Smells Like Winter

33: Bandages & Sweatshirt Struggles

Maddy crawled closer to Carter, her heart racing for no reason. "Carter?" she whispered his name hesitantly.

"Mmm..." he hummed, but didn't open his eyes. Was he smiling in his sleep?

He looked so tired that Maddy couldn't get herself to wake him up. She gently lifted him up in a sitting position and placed one of the backpacks behind his back to keep him steady. He didn't wake up, and something told Maddy that he wouldn't even if there was a nuclear war going on.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the hem of his sweatshirt and lifted it up above his head to cast an inspective look at his left arm. She let his sweatshirt drop in her lap and peered at the red blossoms of blood climbing up the length of his biceps, staining through his white bandages.

Even a bit flustered by the sight of his six-pack abs, she immediately got to work. She removed his bloody bandages and threw them aside. The sight in front of her left her gasping for air.

The bullet had left a deep, lengthy scrape on his left biceps, like a cut from a sword. And it was right where the tattooed vine was chaining the phoenix's hooked talon. Cutting through it.

Setting the bird free.

Maddy cleaned the excess blood - both wet and dried - from his wound carefully, and it was even clearer then. It was breathtaking, how the scar from the bullet looked like a part of the tattoo itself. As if someone had cut the vine on purpose, letting the phoenix fly away into the sunset, into its liberty.

Maddy bit her lip hard, and, holding her breath, she let her fingertips trace the outline of the tattoo, like the touch of a feather. Carter shifted in front of her and she pulled her hand back, scared she'd woken him up. But he just turned his head to the other side and was asleep again. She let out that breath she was holding and grabbed the clean bandages she had prepared.

Too focused on wrapping the boy's biceps, she pursed her lower lip and frowned in deep concentration. Her fingers fumbled with the final knot and she felt hot all of a sudden. Why was she doing this? How was she supposed to do it? Her hands were frozen cold against the warmth of his skin, shaking a bit. She couldn't see clearly in the pitch-black darkness of the night, so she leaned closer to him, trying to remember how Sia had done it. Just when she was finishing with the bandages, she felt Carter flinching back.

"Get away from me," Carter rasped.

Maddy darted him a look full of resentment, but pulled her hands back. "How are you feeling?" she asked, resting them on top of her thighs.

He let his head fall back, running a hand through his dark messy hair. He loosed a strained breath, looking... flustered. "I got shot. How do you think I'm feeling?" he barked.

"I thought it was just a scratch. Wasn't that what you said?" Maddy's eyes were cloaked in innocence as she spoke. An imperceptible, yet mocking smile tugged one corner of her lips slightly upwards.

Carter squinted at her and Maddy knew exactly what he was thinking: Fuck you, princess. He looked away. "Whatever," he mumbled.

"Can you move?"

"Of course I can move, I'm not dead." He cocked his head to the side. "Yet."

Maddy shook her head, her chestnut brown hair hiding her smile as it fell in voluminous waves in front of her face. She had to admit she liked his black humour. Just a little bit.

"I meant your arm. Can you move your arm?" she asked again.

Carter scowled. "Yeah. I can. Now quit playing the nurse with me."