Shadows.
They were many and they were varied. Like clouds that traversed the sky. An array of shapes and sizes and intensities.
Once he had thought them dangerous. An unknown entity to stay away from.
And now he knew the truth.
That it was a shadow that had kept him safe.
...
"You're awake." His voice sounded so strange, weak and frail, like someone had scraped out his throat and left it raw and bleeding.
Or his heart. It definitely felt like someone had ripped the still beating heart from his chest and destroyed it before shoving it back inside and sewing up the gaping cavity that had been left behind.
"I heard my light crying out for me." Had he been crying? He couldn't remember anymore. The tears had fallen whenever they wanted to. There was so rhyme or reason to his sadness.
"I missed you." That answering voice was rough, scratchy and full of gravel from disuse. But it sunk into his entire being and lifted the heavy darkness away.
"I've been here the whole time." Yet they both knew that wasn't true. That he had been floating somewhere else, far away from this realm they currently existed in. Falling between life and death and not entirely sure which way he wanted the needle to land.
"I -" It was difficult, trying to keep his emotions inside. To stop the tears from falling when for so long they had come when they wanted. "I need to get your medicine."
"What medicine?" But he was already moving away, pushing himself to get up and move into the kitchen.
"Antibiotics." Should he still crush them? The pills that were meant to be given at the moment were on the larger side. But he knew it wasn't the proper way for it to be given. Could have side effects that he didn't want. So he simply held it in his palm, along with the pain medication. Grabbed a bottle of water and the supplies he needed and came back.
"For what?" Lowering himself onto the ground, he held up mouth pills, as if waiting for the other to willingly open his mouth and accept them.
"The wound is infected."
"It's what?"
"Infected." Terribly. Horribly. And he decided that perhaps it was best to simply show the process of what had been done so the other would understand. Pulling up the still ruined shirt, he carefully began to peel away the layers of gauze and tape, sighing as the way it left the skin pink and puffy in it's wake. He had tried to keep it moisturized, but it hadn't done much good. Had started making the dressing a bit bigger, or at least the tape wasn't always in the same places.
The wound below looked better than the day before. A little less pus leaking from the drain that had been made. A little less crust on the remaining stitches. And as he stood back up to go get a warm cloth, he silently thanked whoever was watching over them that he had done it. That he had actually managed to get them over that hill. Now all he had to do was safely traverse them down the other side.
"So, I'm not really sure what got you. But the edges were pretty clean. My guess is the blade wasn't properly taken care of." That and his emergency care had been lacking. Who knows what had been on their hands before he had been able to clean the wound? And water, no matter how long it had been sitting in the sun, was not a proper disinfectant.
"Switch blade." There was pain apparent in that voice now, and he tried to be as gentle as he could. Wiped away the infection and cleaned the site and was happy to see the redness had begun to dissipate. There were marks where he had measured the growth, and it had receded away from the last. There was still heat radiating in waves, but it wasn't as intense. "Couldn't get out of the way in time."
