Callen was restless with fever induced dreams to supplement his normal nightmares. At one point he bolted upwards into a sitting position which, considering his current injury set was no small feat. His eyes sprang open and wildly looked around for whatever had been tormenting him in his dreams. Sam, who'd been catnapping, instantly woke and moved to his partner's side trying to calm him down. Callen's breathing was ragged as he fought his way out of his nightmare.
Finally, Callen's eyes cleared and Sam could see he was back in the present. "You past the slugging stage?" Sam asked referring to Callen's nasty tendency to come up swinging when unexpectedly awoken.
"Yeh, no I'm good," Callen replied settling back into a more comfortable position. He felt something warm and wet running down his chest. Unbuttoning his shirt and easing it off his injured shoulder, he saw the bandage Sam had placed on the bullet wound earlier was blood-soaked and more was seeping out from underneath it.
"That doesn't look good G." Even in the dim firelight Sam could see the blood trails. "The bullet must have nicked the suprascapular artery on the way thru since the entry point is below the clavicle. We have to stop that bleeding. I know it is not a lot, but given how much you have already lost and your current condition..." Sam's voice trailed off.
"Got a knife in that bag of tricks?" Callen asked in a deceptively mild voice. Sam's eyes grew wide understanding the implication. "There's no other way Sam. It is the only method that is going to hold up to what we need to do over the next few days if we are going to make it home," Callen said patiently, knowing he was right and hating that he was at the same time.
Sam bit his lower lip and Callen almost thought for a moment the big guy was going to refuse. "I could do it myself, but it would be a little awkward. Shall we call our favorite ninja and ask her advice?"
Sam silently rose and dug the knife out of the bag. It was a hunting style knife with a wide blade. Taking an antiseptic wipe out of its package, he carefully wiped down both sides of the blade. With trepidation showing on his handsome face, Sam laid the blade in the fire.
Grabbing another disinfectant wipe, he moved back over to where Callen sat and removed his shirt totally. He took the bandages off the two wounds and wiped them clean with the antiseptic. Callen watched quietly as Sam performed his administrations.
"Have you ever done this before?" Callen asked as he eyed the knife in the fire.
"Once," Sam replied. "It wasn't pretty." He took a branch off the pile of wood and broke off a 12 inch piece before handing it to Callen. "You might want this."
Callen accepted the offering and twirled it with his fingers while Sam rotated back to the fire to check on the blade. It was glowing red and Sam knew it was ready.
"Make it fast," Callen said with a bit of a pleading tone to his voice.
Sam took the knife out of the fire and when he turned around, Callen was waiting with the stick between his teeth. He wished Callen would close his eyes or at least look away, but his partner tracked the progress of the blade towards his flesh. Sam moved quickly but carefully, placing the red-hot blade against the front bullet entry wound in Callen's left shoulder. Callen's body shuddered when the fiery metal touched his skin and the smell of searing flesh met their noses. Sam held the blade firm, counting silently in his mind. When he thought the wound was cauterized, he removed the blade and examined the hole; the bleeding had stopped.
Callen was barely holding his own and Sam had to steady him with his left hand to keep him from toppling over after he removed the knife. A few unbidden tears were making rivulets down Callen's dirt covered face. Sam reached out, wrapped his arm around Callen's head and drew G's forehead against his own chest. Callen didn't struggle in Sam's comforting embrace.
They stayed like that for a few moments until finally Sam pushed Callen back up and looked deep into his pain-wracked blue orbs. "We have to do the back one too," he said quietly.
In way of an answer, Callen searched for the stick he had removed from his mouth and held it up. Sam nodded and replaced the knife in the fire. He wiped his own sweating forehead on the base of his shirt. It hurt him to cause such agony in his partner even if he knew it was probably saving his life.
This time the minute the hot blade touched the exit wound, Callen passed out because as hard as Sam tried, he couldn't keep the blade from touching the edge of one of the whip slashes. By the time he was done counting and the wound was sealed, Sam was almost in tears. But he fought them back; he had to finish up. Knowing infection was still a big risk, Sam got out more pads and swabbed the area thoroughly with disinfectant again. Even though he was passed out, Callen let out a small moan which let Sam know he was feeling the pain.
Sam made a decision which wasn't going to be popular with his partner when he found out, but Sam didn't care; it was the right thing to do. Going back to the medical kit he removed two syringes, one full of morphine and one of Maxolon; the first would dull the pain and the second quell the nausea. Loosening Callen's jeans, he pulled them down enough to expose a section of the cheek into which, after he swabbed the area, he quickly injected the two needles.
As Sam cleaned up, he kept watch on the time. About fifteen minutes after he had injected the morphine, it started to take effect; Callen's breathing steadied and he slipped into a peaceful sleep.
After making sure Callen was wrapped in the blanket, Sam moved back to his spot on the far side of the fire again. He was mentally and physically drained after what they had both just gone through. He closed his eyes to catch few hours of sleep before dawn.