Author's note ~ I bleed it out, digging deeper just to throw it away.

Hope you enjoy.

Newt turned his face away, but pride prevented him from following the other two.

Besides, he felt a little...responsible for the new shank.

"Hand me the other jar, would you Jeff?" Adrian requested.

Taking the jar of clover and poppy solution from Jeff, he tipped it back and hurriedly drained half of the liquid. Making a face at the bitter flavor, he handed it back to the medic with a nod. "Cap that; I'll take the rest of it later. You know what you have to do now."

Jeff swallowed hard. "Yeah, I think so."

"Good. And Jeff? Once you start, make good and sure you finish. Don't half-ass it, or you won't be doing me any favors. Got it?"

Jeff closed his eyes and nodded, stress lines carving valleys across his forehead.

"Anything I can do?" Newt asked, reluctantly. He didn't think he'd be able to stomache assisting in whatever was coming next, but didn't feel right just doing nothing. He had to at least try to support them, especially as his friend looked sick and shaky, and the new guy had to be in a huge amount of pain himself. After glancing at the horrifying wound, he didn't really want to think about what the next step might be. Adrian jerked a shoulder, not really looking at Newt.

"I...could probably use a shoulder. Something to hold on to. "

Newt moved around to the opposite side of the bunk, sitting down next to Adrian so that their left shoulders brushed together. Firmly facing away, Newt steeled himself.

"What do you need me to do?"

"If you can, put your left hand on my right thigh; get a decent grip and hold it down. Brace my left shoulder with yours; it'll help keep me upright until Jeff is done."

Determined to help, Newt reached across Adrian and laid his hand on the man's body, preparing to get a good grip and resolutely not looking. When his hand felt warm flesh through thin fabric, Adrian suddenly stiffened and Newt froze, mortified.

"Does that feel like a leg, kid?"

"Uh..."

"Then maybe you should let it go."

"Er..."

Jeff snorted audibly, breaking the tense moment. Adrian's hand took a hold of Newt's invasive appendage and removed it from the overly personal area it had landed in, placing it firmly on his warm bare thigh. Newt felt about ready to die of embarrassment and was suddenly very glad he was facing the other way; he turned his head a little further to hide the faint but distinct burning he felt in his cheeks. If it was possible to simply sink through the floor in mortification, he would have happily done so. Taking a few deep breaths in preparation, Adrian closed his eyes.

"Do it, Jeff."

Before he could lose his nerve, Jeff picked up the tongs in his lightly shaking hand and inserted them into the wound on Adrian's leg. Adrian's body jerked and he choked out a cry before gritting his teeth and turning his head into Newt's shoulder. His right hand clenched the bunk in a vise like grip, his left shot up and gripped Newt's free shoulder tightly. Black spots swam in front of his eyes.

"Hold him still!" Jeff barked at Newt.

Newt leaned on his left hand with all his strength, holding the jittering leg in place. He could feel Adrian's panting breaths puffing against his skin, could feel the sweat from his forehead soaking into the shoulder of his shirt. He could see the muscles in the man's back, clenched tight as fists, as he fought to hold up through the pain. Hesitantly, Newt lifted his free hand to the man's back, holding him awkwardly through the agony, trying to offer what scant comfort he could as Jeff maneuvered the tongs inside Adrian's flesh.

After what felt like a lifetime of holding the trembling man, Jeff's seeming random movements suddenly stopped, and he took a stronger grip on the tongs. In one swift move and without stopping to think about it, he yanked on the tongs, removing a smallish twisted lump of metal from the abused limb. Adrian's body rocked with the force of the agonized scream that erupted from him before he, mercifully, passed out.

Newt felt the man go limp and only just managed to shift his left arm upwards to catch him before he could pitch forward. The hand released its painful grip on his shoulder and fell to the bunk as he supported the man's dead weight.

"What the bloody hell did you do?!" Newt demanded.

"He told me...he told me there was something in the hole in his thigh." Jeff spoke lowly, his voice shaking a little. "He said, if I didn't get it out, it would...poison him." He looked downright miserable as he looked at Newt, his eyes pleading a little. "He said it was the only way."

"Something in there? Something like what?"

Jeff picked up the jar Adrian had used to dip water from the pot, dropping the gory object clasped in the tongs into the inch of tepid water left in the glass. It made a light tinkling sound as it hit the bottom of the jar.

It was a bullet.

