I?: The Girl Who Ran: The Altruism Test- Currently Shelved

{VI: Tatiana} In Which Kind Tatiana Wins

Tatiana dragged the man inside. He was bleeding, and a trail of blood glistened on the floor. She left him on the floor to go stand on her balcony for a few minutes in the freezing cold, in case anyone was following him. She went back inside and got her real cane, stepping around the heap of muscle on the floor. She dumped the first aid kit on the floor next to the man, whom she assumed was Red Hood, while an internal debate between Selfish and Kind Tatiana ensued.

Selfish Tatiana: Why are we taking a random man with a bucket on his head into the APARTMENT!

Kind Tatiana: Because he's bleeding and he obviously needs help!

Selfish: We should leave him to the birds. He probably deserved whatever happened to him.

Kind: Nobody deserves to bleed out on a balcony. How would you like it if someone cut you up and left you on a balcony?

Selfish: I would never be in that situation.

Kind: Come on! We can get information this way!

Selfish: Nope. We should let him die.

Kind: WE ARE NOT GOING TO LET HIM DIE!

Selfish: We should. And look! Now he's getting blood all over the nice hardwood.

Kind: It's fake wood.

Selfish: That's not the point.

And just like that, Kind Tatiana won the debate and she flipped the man face up. Her knee screamed in protest as she kneeled and examined her patient.

Tatiana took his cracked armor off, piece by piece, setting it on the floor next to him. She grabbed a knife off of his belt and cut off his shirt, tugging softly where the blood had already dried. The man had several cuts on his chest and what looked like a stab wound in his side. It didn't seem very deep, but it was bleeding profusely. She doused it in alcohol and then dug around the First Aid kit until she found a needle. She tore the packet open and took the needle out with tweezers.

Tatiana inserted the needle into the skin and pushed it through to the other side. His skin was rough and warm, though decidedly colder than it should have been. She sewed slowly but steadily, tying a knot at the end. She cleaned up the rest of his torso, stitching where needed with tiny, even stitches, or otherwise applying ointment and bandages.

Her knee throbbed but she continued, struggling to take off his boot. Thankfully, it was only sprained. She looked around for a wrap and came back with two. Tatiana wound the wrap around his ankle, setting it gently on the floor.

All she could see on his legs was a gash on his thigh, maybe where a bullet grazed it. She took the scissors from the kit and cut a hole around the wound. Personally, she did not want to cut his pants off. That would probably make for a lot of disturbing conversations.

Tatiana tore open another package and sewed the injury closed. She inspected the rest of him.

She poked his well defined, and naked, abs. Real, hard muscle. She should have assumed that, considering that they bled. His skin was covered in pale, faded scars, the most prominent of which was a dark line from his collarbone to his waist.

Tatiana moaned as she stood and stretched her knee. She gathered up the wrappers and dumped them in the trash can by her desk. She leaned on her cane and looked at him. His helmet didn't seem to be dented or cracked, so she left it on his head. Kind Tatiana: 2, Selfish Tatiana: 0. She wondered if the others were looking for him.

She set her cane on the table and hooked her arms under his. She straightened and hissed, "Tyazhelyy, tyazhelyy, tyazhelyy!" She hugged his chest, trying not to break any of the stitches she had just painstakingly put in. She inched over to the couch. Her calves finally bumped into the couch and she fell onto it, with the Red Hood on top of her. He was like a warm, albeit suffocating, blanket. Tatiana scooched out from underneath him and swung his legs onto the couch. She grabbed her cane, retrieved an ice pack, and wrapped it in a dishtowel, setting it on his propped up ankle. She reached around his waist to unbuckle the gun holsters, blushing.