I went for the laundry room. I know that probably sounds crazy, but hear me out: Very few linens were kept in the clinic, and we were going to need blankets. The ruckus of my tearing down the hall was enough to alert anyone in the Compound's front rooms that something was wrong, but beyond that, I knew exactly what was needed and where to find it. Even now, I can't believe that I didn't fall and break my neck on those stairs, but it took me maybe thirty seconds, all told
( ... )
Mace nods at everything Lexie says, and he doesn't care where or how she does it. The fact that he's been found and taken care of at all is a miracle in itself; everything else falls by the wayside.
"Only one suit," he explains. "Gave it Capa, and I had insulation wrapped around me. Only ten seconds." He lifted his damaged hand for a moment, and the cut fabric of his shirt fell away. "Still did this."
"Which I'm going to take care of when I get back, too," Lexie adds, and it's not a lie, but it makes her stomach twist anyway. With a thumb that looks like that, there's only so much that can be done at all, and she does not look forward to telling him what likely has to be done. Drawing in a deep breath, she pulls herself to her feet, saying, "I'll just be a minute."
It's less than that to get to the clinic and back again, bringing a first aid kit and suture tools with her. Whether inside or outside, this part will be the same, and while none of this situation is anywhere close to ideal, it's something she knows well enough to be almost grateful for this one simpler aspect. The rest is going to be worse. When she crouches at his side again, then sits, figuring she'll be better balanced, it's with a thin smile, small but reassuring. "It's a good thing we're so close," she says, though it's half to herself. "Alright. I know nothing's got to feel very good right now, but what can you tell me about the kind of pain your leg's in?"
What he was describing, scant though the details were, I absolutely could not imagine. The absolute insanity of it, of being out in space all but completely unprotected, even for only ten seconds-Even with everything I'd been through, it was beyond me
( ... )
"Dull ache," he answers Lexie, unsure which injuries are causing which waves of pain, only knowing that a large portion of it is coming from his leg, beneath the constant chills. "Sharp pains every couple of seconds. Like I got crushed by a machine," he adds, managing to put enough bite in it to pass for sarcasm.
With his freezing clothes cut away, Mace sighs and clutches the new blanket Shari wraps around him.
Swallowing, Lexie nods. "With sharp pain like that -- plus the weight of what fell -- there's a good chance you'll have sustained a fracture," she tells him, feeling gingerly along the bone, though with a hairline, she remembers, it isn't always obvious. "But before I can do anything for it, I need to get this cut cleaned and stitched up." At least it's one thing she's had a lot of practice with, she thinks, as she begins using the supplies she brought to disinfect the wound. Fruit isn't nearly the same as a leg, but sutures are still like second nature; it wouldn't do for any of them to let the basics slip in their frequent idleness.
Settling back on my heels, I took Mace's right hand back into both of my own and resumed rubbing vigorously first at his palm and then up to his elbow. "Can you move your fingers at all?" I asked, peering through the hair that had fallen across my eyes. "I know it hurts, but it might help your circulation if you can move them even a little bit. Like this." I held out a hand palm up, splayed my fingers out, curled them back in and then repeated the motion.
"Just a fracture." Mace accepts the diagnosis without surprise, somewhat relieved that he's only suffered a break of some kind. Broken bones heal, and he's had his fair share in the past. But the relief only leaves more room to dwell on how cold he still is and what his hand looks like.
He winces when Shari rubs his hand, stares at her tanned fingers against his pale skin and tries to think back to the last time he had someone touch him with such purpose. With a little concentration he manages to curl them slightly, but immediately relaxes his hand when it proves to be more painful than he thought.
It isn't quite the reaction Lexie is expecting, but she is, admittedly, grateful for it. When there's so much else to be worried about (and she really, really isn't looking forward to having to deal with his thumb, the state of his hand in general), that he can seem to take this one thing in stride is promising, at least comparatively speaking. She's dealt with patients freaking out before, she knows she can handle it, but she'd still prefer not to, for all of their sakes.
"Just a fracture," she repeats, "probably a hairline." It could be worse, it could be worse. All of this could be. That doesn't mean it's good. The cut on his leg cleaned and ready, she takes a breath, threading the needle for the sutures, then beginning the first. "And this part won't take long."
The sheer level of effort it required for Mace to move his hand even that little bit was alarming, but I forced an encouraging smile anyway. "That was good," I said, and briefly laid my hand gently across his fingers, trying to be reassuring without causing him more pain.
