The Ides of July // Loki - Book 1 ✓

Chapter 20: Surgery

"IT CAN'T BE," Jane whispers, her brown eyes wide with a mixture of fear and wonder.

Loki steps out of the elevator, and Jane scuttles backward cautiously. He lifts an eyebrow, clearly annoyed with her gaping stare. The wind swirls around them, whipping his black hair into a dreadful mess, and he's certain that the clouds will open up in minutes. Ideally, he would like to skip this awkward introduction and get off the gods forsaken metal platform and into the observatory.

"Wh-why are you here?" Jane says to him.

"Peaceful reasons," Loki snaps. "Unless you continue to try my patience with such nonsense."

He moves swiftly across the creaking metal of the observation deck, motioning with one hand to swing the door open. Jane hastily grabs the file folders she'd dropped on the ground at the sight of him before rushing after him.

"Hey, you can't just go in there!"

Loki ignores her, expertly navigating through the observatory until arriving at one of the ten living spaces reserved for visiting researchers. His long strides greatly outpace Jane's, and she jogs into the room seconds after him only to watch him place Anna gently upon the empty bed.

"Who is she?" Jane asks, resting her hands on her upper thighs as she catches her breath.

"Does it matter?"

He speaks to Jane without taking his eyes off the unconscious woman, carefully moving the heavy black and green overcoat draped over her body to expose her bloodied arm. The bandage is soaked through, and Anna's face is ghostly white from blood loss.

Jane gasps at the sight.

"What happened? Is she ali--"

"For the moment," Loki interrupts her, rapidly losing his patience. "Do you have medical supplies?"

Jane mumbles something to the affirmative, disappearing from the room momentarily only to come thundering back in armed with a large medical kit. While the observatory wasn't used by medical doctors, its remote location necessitated a well-stocked medicine cabinet in case of emergencies. Somehow, she doesn't think this is quite the type of emergency they had planned for.

"Bring it to me," Loki stretches out a hand, taking the case and flipping it open.

Once the bandage is removed, he rummages through the case to reveal a large pair of tweezers and a container of rubbing alcohol.

"Apply pressure here," Loki directs Jane, pointing to the brachial artery so she can reduce the blood flow to the wound.

"You can't just operate on her," Jane starts to argue, only to fall silent at Loki's blazing emerald glare.

He mumbles a few words over her, ensuring that she will remain unconscious, before disinfecting the tweezers. Exhaling slowly, he leans forward and pours alcohol into the wound. Anna's body jerks in reaction, and he's grateful that she isn't awake to feel the burn of alcohol cleansing the wound. Familiarizing himself with the tweezers, he pushes them into the wound in search of the bullet. Beside him, Jane warns him to be wary of the major artery and excessive movements which might cause nerve damage.

The bullet is lodged into the bone, which is cracked from the impact. Working silently, Loki manages to remove the bullet somewhat quickly before dousing the open wound with alcohol a second time. He can do little to heal the major damage of the wound - the cracked humerus and gaping hole - until Anna's body initiates healing on its own. Once his magic is replenished, he should be able to speed up the healing process and prevent lasting damage, but for the meantime he is forced to awkwardly stitch the wound with Jane's assistance and bind it tightly with fresh bandages.

"Here are antibiotics," Jane says, handing him a small container of pills. "She'll need to take these once she wakes up to prevent infection."

Loki nods, wiping the deep scarlet blood from his hands. His pale skin is stained with her blood, and - as Jane continues to pack the medical kit and moves it to the corner of the room should they need it again - he can't help but stare at the deep red caked under his fingernails.

It is not the first time blood has stained his hands, especially after the Battle of New York, but this was far different from battles he has experienced thus far. Far in the mountains of Switzerland, the woman lying unconscious before him is no warrior. This is far beyond anything she deserves.

In spite of everything - her humanity, her impertinent manners, and his disgust with her less than twenty-four hours prior - the stains on his hands filled him with rage.

Now playing: "Dig (How It Feels To Lay In The Soft Light)" by Lost Lander.