Don't Be Scared

S.1 E.11 ~ SoM (Ch. 67)

A deep grunt beside them made the two drop anything medical or light-bringing to trade it for their weapons. Cassandra's limping form and 10K's tall body was shaded under the direct hit of the moon's rays.

"Ah, crap. What happened to her?" Doc asked but turned his head back to face (Y/N) once the threat had been revealed.

Her (S/C) eyelids were no longer open, nor did they seem like they were trying to open.

"We were surrounded by a horde. She fell. What's wrong with her?" 10K asked, making an effort to move his body faster as Cassandra and him made it closer to the three.

"One thing at a time, please." Doc huffed, pleading to God to give him a blunt or something to ease the tension in between his shoulders.

He was more worried about (Y/N)'s well-being. Did they even have the supplies?

"Hey, hey. Wake up." Doc gently slapped the young woman's paling cheek.

Not even a soft red tint colored her cheeks from the light abusing, forcing Doc's breath to hitch in worry. Would she make it if they had to go find a house to raid?

If something happened to her, who'd tell Mack about this? Doc dug around until he found a familiar roll of gauze. Cotton balls were the next needed item.

When he revealed the alcohol, they saw how low they really were on this particular item. They needed this source to decrease the chances of her getting serious infection. Not to mention, Cassandra needed the alcohol as well.

10K and Cassandra were at (Y/N)'s head, watching Doc, who was stressing and having to call important shots.

"Her wounds just started to open during the night. I think she moved too much and rubbed them together." Warren shared the theory that didn't seem to help the situation much.

"10K, just keep applying pressure to Cassandra's leg." Doc ordered, trying his best to efficiently remove the soaked bandages and keep Cassandra from also draining of her own life.

'One thing at a time.' Doc kept repeating in his mind.

Awkwardly, 10K leaned over and pressed his hand on top of the bleeding thigh. Cassandra grunted in pain, biting her lip to try suppressing the scream. Warm liquid flowed in between 10K's less warmed fingers.

"Warren, we don't have enough supplies. I've got just enough for one of them." Doc admitted the reality of the situation, already using half of the alcohol on (Y/N)'s whole arm.

Warren chewed her lip, thinking of any kind of alternative.

"How bad is she?" 10K asked as Doc decided whether or not to take heed of (Y/N)'s earlier suggestion: stitches.

"Bad. Too much blood lost. How did you not notice this sooner?" Doc question, not trying to intentional offend the leader in anyway.

He, literally, wanted to know how Warren did not notice this much blood leaking from her wrists sooner.

"She rolled over and started to grunt." Warren recalled only a few minutes ago.

Oh, how things can escalate so quickly. Doc decided that they'll just have to stitch her up next time. If, you know, there'd be a next time to perform that kind of basic procedure.

'I could really use a strong shot of whi--Whiskey!' Doc quickly shot his head up at Warren when the thought pressed against his brain.

"Do we have any more vodka?"

Doc started to tightly wrap the first wrist up, hoping that'll prevent further bleeding. Something's got to work; they'll do whatever it takes right about now. Maybe, they can cleanse Cassandra's wound as well.

"I.." Warren looked back at the parked go-cart, noticing a half empty bottle, "Yeah, why? Doc, this isn't the time for a drink."

"I wish it was. Go grab it and pour it on Cassandra's cut." Doc turned to look at the two beside him, "It's gonna sting like a bitch, but you're gonna have to make it work."

Doc finished wrapping (Y/N)'s right wrist up. Her breathing was still shallow; her eyes were still closed and the skin covering her muscles and bones were still ice cold. Since Warren was away to get the vodka, Doc moved to get on the other side.

Hastily, he moved to release the soggy gauze from her wrist. If Zs weren't already attracted to them, they will be now.

'Not good. Not good.' Doc's heart beat began to race faster every minute he had to waste.

'Is she going to make it?' Kept racing through the sharp shooter's head, staring down at (Y/N)'s blood draining body, 'I left her for a few minutes and this?'

10K didn't notice, but his grip on Cassandra's right thigh began to steadily grow tighter. While Doc was finishing up the bandage removal, Warren returned with Murphy's half drank bottle.

Doc did just a glance at the bottle before focusing back on their Sleeping Beauty, "10K, remove your hand. Warren, pour it all over her thigh and use the rest of the cottons to clean it."

Warren obeyed the closest thing they have to a doctor. Cassandra caused more blood to leak from her plump, tanned lips as she bit down on the flesh harder. Doc poured the remaining alcohol on (Y/N), not being greedy as he did so.

The strong liquid just did reach up to her elbows.

"Find something, anything to wrap up her cuts." Doc ordered, going into a rare doctor mode.

10K and Warren scrambled to find anything to help Cassandra whilst Doc used the last strands of gauze to cover up the exposed wound. He could see glimpses of meat, thanks to the flashlight that Cassandra held in her free hand, but--thankfully--the blood covered much of it.

The thick liquid bled through the first and the second strands of gauze, making Doc worry. By the third wrap, you could see the color began to fade, almost. Doc's eyes went to (Y/N)'s chest, checking on the breathing.

Shallow, still. After he finished up with the gauze, his index and middle finger reached up to her neck, checking on her pulse. Weak but there. Taking a deep breath, he prayed to whoever was up there that they wouldn't need a blood transfusion.

'Next patient.' Doc thought, finally, giving Cassandra the needed attention.

Warren was tightening a piece of cloth around her thigh. Tightly, but not painfully tight.

'What a night.' Doc thought to himself, finally being about to sit back on his butt.

No one died; so that was a big plus.

"How you doin'?" Doc asked, trying to check up on her.

"Painfully breathing." Cassandra muttered, leaning her head against the shoulder of the awkward boy.

"How is she?" 10K asked, feeling the usual uncomfortable sensation whenever a girl touched him.

"Weak. She needs food."

"We've got some of that now." Warren assured herself and the people that surrounded her.

They were all finally able to properly care for a sixteen-year-old's needs in the apocalypse.

"She's gonna be grumpy and sore in the morning." Doc snorted, looking down at the Sleeping Beauty.

"I'll take that over having to lay her body in the dirt." Warren sighed out in relief.

Moments like these counted as relaxation; as odd as it sounds. The moments where everyone was safe and sound, those were times of comfort. The knowledge that everyone she loves was safe filled Warren's whole mind in a state of relaxation.

Truly.

|| Drapetomania ||