ihatefreezers:

iamthefirechild:

ihatefreezers:

“Summer, you’re hurt—let me help!”

While he banged around, finding what he wanted, she busied herself washing away as much of the blood as possible. The water was a shock to already sensitised nerves, and the clench of muscles in her arm threatened to speed the bleeding again. For all that it had bled hugely, and still bled sluggishly, the wound wasn’t so very deep after all — a vicious scrape across the top of her forearm, between the two bones. A millimetre or so deep, and the same across; worse by far than any kind of paper cut or cat scratch, yet all the same nowhere near lethal.

“Not sure it can hurt much more than it already does,” she gritted, patting the area dry with a handful of paper towels. “Let me sit down and brace it across the table, at least, so I don’t twitch so much. And you need to run that needle through a candleflame first.” The idea of using her beading thread to sew up her arm would have been funny at any other time.

“That’s where you’re wrong…” he warned her, recalling the various times he’d done this to himself in the past. He was no stranger to this procedure; it often came in handy back in the days before instant healing. Isaac nodded, aiding her as she manoeuvred her arm to rest across the table. “Just try not to think about it.” That was all he could think to say. She was obviously in a lot of pain so he should get this over and done with as quickly as possible. 

Positioning himself on a stool next to the table, he leant closer, carefully threading the needle before holding the point over a candle and allowing it to heat for a moment. “Okay, here goes…” he announced nervously, placing one hand on her wrist to help hold it in place. He sunk the needle into her skin, focussing to make sure he didn’t cause any more pain than he needed to. 

She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached, pain spearing up into her scalp. It wasn’t that it hurt more, exactly, so much as the pain centred itself in the places the needle dug in.

She had to distract herself. At first her gaze settled on his face, but she forced it away, eyes catching on the window. Pack. He was pack.

The candles flared, one by one, flames rising tall and brilliant. The wax didn’t melt any faster, but around the room, other candles lit. Every flame stood straight, no matter how the air near them might stir.

And then he was done, and one by one the candles went out, leaving cold wicks. The breath went out of her in a gasp, and a tremor racked her body.

ihatefreezers:

iamthefirechild:

ihatefreezers:

“Summer, you’re hurt—let me help!”

Summer never had been able to make up her mind whether the clarity she had in an emergency was a blessing or an annoyance. Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she turned and started for the house. “Come on. You can’t stitch it up out here.”

Isaac followed behind the woman, astounded by how level headed she was considering the huge gash still bleeding down her side. Once they had reached the house he got straight to work, searching every drawer and cabinet for a needle and thread. He soon found what he needed and returned to her side. “Do you want something to bite down on?” he offered, trying to think of ways to make it less painful, “…this is going to hurt a lot.” 

While he banged around, finding what he wanted, she busied herself washing away as much of the blood as possible. The water was a shock to already sensitised nerves, and the clench of muscles in her arm threatened to speed the bleeding again. For all that it had bled hugely, and still bled sluggishly, the wound wasn’t so very deep after all — a vicious scrape across the top of her forearm, between the two bones. A millimetre or so deep, and the same across; worse by far than any kind of paper cut or cat scratch, yet all the same nowhere near lethal.

“Not sure it can hurt much more than it already does,” she gritted, patting the area dry with a handful of paper towels. “Let me sit down and brace it across the table, at least, so I don’t twitch so much. And you need to run that needle through a candleflame first.” The idea of using her beading thread to sew up her arm would have been funny at any other time.

ihatefreezers:

iamthefirechild:

ihatefreezers:

“Summer, you’re hurt—let me help!”

“How?” she started to snap, and then he was touching her, and the pain seeped away. Literally seeped, running into his skin and veins and sliding away into him, and she gaped for a second before snapping her mouth shut. 

“Are they gone?” she asked instead. She needed to put pressure on the slice to stop it bleeding, but it was too long to just compress with one hand. They had to get back home before she could do anything about it.

Isaac winced as her pain trailed up his arm. It wasn’t as bad as Summer had felt it, but taking away her agony was bound to leave him with a fraction of it. He tried to ignore the discomfort, focussing on his injured pack mate. “Yeah, I think we lost them. I don’t know what they were trying to do — but that doesn’t matter…so long as we’re both okay. I’ll stitch that up for you, if you want.” he offered, gesturing to her wound. 

“We need to get home,” she murmured. With the edge of the pain gone, she felt nauseous. Although the bloodflow was slowing, she needed to wash off the cut and see how deep it was. She put her other hand on Isaac’s shoulder and pushed herself to her feet. “Yep, shock setting in,” she said, swallowing hard.

Summer never had been able to make up her mind whether the clarity she had in an emergency was a blessing or an annoyance. Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she turned and started for the house. “Come on. You can’t stitch it up out here.”