Final Hours

Chapter Twenty Two

    Christian held the ice tight against my arm while him and Eric went back and forth over who would do the stitching.
     I rolled my eyes, laying my head back and staring up at the ceiling. The growing, searing pain was becoming overwhelming. And the stinging of the alcohol wasn't helpful.
    "I'll do it." Eric finally said, as he took the needle and thread from his hand. I sat hesitantly as I felt Chris hold the ice cube against the wound.
    
      Chris held his weight against my wrists keeping my arms down. Eric looked at the threaded needle hesitantly and back at my arm.
      "Do you need me to do it?" Chris asked looking over at Eric. Eric took a second and shook his head in response.
       "No, I can do it." He said leaning in closer to me. I closed my eyes tight and prepared myself for it. I felt the wet cold ice cube being held against my arm, and in the same instance the poking pain of the needle entering my skin.
        "Gahh!" I exclaimed, squeezing my eyes closed even tighter and balling my fists.
        "I'm sorry." Eric whispered under his breath as he continued. He paused for a moment to hold the ice down. "I thought the ice would do more." He said adding a little more pressure.
        
         "It's...temporary, and it takes longer than five seconds to work." I struggled to respond, but what came out was more sarcastic than I meant it to be.
         "Oh." He said again quietly. He looked up at the ice that was still held against my arm, Chris still pushing my wrists into the couch cushion.
          "Don't stop...you've already started, it's too late." I said opening my eyes and turned to face Eric. "You're doing fine." I added quietly taking a deep breath and looking back up at the ceiling.

        I felt my heart racing as the needle began moving again. a couple tears fell down my cheeks as he continued. I bit down on my lip to take my mind off my arm, hard enough to draw blood.
        "I...I think I'm done." Eric said using my knife to cut the thread. I took a moment to breath before turning to look at my arm.
        "Not bad for your first time." I laughed weakly with a smile. He smiled as Chris stood up taking his hands off my wrists.
    
        "I'm gonna grab the tools we left out there, and I might as well hang up some wood if the coasts clear." Chris said walking out of the room and over to the door.
        "Christian, you can't do that alone." I said sitting up using my other arm to hold me up, cradling my wounded arm against my chest.
        "And what did you coming out with me fulfill?" Chris asked sarcastically grabbing the door handle.
     
       "I'll go with you." Eric said, beginning to stand up using the coach to steady himself.
       "No you shouldn't even have done this you need more rest then me." I responded, placing a hand on his so he couldn't stand up. He looked at me and slowly sat himself back down on the floor.
       "I'll ask Henry." Chris rolled his eyes, turning around and walking down the hallway.
      "Thank you." I added looking quietly watching him walk away down the hallway shaking his head.

       "Here get off the ground you can have the couch back now." I said pushing with my other arm to get off the couch.
       "No no, you can stay. I'm fine...I've been wanting to get off that couch for, well forever." He responded with a smile and laugh. Smiling I looked down and scooted myself over to the other side of the couch patting the seat next to me. He pushed himself off the ground and sat down beside me.
    
       "How's your stitches?" I asked leaning forward. He lifted his shirt enough to see them and turned slightly.
      "Good, I think...better then before." He responded, lowering his shirt.
       "That's good, especially with how much you've been moving." I responded, he smiled and leaned back against the couch, his arm rested on the back of it.

       "So how exactly did this happen, now that you're semi conscious?" He asked looking over at me. Sitting up to be more comfortable I turned to face him as well.
       "Well...a walker grabbed me through the fence, I tripped and fell down the hill, and the knife decided my arm was a safe place to land." I responded smiling sarcastically.
        "Ouch...it's a good thing your brother is fixing that, imagine if that was Lana...hell even Hudson." He said to himself leaning his head into his hand and staring at the wall in front of him.

      It was perfect timing as Henry and Chris walked through the hallway and out the front door, the sun was starting to go down so they would have to work fast. But luckily they were both strong and capable of that stuff. I rubbed my eyes looking at the setting sun, I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes tiredly.
      I felt myself slowly falling asleep as something guided me against the cushioned arm of the couch, but I was far too tired to care. And in way too much pain to fight it.