“After I’m done.” Only so much can be done at any time, after all, and the sooner they get to his wounds the better. By now, the numbing agent has to have taken effect, so Chikusa takes a breath and starts to slice through damaged skin. So much care has to be taken around the joints, where the separation from skin and bone is so thin, and he’s almost not sure how he manages to go through with it so calmly. Because…
He’s still scared. Still terrified of what he’ll find, of discovering just how much Ken has been hurt.
There’s nothing but silence from him as he works, fighting back the terror by keeping his hands moving. What if he can’t even move his legs again- Slice, clean and simple, done a dozen times before. What if we need a surgeon- Pin the skin back, keep it out of the way, and he takes a deep breath as he goes to inspect the bone…
Fractured. Of course. But, as he stares at it, delicately inspecting the injury… It’s not displaced. His brain stutter-stops for a moment before he’s racing to think of the implications. That means no surgery, he thinks, which means all he has to do is stitch the skin back and keep the leg straight in a splint, or a cast, he’s done splints in the past-
There’s a strange feeling in his eyes, a kind of tug, but Chikusa is so detached from it, so unfamiliar with it, that he doesn’t even realize he’s started to cry as he quickly starts to stitch Ken back up. “I can fix this,” he rasps, so focused on his work that he’s oblivious to his voice’s own roughness or the tears slowly sliding down his cheeks.
no subject
He’s still scared. Still terrified of what he’ll find, of discovering just how much Ken has been hurt.
There’s nothing but silence from him as he works, fighting back the terror by keeping his hands moving. What if he can’t even move his legs again- Slice, clean and simple, done a dozen times before. What if we need a surgeon- Pin the skin back, keep it out of the way, and he takes a deep breath as he goes to inspect the bone…
Fractured. Of course. But, as he stares at it, delicately inspecting the injury… It’s not displaced. His brain stutter-stops for a moment before he’s racing to think of the implications. That means no surgery, he thinks, which means all he has to do is stitch the skin back and keep the leg straight in a splint, or a cast, he’s done splints in the past-
There’s a strange feeling in his eyes, a kind of tug, but Chikusa is so detached from it, so unfamiliar with it, that he doesn’t even realize he’s started to cry as he quickly starts to stitch Ken back up. “I can fix this,” he rasps, so focused on his work that he’s oblivious to his voice’s own roughness or the tears slowly sliding down his cheeks.