"I know this probably isn't very comforting right about now, but it's good if it hurts," I added as I moved to pull the blankets more securely around him. "That's right, isn't it?" I asked, casting a glance to Lexie.
"Not that comforting," Mace agrees, and it's all he can say, surprisingly tired out from the simple act of curling his fingers. He can barely tell when Lexie starts suturing his leg; it's just another sting of pain to join the rest of it.
"It's good," Lexie confirms with a nod, tone slightly absent. Her attention is too fully on the sutures for her to look up, tongue darting out against her lower lip in concentration. "Not - not ideal, obviously, but if it hurts, it means you haven't lost feeling, and that's - that's good."
Obviously I wasn't any kind of doctor, but it looked to me like Mace wasn't going to be conscious for that much longer. The sheer exhaustion on his face was a little worrying but entirely understandable; it was probably incredible that he'd stayed awake as long as he had.
"Mace," I said, settling in front of him as I continued to gently massage his arms and shoulders. "Tell me something about yourself. What's your favorite color? Your favorite food?"
Mace closes his eyes, seeing deep red from the light filtering in instead of black, and that is enough for him to want to stay. Maybe he should be thinking of getting back to Icarus II, but as far as he's concerned, he's given his all for the mission. He'd have died if he hadn't shown up here, and there's nothing else he can do.
Shari's voice filters through his thoughts, and he frowns. "Light blue," he says, thinking of images of a sky he's only ever seen in the Earth room. "And...I don't know. Chicken."
"Chicken's good," Lexie offers, for the sake of a continued something resembling conversation more than anything else, using a small pair of scissors to snip the thread off the last of the stitches. They'll have to splint the leg, she thinks, but even as she covers the line of sutures with a bandage, that isn't her chief concern. Her mind is more on the frostbitten hand, the blackened thumb, potential diagnoses and if it will spread and if there will be any way for him to keep it. "We don't always have a whole lot of it to eat around here, but when we do, it's so great. The people who do the cooking really know what they're doing. And if you like baked goods, Shari here is definitely the right person to know."
"When you've made a full recovery, I'll make you any kind of cake you want to celebrate," I promised, and allowed myself to cast a worried glance Lexie's way since Mace wasn't paying attention. He seemed like he was fading fast, and we'd need help to get him moved inside. "It can even have light blue icing, if you want."
Reply
"Only one suit," he explains. "Gave it Capa, and I had insulation wrapped around me. Only ten seconds." He lifted his damaged hand for a moment, and the cut fabric of his shirt fell away. "Still did this."
Reply
It's less than that to get to the clinic and back again, bringing a first aid kit and suture tools with her. Whether inside or outside, this part will be the same, and while none of this situation is anywhere close to ideal, it's something she knows well enough to be almost grateful for this one simpler aspect. The rest is going to be worse. When she crouches at his side again, then sits, figuring she'll be better balanced, it's with a thin smile, small but reassuring. "It's a good thing we're so close," she says, though it's half to herself. "Alright. I know nothing's got to feel very good right now, but what can you tell me about the kind of pain your leg's in?"
Reply
Reply
With his freezing clothes cut away, Mace sighs and clutches the new blanket Shari wraps around him.
Reply
Reply
Reply
He winces when Shari rubs his hand, stares at her tanned fingers against his pale skin and tries to think back to the last time he had someone touch him with such purpose. With a little concentration he manages to curl them slightly, but immediately relaxes his hand when it proves to be more painful than he thought.
Reply
"Just a fracture," she repeats, "probably a hairline." It could be worse, it could be worse. All of this could be. That doesn't mean it's good. The cut on his leg cleaned and ready, she takes a breath, threading the needle for the sutures, then beginning the first. "And this part won't take long."
Reply
"I know this probably isn't very comforting right about now, but it's good if it hurts," I added as I moved to pull the blankets more securely around him. "That's right, isn't it?" I asked, casting a glance to Lexie.
Reply
Reply
Reply
"Mace," I said, settling in front of him as I continued to gently massage his arms and shoulders. "Tell me something about yourself. What's your favorite color? Your favorite food?"
Reply
Shari's voice filters through his thoughts, and he frowns. "Light blue," he says, thinking of images of a sky he's only ever seen in the Earth room. "And...I don't know. Chicken."
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment