Chapter 3: If It Means A Lot To You

Hershel, Patricia, and Torrey all lifted the boy from the bed onto the metal table gently, keeping the blanket underneath him to catch any spilled blood.

Hershel splashed a scalpel with rubbing alcohol to sterilize it, then lifted his eyes to Torrey's. "Whatever way you have to numb him, do it now."

Torrey leaned over the boy, placing her palms lightly over the gauze bandage still attached to his side. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she deadened the nerve endings in the boy's side. The boy stayed asleep throughout the whole thing, as he no doubt would for the rest of the procedure, but just to be sure she touched his forehead lightly with one finger, placing a sleeping spell on him for the duration of the operation. "You can cut into his side now. He won't feel a thing, and he won't wake up until long after you finish."

Hershel nodded and deftly slid the blade of the scalpel through the boy's skin, the blood gushing out of the kid's body like a waterfall. Torrey traced her finger over the edge of the scalpel's cut, and the blood immediately stopped flowing, as if it had never started in the first place. Hershel had to remind himself to focus on the task at hand, the things happening in his house were so incredible.

Torrey was already feeling somewhat winded; it had been quite a while since she'd used so much of her power at one time, and in several different ways at once, but she was determined to help this child.

Hershel cut around the bullet hole, just enough to open the kid's side up to get the remaining pieces out. It only took him a few minutes to get the fragments out of the child's body and into a small, water-filled bowl that Patricia had placed beside him.

"I have to cut a little deeper now to find the severed blood vessel and patch it up. Can you keep his blood flow under control for a little while longer?" Hershel looked almost worried as he took in the sweat forming on Torrey's brow.

Torrey simply nodded, feeling too out of breath to speak, and passed her palm over the entry wound Hershel had made; she didn't care that blood was now all over her hand, as long as it stayed inside this kid's body her thirst could remain sated. However, she did quickly a few droplets from her palm when the others weren't looking; it gave her just enough energy to stay on her feet.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Hershel was stitching the boy's side back together and taping a fresh gauze bandage over the wound. Hershel laid his tools aside, and smiled up at the redheaded stranger who had, in fact, performed a miracle.

"I don't know how you did all of that, but thank you for it, regardless." Hershel squeezed the girl's shoulder, his smile genuine and friendly.

Torrey managed to give him a slight smile in return. "Always happy to help keep someone alive, especially a child."

"Come on, hun, let's go break the news to the parents." Patricia grinned and wrapped an arm around Torrey's waist to keep her steady as she hobbled to the door.

As soon as Torrey had shuffled her way into the front room, Monica rushed to her side, her arm replacing Patricia's around the redhead's waist. "You look like hell, girl. Though, that's probably pretty good, considering hell's where you came from." Monica smirked as Torrey rolled her eyes at the lame joke.

Lori leapt off her chair, darting for Torrey. "Is he alright? Were you able to help him?" Her eyes flickered between Hershel and Torrey, awaiting answers.

Torrey nodded and took Lori's hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Your son's fine. It was a quick and easy procedure. He should wake up sometime in the middle of the night, or tomorrow; I had to put a sleeping spell on him, just in case. When he starts saying he's in pain, let me know; I can take care of that, too." Torrey answered the brunette woman's questions as fast as she could; she was going to fade any minute now, and she'd prefer to be in a bed before that happened, so that no one would have to carry her up the stairs; that would be rude, considering she was in someone else's house.

Lori, her eyes watering, wrapped Torrey in a tight embrace. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Torrey's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she patted Lori's back all the same. "Don't thank me. Hershel performed the operation. He had the harder job." Torrey laughed lightly to herself, her head starting to feel way too fuzzy to be anything but bad news.

Monica shook her friend's shoulder, and hurriedly pulled her to the stairs. "Come on, girl, just gotta get up these steps, and then you can collapse. Don't die on me now."

Torrey was stumbling now, tripping over the flat surface she was trying to walk on, and then she felt like she was floating. Before the blackness closed over her for good, she heard Monica huff "you piece of shit" from somewhere far away.