WOW!!! I am so psyched! Thank you everyone for such positive reviews. 2
even in the first night. After having a not-so-great day, that really
improved it all. As promised, I'm bringing you Chapter number 2 now =^-^=
Again, thank you soooooo much!
Bang.
Jet fell to the ground, the hot iron embedded deep within his arm. His artificial hand grasped tightly to it, deep red blood oozing through his fingers. Faye released the grip on her gun in shock, her deep blue funk temporarily forgotten. "Oh.oh, my God.Jet.Jet, why?" Her mouth hung agape as she gawked at the damage; she didn't have the strength to force it shut. She gently pressed her delicate fingers to her lips as tears again threatened to spill over.
"Some other time," he forced out in obvious pain. "L-look.don't cry.just go get the med kit for me. Please," he added carefully.
Faye's gaze remained fixed, however, as she stared at the Bebop's manager in disbelief and horror. "What.what if he d-dies too." she mistakenly thought aloud. She unexpectedly heard the words emit audibly from her mouth and immediately turned her glance away.
A small smile formed on his lips. "Better me than you," he said in a somewhat painless tone. There was a pause as he caught his breath. "Just go," he continued in a quiet, murmured voice. "I'll.be alright."
With no further hesitation, Faye began running en route to the lobby's medical kit. Rather than the earlier swarm of depressed, negative emotions she had been experiencing, her thoughts were now turned to attempting to fully comprehend what had very recently happened. He saved me.she thought. I never thought he'd care enough.Her own words haunted her memory, as well. What.what if he d-dies too? Was it insecurity? The fear of being alone? That's it, she told herself. I couldn't bear two losses at once.
She looked curiously around, and realized she was already back at Jet's side. She lowered down onto one knee, her eyes meeting with his. "What can I do?" she asked gently.
"The tweezers. And.the stick. Gonna need those," he said in short, brief sentences.
Nodding in agreement, she took out a slender, long pair of silver tweezers and a branch that looked similar to one of Ein's chewtoys (the dog's playthings still layed about the ship with their various bite marks.)
"Hand me the stick now. I'm going to need this." She blinked at the request, an expression of question and curiosity evident on her face. "Just do it," he remarked, remembering someone with no apparent experience was under his guidance. She shrugged, and again faithfully obeyed.
"Now, for the fun part," he said in a heavily sarcastic manner. He breathed heavily before continuing, then said, "You're going to have to dig the bullet out."
Here eyes widened considerably. "WHAAAAAT?!"
He snorted. "It's not like I'm going to ENJOY being in pain. There's no choice. It'll get infected if we don't. Do you want that?"
"No.I don't want you hurting."
An uncomfortable silence set in for approximately a minute as Jet struggled for words to continue. ".Well, then, get it out," he finished bluntly. He put the stick into his mouth, and tightly shut his eyes as he waited for the suffering to begin.
Faye eyed the bloody hole in his arm. She nearly dry heaved at the sight before her. Why? She didn't know. Blood and gore had been a part of her life from the time she chose the life of a bounty hunter. She let it roll away into the back of her mind, and went back to concentrating on the problem at hand. Impulsively, she thrust the metal instrument into the laceration. The sound of wood cracking was immediately heard, as Jet struggled against a new and far worse wave of pain. Her hand beginning to shake, she attempted to move faster. Finally, digging deeply into the wound, she discovered the bullet lodged deep into the tissue of his bicep. She pulled the bloody projectile free and tossed it carelessly away on the floor. Free of the restraints of the bullet, blood vessels flooded the wound with blood, and it poured from Jet's arm. "Now what? NOW WHAT?" Faye cried frantically.
"Al.cohol." Jet forced through clenched teeth.
"Which kind?"
"BOTH!"
She pulled the rubbing alcohol from the kit as fast as she could and shakily removed the lid. She tipped it over onto the wound, drenching it in the liquid.
"N-now.go get some water t-to flush it out," he stammered, still in anguish from the amateur surgery. "And I BEG YOU, GET THE OTHER ALCHOHOL!"
As fast as her feet would carry her, Faye ran to the kitchen and flung open the fridge door as a small bucket filled with water. Only half of a tequila bottle remained within, as money had again been short recently. She grabbed it out anyway, making sure to fill the request. As she ran past it, she pulled the almost-filled bucket from the sink and returned to the mess.
Jet's eyes immediately landed on the bottle. "Gimme that, and flush the wound. After that, just put on lots of gauze and wrap it skintight. That should do it for now. I'll dress it better later."
She carefully followed each step with unsteady, nervous hands. When it was all over, she was exhausted and Jet was somewhat intoxicated-a rather pleasing combination for the time being.
"Could you.help me to the couch..?" he said in a somewhat slurred voice. Faye helped him up, to lean on her shoulder, and they began the strenuous walk to the lobby.
In the back of his mind, past the pain, Jet began going over his day, wondering how he had gotten in this predicament. It had been perfectly normal.limping around, keeping busy. He had gone to shine up the bay.and things had digressed from there. Faye was about to kill herself after the recent loss of Spike. His heart had ached for her, and he had forced his arm in the way as she pulled the trigger.
Ached. Worse than his arm.
Suddenly, things went black.
Wow, as I was typing, I got ANOTHER review! Thank you soooo much! So, hence ends another chapter.maybe not what ya all had expected? The more reviews, the faster my inspiration comes.actually, I haven't even written the rough draft for the 3rd chapter yet! ^^;;; Don't worry about it though, I have a whole week of school to sit in the back of class to write and not pay attention. Gotta love how the high school teachers don't put you on seating charts anymore. Until then, minna-san!
