An Uneasy Accord

Chapter 23 - Aftermath

"I should never have left you alone."

"It's okay," Brooklyn winced deeply as the cool soft cloth dabbed across the various gashes. "Please don't blame yourself Derek."

"Doesn't matter Brooklyn. They were waiting for you, knowing I wasn't there."

He couldn't see the depressive expression that dampened her face. But he could sense the pain, fear, and hatred raging through the hunter's being. His own rage towards the hunters had been growing steadily like the rain that pelted the window. Brooklyn was on her stomach with back exposed for him to see. An attack on a pack member was an attack on him.

"They're assholes okay? They've been gunning for me for a long time now."

"Doesn't give them the right to beat you in such a savage manner."

"I know," she yelped as he slowly swept over the largest and deepest wound. Derek froze and lifted the offensive cloth up and off her skin.

"I'm sorry," he felt guilt over increasing her suffering.

"Stop apologizing for what they did," she hissed. "When I get better I am going to hunt each one of those bastards down….."

"You're in no condition to be going anywhere," she felt Derek enclose his hand around hers.

"How bad are they?"

Derek paused to assess the damage the hunters had done. Once he had cleared away the blood and cleansed the wounds, a few were not too deep and would heal on their own but the one that trailed parallel to her spine exposed the bright cherry muscle.

"You know what needs to be done," she nodded and closed her eyes. "I trust you."

Derek gritted his teeth but snatched the bag from the dresser. The other stitches from Argent's first assault had long since fallen out and the injury was healing very nicely.

He started out cleaning the area with the last bottle of saline solution she held in her bag. Brooklyn grimaced at the cool sterile liquid irrigating the torn tissue. Derek stopped and patted the area with a clean dry towel. He had little to no experience in anything above basic first aid but Brooklyn was there to talk him through it.

"Okay," she exhaled, "Get the packet that has the purple lettering on it."

Derek quickly plucked it out.

"Now take the clamps out and sterilize them with my lighter."

Derek quickly did it.

"Now open the left of the packet and use the clamps to hold the needle."

"Okay," she heard the wavering in his tone but said nothing.

"Now you saw how I stitched my side up and I need you to do that with the muscle."

Her voice was eerily calm as she walked Derek through everything. The hunter took slow deep breaths, keeping in line with the tiny sharp sticks of the needle. Derek was careful, uncertain almost, as his larger fingers went agonizingly slow. Her heart rate remained steady but on the high end as he tied off the end and snipped the suture.

"Still breathing," her attempt at humor fell flat as Derek's face was dark and angry.

"Okay then," she pointed at her bag, "The packet with black lettering is what you'll need next."

Derek quickly cleaned and sterilized the tools with the Zippo then proceeded to close up the wound. The hotel room wasn't exactly the most sterile environment to do such a procedure but taking her to the hospital meant seeing the doctor who would call Sheriff Stalinski which would lead to a whole new set of headaches for them both. He did his best to keep the two sides even and smooth but a scar would be left to remind the hunter of her trauma.