Detoxified

Chapter 20: Episode 12 - Part 1

"No, not yet!"

"Tharn, buddy, you can move your hands now. You've done well, but the medics can take it from here," Techno said gently.

"But... You said I'm the only thing keeping him alive, 'No. If I move my hands--"

"He'll be okay, Tharn," Techno assured. "He's been given clotting factors to control the bleeding; the medics will be able to handle it, I promise."

Somewhere, buried deep within the rational side of his brain, Tharn knew he was being obstructive to the professionals who were working tirelessly to stabilize Type's condition, but the very thought of having to move his hands away from Type's neck actively incited panic within him. He'd been the one to provide the barrier between the severed blood vessels and the outside world--the one thing standing between Type and death's door--and now he was being asked to remove the barrier and watch as the most important person in the world to him was loaded into a van and ferried away.

Tharn gnawed mercilessly on his lower lip, tear-reddened eyes glancing up and scanning over the expectant faces of the medics--one armed with a thick wad of white gauze in his hands, another splinting Type's broken arm and fiddling expertly with an IV, and two more readying themselves to transfer Type onto the stiff backboard lain-out beside him.

"Listen, kid, I know this is tough; obviously you care a lot about him. But his heart rate is dangerously fast, his blood pressure's very low, and he's now getting almost no blood perfusion to his hands--" the medic holding the gauze lifted Type's hand up to show the grayish-blue color in his fingertips-- "he's entering the late stages of hypovolemic shock. We can't afford to wait around any longer."

Tharn averted his gaze to Techno, almost like he was silently asking for some type of guidance-- permission, even. As though, in this moment, Techno was the only one he could fully trust.

Which was a strange turn of events, really; Techno was a loyal and caring person, but he was also notoriously... Jester-like. But right now, he was a completely different person. He was serious and mentally-steeled because the circumstances necessitated it.

In response to Tharn's supplicative stare, he simply offered a reassuring smile, nodded encouragingly and said, "it's okay."

And with that, Tharn breathed a final, trembling breath and reluctantly pulled his hands away from Type's neck.

The medics swiftly got to work, pressing the gauze pads firmly against the wound, securing Type onto the backboard, lifting him onto the nearby gurney and immediately beginning a rush back to the ambulance rig.

But they were abruptly halted by an insistent voice calling after them.

"Wait a second!" Tharn recognized the voice as that of Detective Saengthong.

A tall man with the Royal Thai Police insignia embroidered into his jacket sleeve approached from behind Tharn and Techno and paused at the foot of the gurney. "Can you check his pockets real quick? Does he have his cell phone on him?"

As Techno helped Tharn up to shaky feet, Tharn offered, "he always keeps it in his back right pocket."

One of the medics reached into the recommended pocket, pulled the phone out and handed it off to the detective before returning to the prior mission of escorting Type back to the ambulance.

"Damn..." Saengthong cursed under his breath, sounding oddly impressed.

"What is it?" Tharn asked, trying to catch a glimpse of what the detective was looking at.

The detective promptly turned, presenting the screen of Type's phone to the curious onlookers. Both Tharn and Techno blinked in astonishment at the voice memo recording blinking on the screen, indicating it was still intaking audio from the surroundings.