Brief
Commentary:
Oh ho ho! Mad skills! Two updates two days in a row! Maybe tomorrow I'll write another. -intelligent smirk- Anyway, I'm hoping this all goes well - I'm not very experienced when it comes to the medical area, so I might get a few descriptions wrong here...peh. I suppose I can always ask my dad to let me examine a few of his guns/bullets for reference...hrm. Anything you don't get, search Wikipedia. :)
Reasons
Not For Your Ears
Chapter Thirteen
Winry's head buzzed with fatigue and nausea as she observed the blood that still dripped from Edward's wounds, and the prodding of her grandmother's nimble fingers as she examined his condition and estimated how deep into his flesh the bullets had bitten. Although the gash in his side had been bandaged, a dark red stain was still present against the stark white cloth.
"They're hollow-point bullets," Pinako had explained briskly. "The worst kind because they're difficult to get out. With these two, we're a little lucky - their expansion is at its minimum, so it may be slightly easier. Winry, get me the tweezers."
The blonde adolescent was certain she didn't want to know how exactly her grandmother knew this, and had quickly gone to do as she had asked. She had nearly retched again when Pinako began to explore his gunshot wounds, poking and pulling at his skin and the flesh in his arm until she discovered the depth of the first bullet, which had been close to shattering the bone in his upper arm. Fortunately, it had only buried itself in by a few inches. Expertly, her grandmother had pried the hollow-point out with the tweezers, before handing the expanded bullet to Winry and ordering her to throw it away. Noticing the blood and pus that had oozed out along with it, she eagerly obeyed.
With the first bullet removed and the wound cleaned, Pinako quickly turned to the second, her face grim as she flipped him onto his stomach to examine it. She let out a low whistle.
"He really is lucky."
Repeating her previous actions of prodding and drawing back his skin, she asked again for the tweezers and Winry gave them, her face white with fear and anxiety. Her grandmother slowly eased the tweezers into the wound, before she pulled it out and tried again. Once more she removed it and gripped at the wrist holding them, muttering,
"My hands are shaking so much...damn it."
"Baa-chan, maybe we should just take him to the hospital - they can do something. Please, let's just-"
"No hospitals," Pinako snapped, interrupting her. "The bastards there let your parents die. We're fine here."
Winry quickly drew back, as if burned, and quietly sat down, staring at her hands folded in her lap. With a sigh, her grandmother turned back to Edward, focusing her attention completely on the gunshot wound as she carefully re-inserted the tweezers. After several minutes of a tense, thick silence the elderly Rockbell let out a hiss of frustration as she was once again unsuccessful.
"I can't do with such damn shaky hands. Winry."
She looked up.
"You do it."
"Me?" Winry stared at her in disbelief.
"Who the hell else is here?" Pinako glared at her. "Do it."
"But I don't know how to do that kind of thing!"
"You put the tweezers in there and pull the fucking bullet out, Winry! How hard is it?"
"But what if I make it worse?"
"Then you make it worse. Do it."
Nervously Winry took the tweezers from her grandmother and slowly approached Edward's unmoving figure, her own hands trembling. Cautiously peering down at the bullet hole, she felt she might be sick again at the metallic glint she could see buried into his flesh. Stretching the skin around the wound so that the tweezers wouldn't catch on anything on their way in and out, Winry hesitantly eased them in, flinching when she heard a tiny 'tap' as metal met metal. Nearly dropping the tweezers, she attempted to regain her composure before allowing the two prongs to open a little ways as she tried to clasp them around the bullet. Eventually she felt them clutch the expanded part of the bullet and did her best to begin easing it out, praying that she wouldn't drop it. Winry nearly collapsed with relief when the hollow-point finally left the confines of Edward's flesh. Instead, she fell to her knees. Pinako understood her granddaughter's stress and took over, cleaning the wound and removing the pus that had bubbled up in response, until it was clear of all discharge and had been bandaged. When she finished, she turned to see Winry offering her the expanded bullet.
"Winry," Pinako gently accepted it. "Scrub your hands and clean him up while I throw this away. We have to make sure that the second bullet wound doesn't get infected, and that the rest of him is washed and bandaged. This boy's still in terrible condition, regardless of whether or not the bullets are in him or out of him."
