Part 11
Warnings: see previous warnings
Gene looked at the collapsed businessman in front of his door. "Damn merchants." Gene cursed, and bent down to cradle Fred in his arms. Gene carried Fred in, and sat him in a chair.
Leaving Fred momentarily unattended Gene left to make a pot of coffee. With the current state of Gene's head he would need it.
Letting the coffee brew Gene decided to look at Fred's wound. Gene striped Fred of his jacket and shirt, and was thankful Fred did not wake up. Then Gene knelled at Fred's side to inspect the wound. Luckily it was not as bad a Gene had thought. Then wound had clotted for the most part, and the bullet had stopped when it hit bone. It was nothing Gene could not take care of.
Sighing Gene got up to get a first aid kit, and a half-empty bottle of cheep wine. After setting them on the coffee table, Gene opened the kit and pulled out some basic surgical tools. Gene went back to the kitchen and put the tools and the water on to boil.
Then Gene turned to a lifesaver, coffee. Gene's head was pounding and he wondered if he had drunk too much the night before. It would not have been the first time, nor would it be the last. It really did not matter to Gene though, because the coffee helped ease the pain and clear his head.
Gene finished the cup and poured another. Then he brought the cup and a bowl of warm with a washcloth in to the living room. Gene set the cup on the table next to the first aid kit, and then pulled a chair up next to Fred. Using the washcloth and water Gene then cleaned up Fred's wounded shoulder. Every so often Gene would rinse out the washcloth in the water. It did not take very long for the water to turn red.
After a few minutes Fred's eyes fluttered open with a pained moan. Fred slowly awoke, and tried to recover his baring in the unfamiliar room. "Hi Fred." Gene said and sat the bowl of water and blood on the table.
Slightly disoriented Fred asked, "What happened?"
Gene picked up his coffee and recapped. "You woke me up at the ungodly hour of noon. I told you "You've been shot." And then you fainted."
Fred sheepishly tugged his ear. "I was never very good around blood."
Gene grunted and finished his coffee. "If you want I can take the bullet out." Gene offered.
"O-Okay." Fred answered.
Gene nodded and went back to the kitchen caring his cup and the bloody water. A minute later he returned with the newly sterilized tools on a clean towel.
"Here." Gene said, offering the cheep wine. "It's easier if you drink this." Fred took the offered bottle, and after realizing he would not be offered a glass he drank a swallow of the wine. Gen laughed lightly at Fred's disgusted face. "I bought the wine to get drunk off of, not to taste.' Gene informed Fred.
"It's still disgusting.' Fred said.
"Would you prefer some expensive wine to dull your senses before I take the bullet out?" Gene teased.
Fred opened his mouth to answer, and then shut it.
Gene gave a cocky grin. "Seriously you might want to get at least tipsy before I start." Gene warned.
Fred stuck his nose up at the bottle. "I'll pass."
"Suit yourself." Gene replied. Gene then began the process of removing the bullet.
"Ow, Gene!"
"I haven't even started!"
"Sit still!"
"But Gene!"
"Quite whining!"
"Is there supposed to be so much blood?"
"Damn it! Turn your head if you're going to be sick."
"Quite crying, don't be such a baby."
"But Geeene it hurts!"
"There all done." Gene said presenting the bullet to Fred.
"That wasn't so bad." Fred said.
Gene growled and resisted the urge to throw the bullet at Fred's face. Instead Gene cleaned Fred's wound with rubbing alcohol.
Fred winced at the sting, but didn't complain. After all Gene was tending to Fred's wounds, and Fred even had whined a little more than necessary when Gene removed the bullet for the attention. Despite the pain Fred felt giddy with Gene helping him.
When Gene started wrapping up Fred's arm, Fred said. "I didn't know you knew first aid,"
"I don't really." Gene said. "I only know how to bandage things up and some basic field surgery. It's kind of necessary with the amount of knife and bullet wounds we get, and hospitals ask too many questions."
Fred nodded in understanding, as his infatuation for Gene grew from knowing another hidden talent of Gene's.
Gene frowned and added. "Jim knows a lot more about this stuff, and is better at it." Gene put his head in his hand.
"Are you okay, Gene" Fred asked with genuine concern.
"Yeah." Gene answered. "It's just that you never realize how important someone is until they are gone."
It was now Fred's turn to frown. "Your right Gene, you don't." Fred thought of his bodyguard who more than likely lay in a dead heap on his office floor. "Gene I know this is a bad time, but I need to ask you a favor."
"What is it Fred?" Gene sighed.
"I really need a bodyguard right now. Someone I know I can trust." Fred said.
"Not now Fred. Things are way too screwed up. Any way don't you have that weird guy?" Gene asked.
"No." Fred answered. "Even if he survived he is no condition to work." Fred gazed at his feet, and fought the creeping depression. Fred hoped his guard was still alive, but the chances that he was, was slim to nil. After so many years together the thought hurt.
Gene felt a pang of pity at the sight of a sad Fred. "I'll help." Gene said.
"Thanks." Fred only gave a half smile.
