*Barrel's POV*
I was lying next to Gonzales, doing a few sit-ups myself, when there was a scream from Mayo. All at once, I collapsed down, and stopped doing my sit-ups. "Is he alright?," Gonzales asked. I shrugged. "I have no idea," I said. "You keep going, while I go check on him." I gave Gonzales's still-exposed abdomen an airy pat, and ran up to the grunt closet.
When I opened the door, I was greeted with Mayo lying on his side, blood seeping through the shirt covering his waist. I gasped, and quickly, I darted over to him, and knelt down. "What happened here, my little one?," I asked gently.
*Mayo's POV*
I opened my eyes to see Barrel looming over me. "I-I...was trying t-to fight a grunt when it at-tacked me," I sobbed. "Ohh, I'm so sorry, my little one," Barrel whispered. "I feel so bad now. I should've told you; when you fight grunts, you need a weapon." He looked over to the sword rack, and I sniffled.
"You must be in a lot of pain," he said. "I'll be right back - I'll get something to put on that cut." Barrel got off the floor, and left the room for a quick minute. When he came back, he held a small bottle of clear liquid, a vial, and a syringe. I shuddered as he knelt down beside me once again.
Barrel reached over, unbuttoned my shirt, and gently pulled it off. Then, without touching anything, he looked the cut over. "Ouch, that looks pretty nasty," he said. Barrel took the liquid and the rag, and got the rag a little wet.
"B-Barrel, you don't have to help. I'll be okay," I insisted.
"No, no, my little one. I don't want you to suffer. That's a very deep cut, and it looks like it hurts," Barrel said.
"Y-yeah...but that stuff...it looks like it stings."
"It will sting, my little one. But it'll be all over before you know it. Papa Barrel's going to be very gentle."
At that, Barrel took the damp rag, and gently pressed it to the cut. When he did, I let out a little "ahh!" With his free hand, Barrel gently stroked my exposed shoulder blades. "I'm sorry. I know it stings, but I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered.
Once a good amount of the blood had stopped, Barrel removed the rag. Then he filled a syringe with the medicine in the vial. "This is going to hurt quite a bit, my little one," Barrel said. "I don't mean to hurt you, and the pain will go down quick as a little bunny."
As he brought the syringe down to my waist, light bounced off the needle, and created a sparkle. I closed my eyes to keep from panicking. The needle pierced my skin, and Barrel pushed down on the plunger. A sore, striking pain rushed through my body for a couple of seconds. But then the pain died down, and I started to feel calmer.
Barrel took me in his arms, and placed me into his lap. "I'm so, so sorry this happened, my little one," he whispered, stroking me gently. "I should've been more careful. Papa should've known. I'm here now. Shhh, I'm here now, my baby boy. Papa's got you. It's very late at night, you should try to go to sleep with the medicine."
I whimpered, and closed my eyes. But before I did, I saw a tear well in the corner of Barrel's eye. It streamed down his cheek, and landed on my wound. Even tough guys like Barrel need their cries, I told myself, falling into a deep sleep.