Chapter 49
"Thanks for letting me help."
"I didn't think you were overly happy at the common house." Jeff had been in there a few times and she had always been smiling but also looked bored. Once the second bag was done, he gently nudged her aside. "Okay now, we… cauterize the wound." A band-aid on the booboo didn't help. "And bam, piggy will be fine. Matt, next pig." They proceeded to do this until they had plenty of blood and Jeff hesitated, looking towards the 'human blood bank', which was kept in a giant refrigerated unit that ran on several generators, including backups. "I think… they should both be fine using the pig blood, because of the magic they have." He really didn't want to touch the human blood because there were non-magical people who needed specific types. "If you're interested in learning, I can show you. As I said, Melina doesn't like blood." He had mopped up more puke from that woman than kids with flu.
"Deadman and Malcolm are heading this way."
"Okay, that would be great."
For some reason, Abigail enjoyed sticking a needle inside a vein and watching the blood drain into a bag. What the hell was wrong with her? The fact she was good at it was a plus and with practice, she would probably be the top 'nurse' in Wonderful. Since there wasn't any actual doctors and nurses these days, just people with skillful hands. That's basically what it boiled down to. Abigail looked up when Mark and Malcolm arrived, carting the Mythril containers they had fashioned with them.
"Abigail, you're going to help me drain them, alright?"
"W-What? Are you sure that's…okay?"
"Your hands are steady, and you didn't flinch with the pigs. You can do this." There was no way Melina could and only a select few people actually knew what they were doing when it came to drawing blood. She had a talent for it. "Unless you don't think you can handle it because it's…Taker and Malcolm?"
She shook her head, refusing to back down from this. "I can handle it." Her eyes locked with Mark, knowing they probably wouldn't be able to talk later like he wanted, due to how weak he'd be. "Are you two okay with that?"
"I'm assuming you have steady hands, so yes." Malcolm said gently, busy helping Mark set down the Mythril containers he had created.
Mythril was interesting, to say the least, though he was sweating like he was still in that forge. No wonder he magically sealed it before working with it. The stuff was definitely dangerous when being converted into a new form.
"Also, while you're draining, I'll be setting up on the other arm for the transfusions, I can't do both." They would have been able to once upon a time, drain and put back together, but…. they'd make do with this. "That okay, Taker?"
He nodded stiffly. "Drain the blood in these, Abigail." He gestured to the containers. "I'll go first. Malcolm, you make sure you preserve what she takes."
Taker was already in a tank top, so… easy access to his veins. He did wash up first in the sink before dropping down into the chair Jeff and Melina used for everything. Checkups, dental, all of it. Matt helped here and there; they had brought in men from the barn, who did butchering to help with surgeries. Hell… he had delivered babies, both the good old fashioned way and via C-section. All about them steady hands. After cooling off, Taker decided they would definitely be talking about Dean Ambrose, but her reaction earlier to the man and to him had spoken volumes.
"Not going to get squeamish on me, are you darlin'?" He asked, just a hint of amusement in his tone.
"One way to find out."
Abigail couldn't believe she was doing this, actually draining blood out of Mark, and looked over at Malcolm, who was ready to preserve the blood as soon as it came out. Slipping on a pair of fresh medical gloves, Abigail wrapped the band around his arm and pressed on the vein in his arm, nodding when she found it. Jeff did say she had a knack for this, maybe he was right because she was going on what she'd been taught to do.
Taking the needle, she slipped it into Mark's arm and watched the blood flow out, taking the band off his arm. They would take half his blood now and the rest once he replenished. She wanted to kiss him, to tell him how much she loved him, but now wasn't the time or place, not after earlier. If Dean ever came near her again, she would destroy him. Looking at the bag, Abigail watched Jeff change it and Malcolm chanted in tongues, the white mist coating it.
"Are you okay, Taker?"
Taker shrugged, not minding the loss of blood because he was aware in between switching out bags, Jeff was prepping for the transfusion to replenish him afterward. He was also curious to know if Glen's magic, the protection intent of it, would kick in if it felt like he was being threatened. It was an interesting experiment, to say the least.
"I'm fine, darlin'."