*_*_*_
"YOU WHAT!" Ron screamed.
"I'm sorry, Ron. His bodyguard was more trouble than I expected." Harry apologized.
"No excuse. You were playing around instead of doing the job." Ron yelled.
"It's not that big of a deal, Ron. I'll go back and take care of it." Harry suggested.
"No it is obvious that I can't trust you with something as simple as assassination. I'm not even sure that I can trust you with the errand I wanted to." Ron said controlling his boiling rage down to a simmer.
"Oh come on Ron," Harry began, as he walked within a foot of Ron. "It was a small underestimation that won't happen again."
"No it won't," Ron agreed. "Because if I want something done right I'll have to do it."
"You're not being fair." Harry whined.
"And if I can't trust you with a simple job then I can't trust you to leave the ship or even pilot it."
"Ron, that's just ridiculous. Not only are assassination and piloting two different things, but we both know I'm the better pilot.' Harry said.
"Have you forgotten who is in charge?" Ron growled.
"What do you mean "in charge" we're partners." Harry answered.
"Please don't make me laugh." Ron said with a sneer. "I designed you, Harry. I had you made, Harry. I raised you, Harry. I've even fixed you, Harry." Ron closed the gap between them. He then lased his fingers in Harry's hair, and pulled it back. "You belong to me, Harry. I make the demands you fallow them, not the other way around. If I want you to kill someone you kill them. If I want you to stay on the ship you stay. If I want to fuck you, you spread you spread you legs. It is that simple."
Harry pushed Ron away, but Ron held tight on his hair. "Let me go." Harry cried.
"I told you, Harry. I'm the one that makes demands. I'll let go of you only when I feel like it." Ron sneered, and grabbed Harry's wrist tightly.
"Please Ron, Let go. It hurts." Harry pleaded.
Ron ignored him, and said. "I've treated you far too human far to long."
Harry trebled, and then struggled in Ron's grip. Ron's eyes glinted hatefully sending great fear into Harry.
"What's happened to you?" Harry whispered.
"I've treated you like a human but your not. I let you develop the image that you are. That was a foolish mistake I wish to amend. You're a living machine, and a flawed one at that. Your instability and emotional tendencies will no longer acceptable. Do you understand?"
"Ron?" Harry whispered both confused and scared.
"I said. Do you understand?" Ron repeated.
Harry wanted to scream no but instead answered, "Yes."
"Good. Now go take care of the boy. I've got an errand to run." Ron then turned around and left.
Harry rubbed his bruised wrist. "What's going on?" He whispered.
Warnings: see previous warnings
Gene looked at the collapsed businessman in front of his door. "Damn merchants." Gene cursed, and bent down to cradle Fred in his arms. Gene carried Fred in, and sat him in a chair.
Leaving Fred momentarily unattended Gene left to make a pot of coffee. With the current state of Gene's head he would need it.
Letting the coffee brew Gene decided to look at Fred's wound. Gene striped Fred of his jacket and shirt, and was thankful Fred did not wake up. Then Gene knelled at Fred's side to inspect the wound. Luckily it was not as bad a Gene had thought. Then wound had clotted for the most part, and the bullet had stopped when it hit bone. It was nothing Gene could not take care of.
Sighing Gene got up to get a first aid kit, and a half-empty bottle of cheep wine. After setting them on the coffee table, Gene opened the kit and pulled out some basic surgical tools. Gene went back to the kitchen and put the tools and the water on to boil.
Then Gene turned to a lifesaver, coffee. Gene's head was pounding and he wondered if he had drunk too much the night before. It would not have been the first time, nor would it be the last. It really did not matter to Gene though, because the coffee helped ease the pain and clear his head.
Gene finished the cup and poured another. Then he brought the cup and a bowl of warm with a washcloth in to the living room. Gene set the cup on the table next to the first aid kit, and then pulled a chair up next to Fred. Using the washcloth and water Gene then cleaned up Fred's wounded shoulder. Every so often Gene would rinse out the washcloth in the water. It did not take very long for the water to turn red.
After a few minutes Fred's eyes fluttered open with a pained moan. Fred slowly awoke, and tried to recover his baring in the unfamiliar room. "Hi Fred." Gene said and sat the bowl of water and blood on the table.
Slightly disoriented Fred asked, "What happened?"
Gene picked up his coffee and recapped. "You woke me up at the ungodly hour of noon. I told you "You've been shot." And then you fainted."
Fred sheepishly tugged his ear. "I was never very good around blood."
Gene grunted and finished his coffee. "If you want I can take the bullet out." Gene offered.
"O-Okay." Fred answered.
Gene nodded and went back to the kitchen caring his cup and the bloody water. A minute later he returned with the newly sterilized tools on a clean towel.
"Here." Gene said, offering the cheep wine. "It's easier if you drink this." Fred took the offered bottle, and after realizing he would not be offered a glass he drank a swallow of the wine. Gen laughed lightly at Fred's disgusted face. "I bought the wine to get drunk off of, not to taste.' Gene informed Fred.
