Mad Woman✓

11. Wounds

"These kinds of wounds they last and they last now, did you think it all through? All these things will catch up to you. And time can heal, but this won't, so if you're coming my way.... Just don't"

A/N: I am no doctor or medicine student so this chapter might include information that is not true! I 'know' all medical stuff in this and future chapters from Grey's Anatomy and the internet, so it is likely that there will be stuff in those chapters that is completely wrong or makes no sense. Even though I try to really look into it how this stuff works, there might still be mistakes in it!

   POV JOE:

I stare at her, at the blood gushing down her leg, flowing from between her fingers. Her face is pale, her lips dry. Her eyes are filled with panic. Fear.

"I-" I want to say something, anything... But I can't get words out.

I shot her.

I shot her and I didn't even notice I did so.

I am horrible.

I shot her, the person that I care about more than almost anything.

The woman I love.

I shot her.

Her eyes search mine and she shakes her head, "No", she whispers, her voice raw, "No. It wasn't you. Elias. When his gun fell to the floor, it wasn't you. It was Elias."

Not me.

It was not me.

It was Elias.

I am going to kill him. Every single one of them.

I will not let them do this to her again. Or to anyone.

"Joe, are you alright?"

She shouldn't be asking me that. Not when blood is pouring from a gunshot wound on her thigh.

"Yes, I'm- What-"

"Call John."

"John? The guy that sent a guy that knew our real names?"

"It was his cousin, I should have recognized him. I met him a few years back. But I shot a bullet at him. Please call John! Tell him what happened and please ask him how to not lose my leg or at least how to not let me die. Please, Joe."

I don't trust him.

Not at all.

But right now it's my only chance. Her only chance. If I don't call him-

Taylor might bleed out within an hour and I have no clue on what to do. I don't know anything, besides not touching the cotton part of a bandaid.

So I grab the phone and call the number Taylor gives me.

It's being answered immediately.

"John Fowler."

"Taylor's been shot, she's bleeding out. She's standing in a pool of her own blood and we're in the middle of the ocean", I say breathlessly.

"Okay, Joe, take a breath. Is she conscious?"

"Yes."

"Where has she been shot?"

"Her thigh. She is very, very pale, John.."

"Okay, Joe, listen carefully. You're going to find a piece of fabric and bind it very tightly around her leg, about two inches above the wound. If you don't have fabric, then I need you to apply pressure to the femoral artery. That is between the groin and the upper thigh. You will have to use the entire heel of your hand to reduce circulation. Is she laying down?"