Bang.
Jet fell to the ground, the hot iron embedded deep within his arm. His artificial hand grasped tightly to it, deep red blood oozing through his fingers. Faye released the grip on her gun in shock, her deep blue funk temporarily forgotten. "Oh.oh, my God.Jet.Jet, why?" Her mouth hung agape as she gawked at the damage; she didn't have the strength to force it shut. She gently pressed her delicate fingers to her lips as tears again threatened to spill over.
"Some other time," he forced out in obvious pain. "L-look.don't cry.just go get the med kit for me. Please," he added carefully.
Faye's gaze remained fixed, however, as she stared at the Bebop's manager in disbelief and horror. "What.what if he d-dies too." she mistakenly thought aloud. She unexpectedly heard the words emit audibly from her mouth and immediately turned her glance away.
A small smile formed on his lips. "Better me than you," he said in a somewhat painless tone. There was a pause as he caught his breath. "Just go," he continued in a quiet, murmured voice. "I'll.be alright."
With no further hesitation, Faye began running en route to the lobby's medical kit. Rather than the earlier swarm of depressed, negative emotions she had been experiencing, her thoughts were now turned to attempting to fully comprehend what had very recently happened. He saved me.she thought. I never thought he'd care enough.Her own words haunted her memory, as well. What.what if he d-dies too? Was it insecurity? The fear of being alone? That's it, she told herself. I couldn't bear two losses at once.
She looked curiously around, and realized she was already back at Jet's side. She lowered down onto one knee, her eyes meeting with his. "What can I do?" she asked gently.
"The tweezers. And.the stick. Gonna need those," he said in short, brief sentences.
Nodding in agreement, she took out a slender, long pair of silver tweezers and a branch that looked similar to one of Ein's chewtoys (the dog's playthings still layed about the ship with their various bite marks.)
"Hand me the stick now. I'm going to need this." She blinked at the request, an expression of question and curiosity evident on her face. "Just do it," he remarked, remembering someone with no apparent experience was under his guidance. She shrugged, and again faithfully obeyed.
"Now, for the fun part," he said in a heavily sarcastic manner. He breathed heavily before continuing, then said, "You're going to have to dig the bullet out."
Here eyes widened considerably. "WHAAAAAT?!"
He snorted. "It's not like I'm going to ENJOY being in pain. There's no choice. It'll get infected if we don't. Do you want that?"
"No.I don't want you hurting."
An uncomfortable silence set in for approximately a minute as Jet struggled for words to continue. ".Well, then, get it out," he finished bluntly. He put the stick into his mouth, and tightly shut his eyes as he waited for the suffering to begin.
Faye eyed the bloody hole in his arm. She nearly dry heaved at the sight before her. Why? She didn't know. Blood and gore had been a part of her life from the time she chose the life of a bounty hunter. She let it roll away into the back of her mind, and went back to concentrating on the problem at hand. Impulsively, she thrust the metal instrument into the laceration. The sound of wood cracking was immediately heard, as Jet struggled against a new and far worse wave of pain. Her hand beginning to shake, she attempted to move faster. Finally, digging deeply into the wound, she discovered the bullet lodged deep into the tissue of his bicep. She pulled the bloody projectile free and tossed it carelessly away on the floor. Free of the restraints of the bullet, blood vessels flooded the wound with blood, and it poured from Jet's arm. "Now what? NOW WHAT?" Faye cried frantically.
"Al.cohol." Jet forced through clenched teeth.
"Which kind?"
"BOTH!"
She pulled the rubbing alcohol from the kit as fast as she could and shakily removed the lid. She tipped it over onto the wound, drenching it in the liquid.
"N-now.go get some water t-to flush it out," he stammered, still in anguish from the amateur surgery. "And I BEG YOU, GET THE OTHER ALCHOHOL!"
As fast as her feet would carry her, Faye ran to the kitchen and flung open the fridge door as a small bucket filled with water. Only half of a tequila bottle remained within, as money had again been short recently. She grabbed it out anyway, making sure to fill the request. As she ran past it, she pulled the almost-filled bucket from the sink and returned to the mess.
Jet's eyes immediately landed on the bottle. "Gimme that, and flush the wound. After that, just put on lots of gauze and wrap it skintight. That should do it for now. I'll dress it better later."
She carefully followed each step with unsteady, nervous hands. When it was all over, she was exhausted and Jet was somewhat intoxicated-a rather pleasing combination for the time being.
"Could you.help me to the couch..?" he said in a somewhat slurred voice. Faye helped him up, to lean on her shoulder, and they began the strenuous walk to the lobby.
In the back of his mind, past the pain, Jet began going over his day, wondering how he had gotten in this predicament. It had been perfectly normal.limping around, keeping busy. He had gone to shine up the bay.and things had digressed from there. Faye was about to kill herself after the recent loss of Spike. His heart had ached for her, and he had forced his arm in the way as she pulled the trigger.
Ached. Worse than his arm.
Suddenly, things went black.
Wow, as I was typing, I got ANOTHER review! Thank you soooo much! So, hence ends another chapter.maybe not what ya all had expected? The more reviews, the faster my inspiration comes.actually, I haven't even written the rough draft for the 3rd chapter yet! ^^;;; Don't worry about it though, I have a whole week of school to sit in the back of class to write and not pay attention. Gotta love how the high school teachers don't put you on seating charts anymore. Until then, minna-san!