The little chunk of iron sitting harmlessly in the glass jar looked almost innocent, and the boys stared at it in silence. In the quiet all they could hear were the sounds of birds settling down for the evening and the faint but steady breathing of the unconscious man. Jeff wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand, grateful that the worst was over. "Keep him upright and steady so I can finish this, okay?" He requested. Newt nodded, shifting his arms a little to get a more comfortable grip on the greenie. The guy wasn't exactly a feather.

Jeff retrieved the jar of marigold solution that he had set aside and, using the rinsed tongs, swished a small wad of bandage in the golden liquid. Turning back, he carefully inserted the cloth into the open wound, packing it with the herbal soaked linen. He then used more dampened fabric to clean away the rather substantial amount of blood and pus that had leaked from the wound during the unpleasant procedure. Moving quickly, competently, Jeff bound the leg in fresh white linen, then helped Newt to ease the unconscious man down into a horizontal position on the bunk. Both boys stepped back, satisfied that they had done all they could for the moment. Jeff turned to Newt.

"I could really use a drink."

"That's the bloody truth, you and me both."

Newt spied the half full jar of untouched liquor and, after hardly a moment's thought, picked it up and drank half of the strong beverage, resisting the urge to make a face at the sharp unpleasant flavor. He offered the rest to the med-jack, who took it without ceremony and drained it in one slick gulp.

"I need to get a few things...the greenie asked me to get some things, in case he needs them when he wakes up. Can you watch him for a bit?"

Newt sighed, resigned. After a long night of no sleep, a full day of running, the excitement (and tension) of Adrian's release from the box, and the stress of assisting in the treatment of his injuries, Newt felt as though he'd lived a full week in the last day. He desperately wanted a little quiet time to just relax, breathe and get his head around the events of the day. Still, he knew that Jeff would probably be up most of the night keeping an eye on his patient, and they couldn't exactly leave an injured person unattended.

"Sure, Jeff. I'll keep an eye."

"Thanks! I shouldn't be too long, there's not much light left."

Relieved, Jeff dashed away, leaving Newt alone with Adrian. Newt leaned against the wall, watching the man. He noticed that, even in sleep, Adrian didn't look particularly peaceful. He had a little worry scrunch between his eyebrows, his forehead was lightly furrowed. Newt wondered what he was thinking, seeing, dreaming. He wondered where Adrian had come from, why he was sent here to them. He wondered what answers Adrian might have when he woke up. Thinking of their rudimentary communication in the box, before Adrian could speak, Newt's burning curiosity eased to a simmer, the side of his mouth quirking into a small satisfied smirk.

He'd be able to get the answers. He just had to wait for Adrian to wake up.

Lost in thought, it felt as though only moments had passed when Jeff reappeared at the door of the med hut, his shirt held out in front of him like a basket. Shaking his head to clear it, Newt got up to offer Jeff a hand with his load of -

"More bloody flowers? What is this, a 'get well' bouquet?" Newt remarked sarcastically.

"He...the greenie..."

"Adrian."

"Adrian," Jeff corrected, "asked me to bring him as many flowers and plants from the meadow as he could, especially anything with blue or purple flowers. He said that most plants are useful for something; food or crafts or healing. He told me that if I brought in as many as I could, he'd be able to identify some, and may be able to make some other medicines. And," Jeff said, dumping the entire mess of vegetation onto an unoccupied bunk, a glint coming into his eye, "he said he'd teach me, show me what to use. To help people. I should be good here, if you want to take off for the night. "

Newt lifted a brow at the distinctive sound of metal hitting wood. Jeff smiled sheepishly. "He also wanted a metal can, a small pot, another jar of booze. Can you take that big pot and refill it with fresh water for me?"

Shaking his head a little at Jeff, Newt hauled the large hefty pot to the small creek that ran in a meandering path, forming a small pool that was just a few minutes walk from the back of the med hut. Delivering the water and considering his duties complete, Newt wandered back towards the center of the settlement. He was well and truly fagged, and wanted nothing more than to see if he could scrounge up a bit of a nibble from the cook hut and then pass out until morning.

It had been a long couple of days.

Author's note ~ For anyone who's wondering, while I am pulling from both the novel series and the films for this fic, the environment and character aesthetics ar based almost purely on the films. The more rustic, hand made dwellings and lack of first world supplies in the Glade, for example. It works better with my premise.

I also borrowed a bit of banter from BBT to add a spot of levity to a tense moment. I thought it worked well.

Thanks for reading!

~Ruby