TW: DISTURBING CONTENT, GRAPHIC DESCRIBTION OF INJURIES, SUBSTANCE ABUSE, SELF DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVOURS, GRIEF

Chapter 8

Pyromaniac

"You're awfully quiet, Del."

His glance raised up, meeting with her brown eyes, shining gently in the bright light of the medbay lamp. She didn't look too sore, as the Brit expected. Probably the hydrogel dressings and painkillers brought Selin enough relief to not lose her positive spirit.

"And you've been lucky. It's a first degree burn, it will heal within a week or two." Del said quietly, putting his tools aside. "Try to not rip it off by accident while you'll be going to sleep." he pointed at the bandage covering the woman's left shoulder blade. The skin was covered in convexities and concavities creating an unique, though terrifying pattern.

The scars were old, not so old as Del's, but despite that they were still healing. Caglar definitely wasn't helping the process of getting new injuries in that area from time to time.

"I'm used to it, don't worry. The other ones were much worse, I think you know it. We're burned besties, aren't we?" she let out a slight chuckle, putting her shirt back on.

The medic almost dropped the aid kit, snapping at her.

"Don't you dare fucking say that ever fucking again, bitch."

Selin flinched, looking stunned at her friend. She was sure that it was some kind of hallucination from the sedatives or other shit she got injected. Staring like an idiot at the Brit, she blinked a few times, still speechless. True, she knew that Lawson was hot-headed and impulsive, but she couldn't recall one time when he snapped like this at her or any other of their friends. Especially not over such trivial things like that.

"Excuse me? How the hell did you just call me?" she frowned, standing up. Although she was almost head taller than the Brit, she felt somehow… threatened, vulnerable.

"Don't you dare fucking say that ever fucking again." he hissed through his teeth,

"What? Burned besties? Okay, as you wish, but it's still not a goddammit reason to call me a bitch. C'mon Del, I really tolerate your harsh language, but this time you crossed the line." Selin crossed her arms. "I thought we were friends."

She didn't know why she said that. Obviously, they were friends, almost like siblings. She was just… hurt. Although so mild, the insult came unexpectedly, like an ambush. Like a betrayal, knife in her back from her closest ally. The person who she trusted so much to let him take care of her fresh injury. The first person to whom she came after her damn gadget caught on fire again.

Her glance, filled with disappointment and at the same time anger, made Del's look soften. Slowly, the medic relaxed his hands, which were clenched so tightly that the nails dug into the skin, leaving red marks, and the knuckles turned white.

"I…" he started, trying to keep his voice from trembling. "You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." letting out a sigh, he rubbed his face. "I'm sorry, Selin. It's dumb, your injury triggered something in me. I'm so sorry."

"The pulse?" David put the drip bag up on the hanger. "What's his damn pulse, Jack?!"

"Twenty beats per minute."

"This drops even one beat down and he'll die." the doctor cursed under his breath. "How much does he weigh? Seventy? Seventy five?"

His colleague just nodded, struggling with putting the ECG electrodes on.

"This one bag with fluids might not be enough with such extensive burns. He should get a second IV." David swarmed around the ambulance, rummaging through the storage compartments for dressings. "We don't have any more of those?"

"No. We always carry just five of them. We won't have enough of them to cover all of… this." Jack helplessly spreaded his arms.

The man's hands were slightly shaking. The doctor wasn't sure if it was because of seeing their colleague in such a state or rather because of the thought that it could be one of them if Del and doctor Lawson didn't take that damn call first.

"Get him a second IV, another dose of morphine and pentobarbital. Mark, how long until we get to the hospital?!" he called out to their driver.

"Ten minutes tops. I've already called Chelsea and Westminster, their burn unit is getting ready."

"Good. Get that second IV going, Jack."

The man sent him a glare full of emotion, that the doctor couldn't really distinguish. Anger? Disgust?

"Where the hell can I put another IV? His left arm is burned, I won't even touch it. We shouldn't get an IV there, the risk of infection goes up by at least 50% if we do that."

The doctor stood there, truly stunned. What the hell did that comment was supposed to mean? "I won't even touch that". Was the paramedic really disgusted by the injury? Why? It wasn't the first time when they were seeing something like this. Maybe it wasn't the case? Maybe he was disturbed because it was their co-worker, laying right in front of them, right on the edge of dying?

"Then get the second upper on his right arm." he muttered.

