I'm done with this, I'll wake you up if I have to," she told him, focusing so her stitches were neat, tight, and even. He'd probably appreciate her going faster, but she wasn't going to take any chances of them coming loose before Dragon's help arrived, if they ever did. "You need to eat and drink a lot to recover all the blood you lost. You cold?"

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One of the upsides to Gorgon having his mouth packed full of wallet, at least, was that he wasn't exactly going to be able to say much else that could get him in trouble, here.

"Freezhin," he ground out, eyes shut tight as she continued to sew. "Half-dresh'd 'n bluddy s'not helph'n, though."

That was at least mostly coherent. Right?

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Oh, like a mouthful of wallet would stop him if he really wanted to say something. God knew that being sewn up hadn't.

"I'm half-dressed and bloody, too, and I can tell you it's sweltering in here," Kathy pointed out. She'd ditched her blood-covered gi when she'd gotten back to the hotel room. Without the belt, it would have only gotten in her way. Her sports bra was plenty supportive but not really all that warm. "You lost a lot of blood and you nearly went into shock. You need a hot bath to try and raise your body temperature and then you need to eat and drink until you can't fit another bite."

And yes, she'd be staying to make sure he did exactly that.

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"Leash s'notta no-budjit transhfyuushin," Gorgon muttered, trying desperately to stay still, even though he had the sudden urge to shudder. Fuck, everything hurt. "Shcore."

He really found himself wanting to lay down and just not function ever again instead, though. Could that he the thing he did? It'd be easy!

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Yeahno, that wasn't going to happen. Kathy would make him take another hit first. Sorry not sorry, Gorgon, you needed to take care of yourself before she'd let you rest.

Such a fascist, right?

"Yeah, exactly," Kathy agreed, having no idea what he was talking about. "Just lie back and think of Mona's pickles and let me finish up here, okay? And then I'll fill you in on what the Mighty Dragon told me."

You know. When he'd called her. On her phone. Cause that was what they did now. Talked on the phone.

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Gorgon wasn't going to argue, really. Not all things considered, though he was still mostly certain that he was just hearing shit thanks to some sort of blood-loss related delirium. Fuck, there was a lot of it. Or maybe he was just getting a weird tint through his goggles. That was a thing that could absolutely reasonably happen even though it never had before, right?

There were a few strangled, somewhat distressed noises coming out of his throat while she stitched, but even those sounded tired, more like half-conscious whimpers than sounds of pained protest. That conversation had made for plenty of excitement, apparently.

By the time she was almost finished, he was slipping under again, his somewhat mangled wallet slipping free and falling to the bed beside his head.

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