"It's still disgusting.' Fred said.
"Would you prefer some expensive wine to dull your senses before I take the bullet out?" Gene teased.
Fred opened his mouth to answer, and then shut it.
Gene gave a cocky grin. "Seriously you might want to get at least tipsy before I start." Gene warned.
Fred stuck his nose up at the bottle. "I'll pass."
"Suit yourself." Gene replied. Gene then began the process of removing the bullet.
"Ow, Gene!"
"I haven't even started!"
"Sit still!"
"But Gene!"
"Quite whining!"
"Is there supposed to be so much blood?"
"Damn it! Turn your head if you're going to be sick."
"Quite crying, don't be such a baby."
"But Geeene it hurts!"
"There all done." Gene said presenting the bullet to Fred.
"That wasn't so bad." Fred said.
Gene growled and resisted the urge to throw the bullet at Fred's face. Instead Gene cleaned Fred's wound with rubbing alcohol.
Fred winced at the sting, but didn't complain. After all Gene was tending to Fred's wounds, and Fred even had whined a little more than necessary when Gene removed the bullet for the attention. Despite the pain Fred felt giddy with Gene helping him.
When Gene started wrapping up Fred's arm, Fred said. "I didn't know you knew first aid,"
"I don't really." Gene said. "I only know how to bandage things up and some basic field surgery. It's kind of necessary with the amount of knife and bullet wounds we get, and hospitals ask too many questions."
Fred nodded in understanding, as his infatuation for Gene grew from knowing another hidden talent of Gene's.
Gene frowned and added. "Jim knows a lot more about this stuff, and is better at it." Gene put his head in his hand.
"Are you okay, Gene" Fred asked with genuine concern.
"Yeah." Gene answered. "It's just that you never realize how important someone is until they are gone."
It was now Fred's turn to frown. "Your right Gene, you don't." Fred thought of his bodyguard who more than likely lay in a dead heap on his office floor. "Gene I know this is a bad time, but I need to ask you a favor."
"What is it Fred?" Gene sighed.
"I really need a bodyguard right now. Someone I know I can trust." Fred said.
"Not now Fred. Things are way too screwed up. Any way don't you have that weird guy?" Gene asked.
"No." Fred answered. "Even if he survived he is no condition to work." Fred gazed at his feet, and fought the creeping depression. Fred hoped his guard was still alive, but the chances that he was, was slim to nil. After so many years together the thought hurt.
Gene felt a pang of pity at the sight of a sad Fred. "I'll help." Gene said.
"Thanks." Fred only gave a half smile.
*_*_*_
"YOU WHAT!" Ron screamed.
"I'm sorry, Ron. His bodyguard was more trouble than I expected." Harry apologized.
"No excuse. You were playing around instead of doing the job." Ron yelled.
"It's not that big of a deal, Ron. I'll go back and take care of it." Harry suggested.
"No it is obvious that I can't trust you with something as simple as assassination. I'm not even sure that I can trust you with the errand I wanted to." Ron said controlling his boiling rage down to a simmer.
"Oh come on Ron," Harry began, as he walked within a foot of Ron. "It was a small underestimation that won't happen again."
"No it won't," Ron agreed. "Because if I want something done right I'll have to do it."
"You're not being fair." Harry whined.
"And if I can't trust you with a simple job then I can't trust you to leave the ship or even pilot it."
"Ron, that's just ridiculous. Not only are assassination and piloting two different things, but we both know I'm the better pilot.' Harry said.
"Have you forgotten who is in charge?" Ron growled.
"What do you mean "in charge" we're partners." Harry answered.
"Please don't make me laugh." Ron said with a sneer. "I designed you, Harry. I had you made, Harry. I raised you, Harry. I've even fixed you, Harry." Ron closed the gap between them. He then lased his fingers in Harry's hair, and pulled it back. "You belong to me, Harry. I make the demands you fallow them, not the other way around. If I want you to kill someone you kill them. If I want you to stay on the ship you stay. If I want to fuck you, you spread you spread you legs. It is that simple."
Harry pushed Ron away, but Ron held tight on his hair. "Let me go." Harry cried.
"I told you, Harry. I'm the one that makes demands. I'll let go of you only when I feel like it." Ron sneered, and grabbed Harry's wrist tightly.
"Please Ron, Let go. It hurts." Harry pleaded.
Ron ignored him, and said. "I've treated you far too human far to long."
Harry trebled, and then struggled in Ron's grip. Ron's eyes glinted hatefully sending great fear into Harry.
"What's happened to you?" Harry whispered.
"I've treated you like a human but your not. I let you develop the image that you are. That was a foolish mistake I wish to amend. You're a living machine, and a flawed one at that. Your instability and emotional tendencies will no longer acceptable. Do you understand?"
"Ron?" Harry whispered both confused and scared.
"I said. Do you understand?" Ron repeated.
Harry wanted to scream no but instead answered, "Yes."
"Good. Now go take care of the boy. I've got an errand to run." Ron then turned around and left.
Harry rubbed his bruised wrist. "What's going on?" He whispered.