"O-okay," she nodded, standing on weak legs to go towards the sink. Turning the water to lukewarm, Winry allowed herself plenty of soap as she washed, not wanting to leave a single contagious germ behind that could possibly infect his wounds. After rinsing off the suds and wiping her hands with a clean dish towel, Winry sucked in a deep breath and turned back to Edward, still lying limply on the couch. How long would he stay like that? Chewing her lip, she strode to his side, placing a hand to his exposed back then quickly drawing it away as she realized how feverish he really was.
She reported this to her grandmother as soon as she had returned from throwing out the bullet, but had been waved off.
"Infection's more important than the fever," was all Pinako had said in response, before she proceeded to clean and bandage other wounds on his back. The deep gash in his side wouldn't stop bleeding, however, and much time and effort was spent pressing into the injury to suppress the blood flow. The majority of their ointment, cloths, and gauze had to be used to do so, but fortunately the remainder of his injuries were less extreme. They could easily be cleaned and bandaged through the simple use of a damp washcloth and a normal band aid, which were used. He was then turned to lie on his back and left alone after a cold cloth was put on his forehead to decrease his feverish temperature.
So, several hours after they had begun (it was approximately 12:47 AM), both Winry and Pinako sat opposite each other in their family room/kitchen, silently observing Edward's unmoving body. After a few minutes, Winry spoke up,
"Baa-chan, would it be okay if I took tomorrow off from school? I want to make sure he stays okay."
Pinako gave her a look.
"Winry, you forget that I'll be home. I can handle it."
"Yeah, but...uh...I kind of haven't told you...I guess I was too panicked to think..."
"...told me what?" her grandmother, with her pipe now in her mouth, observed her warily.
"You know the boy who I met on the street...and he gave me a bruise on my wrist and ran away...?" Winry asked slowly. Pinako nodded with impatience.
"Yes, Winry, I remember."
"Er...that's him."
The elderly Rockbell blinked in surprise, before she leaned back against her chair and let out a short, exasperated breath.
"I thought so."
Now it was her turn to be surprised.
"Baa-chan...?"
"Never mind, Winry," Pinako dismissed the conversation quickly, Winry knowing well enough that it would be useless to attempt to continue it.
Another few minutes passed before she repeated her earlier question. Her grandmother only sighed and gave a small nod.
"You've been through a lot tonight, anyway," she muttered. "I'm going to go on ahead to bed. Unlike you, I'm rather tired."
"Okay, Baa-chan," Winry smiled at her in thanks. "I'll be up in a second. Do we have any old shirts of Chichi-ue's?"
Her grandmother looked thoughtful for a moment before she gave a hesitant nod.
"I think so. Try checking the old boxes in the hall closet. We probably have something...is it for the boy...Edward, was it?"
"Yeah," Winry attempted to hide her blush, but it showed rather easily. "His old shirt's obviously filthy and torn - would it even be called a shirt anymore?"
Pinako smiled knowingly.
"Don't think so."
With that, the elderly Rockbell rose from her chair and disappeared to her room.
Winry glanced back over to Edward; his face, which had before been contorted with pain and agony, now seemed more peaceful, as if he were in a light doze. Standing up from the stool she sat on, she padded quietly over to his side, moving the wet cloth to feel his forehead. His temperature still hadn't gone down, but the cloth, at least, was still cool. Putting it back in its place, she watched the rise and fall of Edward's chest, noticing in great detail the scars that decorated his torso in intricate, random patterns. Winry found herself tempted to trace her fingers along them, just to see where the scars would lead her. Her face grew red at the thought, and she tightly clasped her hands together to prevent any chance of her actually doing so.
Finally, when the clock on the kitchen wall read 12:58, she stood to fetch a shirt for Edward and go to bed...but as she passed his sleeping form, Winry couldn't help but extend her finger tips to touch his skin as she passed. Unfortunately, her already beet-red face grew another shade darker at what she had just done, especially when she heard him move slightly in his sleep. Quickly, she darted to the hall closet and threw open the door, hoping the task of finding one of her father's old shirts would calm her mood to some degree.
God help her if it didn't.
Man, I didn't finish this until late. :( Weird how there are no breaks in this one chapter...
