It's Roe's birthday!! Happy birthday Roe!!
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As he entered the living room, Knives looked around for some soft surface on which to put her. His glance took in the empty room and saw the sofa, but discarded it as too narrow for his purposes. The floor was bare enough, and might work, but would be very hard. The healing process would likely take hours, and if they had to spend them on a hardwood floor the result would not be entirely pleasant. Then he noted the portals on the walls of the room, one leading to a kitchen, the other guarded by a closed door. He moved aside to let Vash pass by and open the closed door, then nodded and followed when he saw it led to a bedroom.
He paused as he entered the doorway. That… was a large bed. A very large bed. It took up nearly the entire room, barely leaving enough space around it to fit an armoire and let the bathroom door open. He scowled at the bed, knowing that it was too large for one person. Why would a single woman need such a large bed?
Kiley sighed in his arms, and he was brought to the realization that he had tightened his grip. Relaxing, he entered the room and gently set her down on the too-large bed., then crawled up beside her. He took off his shoes and shirt, then carefully slipped his arms around her torso, hands coming to rest on her shoulders, forehead resting on the back of her skull.
Vash took a bit longer to ready himself, having many more buckles to undo before he was suitably undressed. It was hard to not be impatient; he could feel how badly she was hurt and wanted to fix that right now. Only the knowledge that it would be much better for her if he waited for his brother's help forced him to keep from starting.
He heard his brother sigh, felt the bed shift under his weight as he finally moved closer. Vash rested his hand on Kiley's forehead, and then the two entered trance together to heal her.
It came as a shock to both of them how bad her injuries were. Even if one ignored the hole in her leg, she was a mass of bruises, contusions, and cracked and broken bones. Given that there were two hundred and six bones in her body, it was still easier to count the unwounded ones than those that were harmed. Every bone in her skull had sustained some damage, only two ribs weren't cracked or broken, both clavicles had been snapped near the throat, three vertebrae were seriously damaged, four more were cracked, her pelvis was fractured in two places, and one of her thighbones had a stress fracture that was threatening to break the bone in two.
And she had wanted to walk out of the plant.
The damage was equally severe to her soft organs. Her liver was torn, her spleen was punctured, there was some minor kidney damage and bruising, and her lungs were beginning to fill with fluid. The cracks in her skull created pressure on her brain, swelling the tissues and reducing blood flow to a dangerous level. And then there were the copious bruises, some deep enough to stretch from skin to bone, a couple on her legs and back wider than his hand would be, even with fingers stretched to their maximum.
It was amazing that she was still alive. The pain alone must have been excruciating.
Knives could see where she had concentrated her efforts. The swelling around the skull was not as bad as it could have been; most of the bones had at least some sort of mental support around them, holding them stationary. She was doing a fairly decent job controlling both internal and external bleeding, forcing the blood to travel in it's accustomed paths regardless of what new holes it might have been able to migrate towards.
It was a very good job of prioritizing repairs, and had she been less wounded she might have been able to heal herself without any outside help. But the sheer number of problems was overwhelming, was more than she had the energy to fight.
Knives' task was to repair the soft tissues while Vash's was to heal the bones, but before they could help, they needed to convince Kiley to let them. She had such a tight hold on her repairs that they could not get in there to aid her. Worse, she seemed reluctant to let them help, her mind drawing away from theirs as they offered release from the pain. She was drawn close around something, some old pain, and Knives slowly tried to coax the reason out of her.
She was afraid, very afraid, mind huddled around memories of the last time she had hurt this badly. She had died, had given up on living and just let go. The memories she held tight were very specific instances of pain taken, bones broken and bruises given. She shuddered away from the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, but refused to let them take over the task of healing her.
Knives sighed and snuggled closer, carefully molding his body to hers, radiating heat and love, hoping that she would take what was offered soon, unwilling to come this close and still lose her. Vash moved closer as well, hand sliding down to cradle her cheek, trying to let her know without words that she was safe here, that she could let them help her, and that everything would be alright.
With a soft sigh, she finally relaxed, her mind passing control over her healing into the willing hands that cradled her. With a sense of relief that was quickly subsumed by the daunting size of their task, the plants set to work.