The last thing he wanted now was to have the kid awake in the middle of their way to hospital. Not only because he would probably instantly go into shock and try to fight the medics. That wasn't the issue that David Robins was afraid of the most.

He knew Del well, as well as his father. The older man was an amazing doctor, who passed his passion on to his son. The boy barely turned twenty one three months ago, but it didn't make him any less passionate about the work.

Now, he was seeing him like this. Lying on the stretcher, half of his body covered in second and third degree burns. The paramedic's uniform melted with skin, showing red flesh. Though it's been less than twenty minutes since the incident, the bubbles already started forming on the edges of the injuries. Huge blisters filled with colorless serum or yellowish pus. In some places the tissue was peeling itself from the body, revealing more of the vulnerable spots.

The thing that David Robins was afraid of the most was hearing the screams full of agony and begging to end this suffering. At this point he wasn't sure if he was keeping him unconscious for Del or for himself.

The Turk looked at him, not saying a word. What was she supposed to say? A single painful sting in her heart made her realize how stupid she acted, saying it. Her hand gently grabbed Del's chin and made him raise his head.

"It's my fault. I'm not mad and I am sorry. I should have thought beforehands." she murmured. "Are we… good?"

"Yes. Don't apologize, really, it's on me." he shook his head, taking a step back.

"Goddammit, for once don't be so harsh on yourself. You're human and I hit the soft spot. I understand, you had all right to get angry. I shouldn't compare our injuries, even if they were similar. It was the worst two months of my life when my back was healing and I hope you didn't think that I was making fun of this."

"Eight months." he whispered. "It took over eight months for this to heal."

Selin stared at him, silently. Again, she had no idea what to say. The whole situation seemed so… surreal. They were both standing there, looking at each other. Both feeling hurt and scared. Both for different reasons.

"Why did it take so long to heal…?" her voice came out so quiet, more of a silent whisper than an actual question that she wanted to get an answer for.

"Severe infection. When 25% of your body surface is an open wound it's easy to turn into walking biohazard. Or laying in that case." he ran fingers through his hair. Selin knew too well what that meant. Though now, she wasn't sure if she should do anything. As much as she wanted to comfort him, the physical touch felt like a terrible choice.

"The antibiotics didn't work?"

"No. It was a fungus. Those motherfuckers are quite resistant and stubborn to get rid of them. Basically it's eating you from inside, filling the wounds with its own flesh. The tissue rots instead of healing."

"Allah…" her lips clenched in thin line, as she listened.

"Yeah, not the most appealing thing to look at." he closed his eyes. "The doctors had to keep cutting out the rotting flesh and the fungus. But with that they were always also taking out some of the healed tissue. You know, the margin, to not let the infection spread further. The skin that they were grafting to cover the wounds was getting infected and there you had this fucking loop I've been stuck in. Couldn't even look at the ceiling, cause I had to lay on my stomach."

The sound of the opening door made him open his eyes. Seconds later a cold wave hit him, making shivers go through his whole body. His every single muscle tensed, causing pain to spread down his limbs.

"Fuck…" he muttered, half-conciously. He wasn't really aware how much time passed, but maybe it was better that way. Counting hours or even minutes he would go totally crazy, killing the rest of his, fried with sedatives and painkillers, brain.

"I'm sorry. I forgot to not open the door fully." a familiar voice spoke up. The screech of the hospital chair being moved woke him up even more.

"Doesn't matter, I'm cold anyways."

"I can ask the nurse to turn the temperature even more."

"She can't." He cut him off quickly. "I've already asked that. 40 degrees is max how hot it can get."

"I'm sorry." Noah sighed heavily, slowly putting his hand on Del's hair and running his fingers through it. Salvation. The only thing that brought some relief for the man recently.

"As if it was your fault… Aren't you boiling in here?"

"Doesn't matter." the man smiled slightly. "I'm always hot anyways. And your comfort is the only thing that matters to me right now. Really, sweating a little bit is not a high price for you not getting hypothermia."

Del let out a sigh. His neck was hurting and felt numb, but he couldn't even turn it the other way. Last time when he did that, forgetting about the wounds on his left cheek, the tissue stuck to the pillow material. The flesh was covered in serum and ointments completely sticking to the surface. When he tried to raise his head a freshly healed layer of dermis was brutally ripped off his body. He was so glad that they filled him with a horse dose of morphine that he barely remembered that.

"Thanks, Noah. I wish I could hug you."

