Blue Blood

Hold Me Closer

As much as I try to wrap it, it just keeps gushing out blood. I keep the arrow in, hoping to keep some blood inside but it doesn't seem to make much difference.

I pick him up and start carrying him to some shade as he breathes heavy on my chest. I can't believe I let this happen, how could I be so careless!?

"Are . . . Are you okay?" Rody asks, out of breath.

I ignore him and set him down as gently as I can and start looking through the bags once again to see if there's anything that can be of use. All I find is more bandages and some rubbing alcohol.

"Okay-okay-okay think." I whisper to myself.

I think back to all the the books on medicine I have read. Rubbing alcohol would kill the bacteria but would also kill some of the bodies cells. Water and soap is our best option. Well, we already have soap but what about water?

I check the canteens and see that only one has any clean water left. I grab it and sit down next to Rody. He's trying to act tough but I can tell that it hurts.

"Alright, this is gonna hurt okay so just hold my hand and bite down on this."

I hold out a rag for him to bite down on. His eyes hold so much fear for someone who just took an arrow for a horse. I take a deep breath and start to pull on the arrow.

Immediately he starts screaming into the cloth, squinting his eyes shut. His grip on my hand makes my bones hurt. Every bone in my body tells me to stop but I have to keep going.

It takes longer than expected when the arrow head detaches from the shaft. Gods, I wish I had smaller fingers for this. Carefully I stick my fingers inside the wound and try to pull it out. He's crying now between his screams and I have to hold him down. I try my best to drown it out and focus on the hot, sticky, red. It makes me want to throw up.

Finally, I'm able to pull the arrow out but he's already lost a lot of blood. His screams turn into pained yelling and his face becomes a waterfall of tears.

"Alright, it's gonna be okay but I have to sew it up and clean it."

He shakes his head begging me to stop but if I do he'll die. I grab a needle.

In and out, in and out. My hand is shaking so much but I have to hurry so my work becomes sloppy. Under the cloth I can hear him plead and beg and I find myself soon crying as well. I try my best not to cry on the wound.

I finish sewing and immediately pour soapy water over the wound. His scream is high pitched and pure agony. He continues to scream as I softly scrub the wound. I keep whimpering out apologies but I doubt he can hear it over himself.

I dry it quickly as Rody frees his hand and presses as hard as he can against my chest, trying to push me away. I hold my ground and wrap up the wound. He's done yelling and screaming and now just cries. I clean off the blood from him and help get him out of his dress and into something soft and warm.

He simply cries against the tree as I try to light a fire but my hands are so shaky and red that it's difficult. I look down at myself then look away fast; I'm covered in his blood.

I light the fire and try to wipe off my hands as best I can but it's subpar at best. His crying turns to whimpers and I run my fingers through my hair, forgetting that they're still drenched in blood.

I notice that I haven't stopped crying and try to stop myself. I take deep breaths, I look at the trees, I try everything, but it won't stop.

"M-Mags . . ."

I rush over and sit at his side but when I go to touch him he flinches away.

"I-I ah- . . . I'm so sorry!" I burst into tears and hide my face in my hands.

How could I have done this? I've caused him so much pain, he probably hates me! How could I have let this happen?

He pulls me with his one good arm into a hug. I cry into his shoulder and he cry's lightly into mine. We hold the hug until Rody stops crying but I still can't stop myself. His screams will never leave my head.

"It's okay . . . It's gonna be okay . . . We're still here, we're still alive." He whispers to me.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry-I had to. I didn't want to-I couldn't . . ." I whimper.

He puts a hand on my back and rubs small shaky circles into it trying to calm me. Miraculously, it works and I'm breathing normal.

"Mags, I'm cold." He tells me shivering.

Without hesitating, I wrap my blood stained jacket around his shoulders for warmth and start building our tent. My ears stay hyper alert incase he needs me again.

It doesn't take long to set up the tent. One hand under his legs and one under his back, I lift him up and set him gently in the pile of blankets. He snuggles in deep, shivering.

"O-Okay, I'm going to get changed . . . Okay?"

He nods his head and closes his eyes. I get changed quickly and exit to put out the fire. Probably not a good idea to leave the Maston guards a beacon to come find us with and finish the job.

I step in and he's partially on my side. I get in my sack and realize that I'm pretty cold too. We face each other, Rody with his eyes closed, and I try to relax. Soon there's a pitter patter at the top of our tent and then it downpours. I take a deep breath of the rain and try to relax fully. Rody shakes more and moves closer to me.

Gently and carefully, I lay my arm over him to tell him that I'm here and that it's gonna be okay. He relaxes a bit and starts to fall asleep. I can't take my eyes off of him, not until he's asleep, safe.

After an hour, his breathing becomes even and his face lays unmoving. I check his pulse just to make sure and relax a little. I try to fall asleep as well but end up waking every half an hour in a cold sweat to check his heart beat and breathing. Every time I check, I pray that he will live until the next time I wake.