"Two and a half pints, you will feel it, maybe. We're bordering between a class 2 and class 3 hemorrhage, I'm leaning towards… two, maybe. You are bigger than the average man, so that has to be taken into account. Transfusions, under typical circumstances, wouldn't be necessary, but we're also looking to drain you again in a few days." They were operating on a time limit.
The moment, the second, they hit 2 pints, Mark began…glowing. That was the ONLY way she could describe it and it made Jeff jump back. Abigail couldn't because she had to hold the needle steady, the glow touching her skin feeling warm. It was incredible, her eyes wide in wonder, and felt her mouth fall open. Was that Glen's magic?
Malcolm was bewildered as well, watching his son close his eyes, his whole body outlined in white. "Glen…"
A few minutes later, the glow was gone, and Abigail pulled the needle out of Mark's arm, not realizing she'd taken more than 2 ½ pints. "Taker?" She reached out to touch the side of his face, watching his eyes slowly open, and breathed a sigh of relief, waiting for the hemorrhaging to start.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing happened, and Jeff was confounded, maybe even startled.
"Okay boss, what the fuck just happened?"
"When Glen saved me, he pushed his magic into me." Taker had been telling this story a lot lately, it seemed. "Intent means something with magic."
Malcolm nodded his agreement. "Exactly. And it was his intent to save you, and that's now bonded to the pass he inadvertently gave you. Glen's intent lives on." He was so proud of his son, wishing he was able to tell him that.
Taker was a bit worried about future side effects, like… was he going to age and die, or was the magic going to keep his ass alive for… forever? His troubled gaze moved to Abigail. That would be a lonely, desolating future indeed.
"So, you're okay? You don't feel any different?" Mark shook his head and she didn't waste another heartbeat, cupping his face in her gloved hands to softly kiss him. "Good."
Relief coursed through her that Mark's magic, or rather Glen's, had protected him yet again. If Mark was worried about the magic stopping him from aging or not dying, all he had to do was siphon it out into another Mythril crystal again. Become fully human again without any magic. Something told Abigail, after this war with the DOV and Bray, if they survived, he would do that simply because of his hatred for magic, to begin with.
"Alright Malcolm, you're next. Are you ready?"
"Yes, my dear."
Whatever was going on between Abigail and Mark, they would work it out. He could tell how much they loved each other, and it reminded him of his beloved Cecilia – Mark, Glen and Lily's mother. This time, they would be watching for signs of hemorrhaging because, unlike Mark, Malcolm did not have the protection from his son. She wrapped his arm in the band, after changing out her gloves, and stuck the needle in the vein while Mark chanted in tongues this time, doing the same spell his father had to preserve the blood.
Jeff was curious if they should've maybe done the entire draining process in one go due to the fact Taker's magic had protected him.
Taker was thinking along the same lines. When they had first discussed this venture, there was uncertainty about the healing factor. Now that they knew… it seemed feasible to just take the blood from him, if that would work for Malcolm's spell.
"You make sure you speak out if you feel faint, or weak, or anything not normal." Taker ordered, eyeing his father intently.
No kidding. It would royally suck to lose a patient, a magical one at that, due to this… Jeff swallowed hard, glancing at Abigail before looking back to Malcolm. "Does this spell require both your blood or just one? Cause Taker can donate without… risks."
"It must be two Calaway's, dear boy. A blood sacrifice is nothing to trifle with and only his will not break the spell on Wyatt." Malcolm explained, leaning his head back with a smile.
Figuring, if he died during this, at least he would be reunited with the rest of their family. He wasn't afraid of dying, never had been and Mark knew the spell required to break it. Malcolm had talked with him extensively in the forge and he'd written it down for Mark earlier that day.
"I'm ready."
Nodding, Abigail began siphoning the blood from his body and could see the worry in Mark's eyes, knowing he didn't want to lose his father. He placed a hand on Malcolm's shoulder, giving him support, and what happened next was…astounding. Reaching 2 pints, just like Mark, Malcolm's body began to outline in a white glow, just like Mark. She shared a confused look with Jeff, wondering where this magic was coming from, and looked at Mark, his eyes rolled in the back of his head. What the HELL? Was it because he was touching his father, Glen's magic was automatically saving Malcolm? Magic was…Abigail didn't have the words to describe this and saw the 3 pints was taken, pulling the needle out while Mark continued chanting to preserve the blood. Mark pulled his hand away from Malcolm, the glow instantly vanishing and they both looked up at her at the same time.
