Blue Monday

Chapter 17 - Trapdoor

***GIDEON***

The Snow twins may be tall, strong dudes, but even they have limits. Helping carry Steve through the tunnels really starts to wear them down by the time we finally reach our destination - the same basement room under the library where I woke up after being brought to the Second Universe. By this point, I've taken over from Gabe, supporting Steve's left arm - and getting his blood on me, but I'm past caring about that.

That old James Bond type, Thompson or whatever his name is, is already waiting for us. "Put him on the table," he says, stepping out of the way while Alex and I lay Steve on his back. "And get that jacket off of him. We need to remove the bullet as soon as possible, if it's still inside him."

"What if it's not inside me?" Steve asks.

"That would be the better option," says Thompson. "It would mean the bullet wasn't in your body long enough to poison you."

Steve undoes the buttons of his jacket with one hand, and I take it and lay it aside. Everyone is pitching in somehow - Fionna and Kyle are standing guard on the doors at either end of the room, while Annie and Russell are raiding the nearby supply closet.

Before removing his shirt, Steve takes off his glasses. "Really?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. "You're possibly dying, and you're gonna make sure you don't break your spex?"

"Force of habit," Steve says with a weak laugh. He groans in pain as he takes his shirt off and hands it to me.

I turn around to leave the shirt with his jacket. Before I put it down, though, I notice the hole left behind by the bullet. I turn the shirt around, expecting and hoping to see a second hole. There isn't one.

Oh shit, I think, knowing what this means. "The bullet's still in him," I breathe. "It's still inside you, Steve," I say in a louder voice.

"How can you tell?" asks Thompson.

"You gonna ask to know how I know, or are you gonna take the bullet out?" I ask.

Thompson puts his hand over his mouth for a second. "Mr. Walker, I'll need you to turn over," he says. "Let me see the exit wound."

Steve complies, gritting his teeth and letting out small hissing noises. "You're right," Thompson says when he sees Steve's unblemished shoulder and wing. "There's no exit wound." He mumbles something under his breath - it sounds like the F-bomb, and maybe something worse, but at that low decibel level, I can't even figure out how to break it down into discernible words.

Steve puts his glasses on. "Fuck," he groans, much more clearly than Thompson did. "All right. Who's gonna cauterize the wound? Don't make me do it myself. That's not gonna be fun." He laughs, but nobody else does.

"It will take more than just cauterizing the wound," Thompson says. "First, we'll need to extract the bullet. Then we'll need to purge the dark energy from your system." He raises his hand and lets a little light shine from his palm. "Mr. Prado, you might need to assist me on that front."

"And you're gonna take the bullet out of me?" Steve asks, his eyes half-closed from the pain.

"Trust me," Thompson says. "I am a doctor, after all."

"Medical or philosophical?" Alex asks.

Even Thompson cracks a smile at that joke. "Does it matter? What matters is that I know how to remove a bullet." He turns to Russell and Annie. "Troiraz, Troianni, get me the forceps and a pair of rubber gloves."

"There's some whiskey in here too," Russell says, pulling out an unmarked plastic bottle full of dark brown liquid. He unscrews the bottle's spray top and sniffs its contents for a second before pulling his head away, a disgusted look on his face. "Or something just as strong. You wanna use it to sterilize the wound, Doc?"