RELENTLESS || NEWT, TMR [1]

[003]: THE SUN AND THE WALL

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CHAPTER THREE;
[ THE SUN AND THE WALL ]
[RELENTLESS || NEWT]

     LUCAS KNEW THAT HE HAD PLENTY TO FACE WITHIN THE NEXT FEW days. He had established within a span of two minutes that he would need as many hours of sleep as he could get, but it took him only three seconds to realize that it was going to be practically impossible to get because of just how chaotic the bonfire had left the other boys in the glade. Lucas found himself waking up every few hours to either cheers stemmed from the religiously loud fighting ring or the sound of multiple people stumbling through the door and crashing onto one of the few empty cots located in the small hut. Although it annoyed him very much just how loud these boys actually were, it wasn't like he could say or do anything about it. He didn't need to create more problems for himself, he realized.

Lucas let out a loud and prolonged yawn as he propped himself up upon his elbows, using his fatigued hands to wipe away the sleep from his eyes. He could make out Clint standing towards the front of the hut; the boy was balancing on the toes of his shoes as he kneeled before another. A sewing kit was seated beside him on the cot, his hands slowly working to seal a gash that was stretched across his knee. "You're awake." He suddenly said. Clint turned his head to Lucas momentarily, a rag thrown across his shoulder. "Finally. I was hoping I wouldn't have to wake you myself."

Lucas let out a chuckle as he rose to a sitting position. He felt a sting ripple up his side, causing a hiss to leave his curled lips. Lucas cupped the bruised area and crinkled his nose. "How long will it take for this to heal again?"

Clint pursed his lips, "Awhile, I'd say. But you should be able to walk around without the cane in a few days. But hey, I'm not a doctor, so." He shrugged his shoulders as he stood to his feet, then grabbing the kit from the bed and clapping the boy on the back. "You're good to go, shank."

Lucas watched as the boy left the hut, a white bandage secured around his knee and tightly knotted to stay in place. "How long have you been doing this?" He asked out of curiosity, swinging his legs off the bed with another light hiss of anguish.

Clint tilted his head to the side, seeming to try and search his mind for an answer to provide him with. "Maybe four months? Jeff's been here for two; he's the other Med-Jack." He shuffled towards the counter where a majority of the medical supplies were stacked. Lucas watched as he fished through a box before pulling out a clear bottle of transparent liquid and some bandages. "Here, clean yourself up."

Lucas' brows furrowed when he tossed it on the bed next to him. "You're not gonna do it?"

Clint let out a snort, "You stitched up your own wound. If you can do this too, that means being a Med-Jack is your callin', greenbean. It'll save you from going through all the other job rotations." He told him before rinsing his hands, not bothering to provide further explanation as he busied himself with cleaning what had been taken out of its place.