Crumbled

Answers

As soon as the group got to their next rendezvous point, Markel was rushed inside by Axel and James. When they reached the medical room, James made Axel wait outside with the others. Then he turned his attention to Markel.

       Markel groaned, hands wrapped protectively around her stomach, eyes squeezed shut. James dabbed away the alcohol, straightening up.

       "Markel, I can't clean any of the wounds if you can't keep your hands away from them," James pleaded, his forehead creasing with concern. Markel gritted her teeth, and slid her hands back to her side.

       "James, I-I saw you put that note on Falle—," Markel's sentence was cut off when she yelped, a tear squeezing out of her eye. James eased the cotton ball away from the deepest cut, swiping it deftly over a different wound.

       "I saw you put that note on Fallemer's table. What was that about?" Markel said, glancing over to James. James sighed, grabbing a roll of gauze from a box and unwinding some.

       "I wanted him to know that we left of our own volition, not because we were captured." James explained, leaning towards Markel.

       "Markel, would you please remove your shirt?" James said. His eyes widened, realizing the connotations of what he had just said. James reddened.
       "I-I need to dress the wounds, not because of that," he stammered.

       Markel chuckled, shifting around so that James could work, and slipped her shirt over her head.

       "Look, James, we're friends. I need you to tell me something, alright? And be straight with me, you reckon?" Markel asked.

       "Sure, as long as you keep it light. There's kids all around," James joked, smiling. Markel huffed a long breath, before forcing the words out.

      "Do you think I'm going to die, James?" She asked quickly. James hummed quietly, ignoring her question.

       "Doc, c'mon, answer me!" Markel pleaded, twisting around. James closed his eyes.

       "Take your shirt, Markel, I 'be by other people to take care of," James drawled, eyes glued to the floor.

       "Well, I guess that answers my question," she said, slinking off the table.

       "I don't know, Markel. These are wounds unlike those I've ever seen. If you want to know what will happen to you, ask my brother." Markel paused in the doorway.

        "If I die, tell Axel I'm sorry. Also, tell Savant that she can have my weapons. But not the knuckles."

       "Tell her yourself, she'll come back soon enough," James replied. Markel shut the door.

A/N: Wow! To the 3 people who read this thing, sorry it's been a couple of weeks, I got busy! Also, Hi Julia and Jillian!