"You will. Just wait till it heals. I promise we'll make it all up when it is over."

"Promise?"

"Promise, like I said, pretty boy."

The doctor's eyes, although shining brightly, were filled with sorrow. No wonder why, seeing a patient in such a state was itself a traumatizing experience. Not mentioning that the patient was Noah's lover. A person who meant everything to him. His whole world.

A long silence arose between them. Noah understood how constantly exhausted the man was, so he didn't pressure any conversation. Sitting next to his bed might not have seemed like a lot, but the Brit really appreciated the company. It made him feel at least a little bit less alone and drove his thoughts away from all the terrible things and the pain.

"Did… my mom call?" Del asked hesitantly, breaking the silence.

"I'm sorry, no, she didn't…" the man lowered his head. "I think that she might be going through a breakdown. I went to check on her in the flat, but she wasn't there. I asked neighbors if they knew anything, but they all said nothing. Maybe she's at her sister's place?"

Del closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted to hear was Noah excusing his damn not-capable-of-anything mother.

"Doesn't matter. She didn't want to have kids, she didn't want to treat her disorder, she doesn't even want to check on her fucking son in hospital. I don't fucking care anymore." a single tear rolled down his cheek. The doctor quickly got his hand there, wiping it away. The salt on the open wound wasn't the best idea.

"Del, darling…"

"Don't. Just… leave me alone, please. I want to rest."

"Okay." Noah sighed heavily, leaning forward and giving him a kiss on his forehead and running fingers one last time through his hair. "I love you. Please, don't forget about it" he said, before leaving.
Del stared blankly at the man squeezing through the barely ajar door.

"Doesn't matter." he whispered one more time."It all doesn't matter." his eyes closed, as he blacked out again.

She felt her eyes filling with tears. There she was, Selin Caglar on the verge of completely breaking down from listening to one story. Just one single story, she knew about ever since she met Lawson.

She knew about that damn accident. But this? It was something else. Something completely different from her own recovery.

"The only thing that kept me sane back then was music. Good that Spotify existed, I don't think that I would come out of this if not that." his lips formed in a soft, but sorrowful smile. "I am surprised that my brain didn't get completely fried from all of those sedatives and painkillers. Especially having in mind how long after the accident I was taking it. It made me a fucking junkie, being honest." he sighed. "Some people can't exist without morning coffee and I couldn't exist without a morning dose of morphine. You know that feeling of your intestines burning from inside? Like a bug was crawling under your skin, slowly ripping you apart. Every day."

He traced his fingers on the scars on his cheek. Closing his eyes. All those memories hit him like a truck on the highway.

"It got so bad one day…" he continued. "That I started scratching the scars. Scratching so hard that I ripped it open. That fucking addiction was eating me from inside. And I kept scratching until the floor was completely covered in blood. They refused to give me morphine that time. That was… terrible. But you know what's the worst? I sometimes miss that pain. Maybe miss… is a wrong word. You know that feeling when you get used to something annoying that you start to get angry when it's gone? It's the same love-hate relationship, I would say. I realized that when I stopped taking the painkillers. From feeling pain, feeling nothing is worse."

Selin's heart was racing, as she tried her best to hold back the tears. The anger filled her mind. The anger pointed at herself. Although so trivial, she couldn't ease her mind after what she had said. Her own injuries were only her fault. Fault of flaws in her design. Suffering for her own mistakes. Not an accident which nobody saw coming.

"I still have partial feeling on the skin that has been destroyed. Not as much as I used to but it's better than nothing. On the back I feel mostly pressure, arm and cheek both pressure and temperature, sometimes touch. Sometimes my mind tells me to just jump into fucking fire and go thorugh that again… as if it could turn around all my bad decisions. You know… because of that damn accident I've lost two people I've cared for the most in the world." his voice broke for the first time. "And I… I just… I thought many times that I would be better if I die-..."

"Don't finish that sentence, please." Selin's arm gently wrapped around the Brit, pulling him close. "Don't say that, Del." she sobbed.

The man felt his own eyes fill with tears.

"I'm sorry, Sel. I never wanted to make you cry."

"Then don't say that. Never again. Promise." Her hands clenched on his t-shirt as she tightened the embrace.

"I… I promise, Sel."

"I love you, Del. You're my friend, please don't forget about that."

"I won't." he smiled, resting his head on her shoulder, as a single thought crossed his mind.

"It all matters."