"Malcolm, how do you feel? Are you okay?"
"I feel fantastic actually, like my batteries were just recharged." Malcolm was studying Mark thoughtfully. "Did you…?"
"I was curious."
Intent, and pushing it out, he wasn't sure if it would work on anyone not of their bloodline, but… at least neither of them were going to die of blood loss. That was a definite win in his book. Magic had its purposes, that was for sure, but it was so easily abused too.
"You just…healed him?" Jeff blinked, his jaw dropped, and tried to comprehend what happened since he was a scientist.
It had to be the blood ties since they shared the same blood. Either way, this would work, nobody would die, and they could finally break the spell over Bray. Abigail nodded when Jeff instructed her to take two of the Mythril containers to place them in the trailer with the rest of the blood. With the spell Malcolm and Mark cast over it, the blood would stay fresh regardless of how much time passed.
"You did very well, despite the magic shit." Jeff wanted to train her more, wondering if she had time, and glanced at Taker, who was speaking quietly with Malcolm. "I think you should start working in the medical wing, Abbie."
"But I don't have any training or qualifications…"
"And you think any of us do?" Jeff chuckled, shutting the door to the trailer and squeezed her shoulder. "You did great with this, so the rest will be child's play. You remained focused, didn't flinch, and stayed calm. We need more of that in the medical wing, less vomit."
Abigail could see the desperation in Jeff's eyes, knowing he was tired of Melina vomiting every time she had to draw someone's blood. "Okay – okay, I'm sold, I'll do it."
"Good!"
Taker couldn't lie, he was very pleased with this shift in what she wanted to do. She had been intending to work with Dean Ambrose; looked like Dean had ended that relationship through his own big, fat mouth spilling secrets nobody was obviously supposed to know, not even him.
"What do you think, boss?"
"Maybe she'll be better at delivering babies than me."
"Uh, maybe assist… no c-sections anytime soon."
Jeff hoped they didn't have to deal with that for Stephanie. Taker's hands were the steadiest for that situation. Jeff had done one c-section and learned the hard way he was better at general surgery that didn't have two lives depending on him.
She loved Mark and was part of his 'circle', as Dean put it. Abigail didn't have a problem with it anymore, wondering why she cared in the first place. Everyone was kind, loyal and they helped her, but for some odd reason, she had deterred from them. Dean had poisoned her mind and her heart, but not anymore. The common house wasn't her calling, but the medical field seemed to be. Delivering babies…maybe that would be a bit too much for her, but then again, there was only one way to find out and that was trying.
"Thanks for the encouragement. I'll do my best."
"There's not a lot going on right now in the medical wing, so take the rest of the day off." She earned it after all the work she did with the pigs and then Taker and Malcolm. "It's past lunchtime, you should be starving."
"No, I'm not hungry." Maybe there was a cot in the medical wing she could sleep on since that's where she would be working from now on.
"She's tired." Taker announced, walking over to stand by her, staring down into Abigail's face intently.
She was going to be even more tired by the time they were done with the talk they were about to go have. Taker had cooled down, had a mental list of what he wanted to say and ask, and that would be that. He didn't doubt she loved him. But… he also knew how erratic her mind could be, how she could easily swing back and forth. Abigail's anger with Dean would likely blow over, just as it had with him. He needed to know where she stood, and not just temporarily.
Tired was an understatement, she felt drained in every way possible and just nodded, cracking a hesitant smile at Jeff. Abigail had made a big mistake by trusting Dean and asking for his help. She would not change her mind on Dean, not after what he did. Granted, Mark wasn't supposed to overhear him, but the fact he kissed her, put his hands on her, and mentioned what happened that night under the stars on their journey…it crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. She would lose Mark because of him and, as much as it broke her heart, Abigail had to push her feelings on the back burner until this ordeal with the DOV and Bray was over with.
Then she could breakdown.
Mark took her hand, guiding her up the street away from the barn and all she did was look straight ahead, nodding to a few people they passed by and refused to look at the Shield building, planning on never stepping foot in that place again as long as she lived. Once the tower came into view, Abigail tensed and felt Mark squeeze her hand, having to fight the urge not to pull away or run in the opposite direction. She was scared and had to steel herself, ready for the very big possibility of Mark ending things with her for good.
