CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE: Guilt
When I had regained consciousness, I had been back on the Victoria Punk, in my bed.
My initial response was to immediately try to get to Kid, but both Dive and UK insisted I just wait, and let Wire do his job of trying to treat him.
Nobody had been fatally wounded, which was honestly astounding, though we had all left the battle brandishing new scars, both physical and mental.
I had ended up scarring my hand pretty good when I had cauterized Kid's wound, the large burn now wrapped with gauze and treated with topical ointment, the same went for my thumb. My back had a few nasty cuts and gouges too, but that didn't matter.
Locating Killer was my next task, and even though I had been pointed in the right direction, to the study, he wouldn't answer me, the door locked. I really did try to leave him be, but after a couple of hours, until nightfall, I couldn't take it anymore, and decided to pick the lock.
Slowly, I pushed the door open, the only light in the room coming from the moon behind me, and the lit lantern hung on the outside of the doorway. Unhooking the lantern and holding it up, I entered.
"Killer..?" My voice was tired, and hardly there, but I heard a slight shift, moving the light to see Killer hunched over on the ground, his back against the wall.
Has he been sitting there this entire time..?
"Hold on...You haven't been treated..? Fucking hell..." I approached quickly, but Killer barely moved, his arm only moving to cover the split in his helmet.
"M'fine..." He muttered, sounding equally as exhausted and hoarse as I did, if not worse.
Taking note of the dried blood down the front of his shirt, I glanced to the desk, seeing that someone had left the medical equipment to get him patched up, but it remained untouched.
"Killer, you're not fine. You need to be checked out-"
"I'm not the one who lost an arm." He cut me off, curling in on himself more, boots shifting closer together by the heels. "I'm fine. I'll live. I didn't lose parts. I should have, it shouldn't have been him, but here I am...Just fine..."
He's being swallowed by guilt...
Swallowing back the urge to cry again, I set the lantern down by his side and went to the desk, gathering all I could carry before returning and kneeling down in front of him.
"You have a head wound. D..Do you really think that Kid would be okay with you refusing to look after yourself right now?"
Killer's fist closed in on itself tightly, but after a few moments he let his arm drop, his covered head rising, just a little.
"Have you heard anything..?" He asked hopefully, and I hated that I had to shake my head.
"Only that he'll live..." I looked down at my knees before internally slapping myself to get my head screwed on straight. "Will you let me take a look, or would you prefer it if I went and got Heat, or someone else? I know you're not comfortable with showing your face..."
He didn't respond for a bit, just huddled there, the epitome of guilt and exhaustion.
"I...don't care if it's you...I don't think I could ever be uncomfortable if it's you..." He spoke so quietly I hardly heard him, but I didn't bring attention to that.
Hesitantly, once I was sure he had actually given me the go-ahead, I reached to take hold of his helmet, slowly and very, very carefully pulling it from his head, not wanting to cause him any further injury considering the state of it.
Once his hair fell back into place, and I had put the helmet aside, it took the final shreds of my willpower to not stare in awe.
His fringe was long, almost to the point of covering his eyes, which were framed by dark, full lashes. His lips were inked a deep, royal blue, or perhaps purple, it was hard to tell in the flickering light of the lantern.
Though his eyes...When he looked up at me, I recalled the time he had told me what colour they were. He hadn't been lying. They were indeed blue. A sad, pain-filled blue that had my breath catching in my throat.
Snapping myself out of it as quickly as possible, I started to prepare to clean the wound. I didn't need to ask for him to tilt his head so I could get a closer look once I had a wad of gauze dowsed in rubbing alcohol.
He had some deep cuts from the torn metal of his helmet right above his temple, against his hairline. It was already surrounded by dark, painful bruising.
"You need stitches..." I murmured, gently dabbing away the coagulated blood.
"Just leave it. It'll close on its own." He was being stubborn, but just because I was run down and injured myself didn't mean I wasn't up to the task of beating him at his own game.
"No way, no how. I'm not great at it, but I'm stitching this up whether you like it or not. You can bitch about it later."
I'm not leaving you to go through this alone.
Once I'd cleaned it up enough, I tossed the gauze over my shoulder and picked up the lantern with one hand, using the other to lift Killer's head up by his chin.
"Close one eye and follow the light." Begrudgingly, he did as I told him, and I studied his pupil, doing the same for the other. "I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty damn certain you've got a concussion. You feel dizzy, or like you're going to throw up?"
Killer just shrugged, averting his eyes even though I still held him by the chin. He'd definitely be feeling self conscious, and uncomfortable without his helmet, but what was consuming him was guilt, and regret. I knew that feeling all too well.
Not caring about the floor, I tipped some rubbing alcohol over my hands, wrappings and all, and then over the needle I'd need to use, taking my time trying to thread it with the nylon.
I'm in no shape to be doing this, but he's leaving me no choice...
Nudging his legs apart, I knelt between them, glad that he was at least letting me pivot his head to do what I needed to do. He flinched, sucking in a sharp hiss when I made the first stitch.
"Sorry...This isn't gonna feel great..." I apologised sincerely.
"No shit..."
He sat well for the duration, and I was able to do a semi-decent jobp, if I were to say so myself. They weren't pretty, or even very neat, but they'd serve their purpose, which was all that really mattered when all was said and done.
"There. I think that should do it." I announced, double checking that the gauze patch I had placed over it wasn't going to fall off. "I don't think you should wear your helmet for a while, at least not until we can get it fixed..."
I knew he wouldn't like that, but he didn't complain or refuse like I thought he would. He just stared at the far corner, lips pulled tight.
"Alright. I'm actually fine now, so you can go." I often had a hard time reading Killer, but now that I could see his face, he was like an open book.
"I...don't think I can leave you alone right now..." I said softly, remaining in my place between his knees. He hunched a little more, jaw clenching and brow furrowing beneath his shaggy fringe.
"I said I'm fine. What more do you wa-"
I think I took both of us off guard when I threw my arms around him, being mindful of his newly patched wound as I buried my face into the crook of his neck. He stiffened considerably, pressing further back into the wall.
"It isn't your fault, s..so stop blaming yourself..."
None of us were ready. It isn't on you.
"You did your best...We did our best, a..and Kid did his best...We just...just need to work on ourselves a bit...so just stop it..." I hated seeing him like this. Fragile and pained. It didn't suit him at all. It wasn't the Massacre Soldier Killer that I knew and loved.
Slowly, almost as though he thought I would bite, Killer wrapped his arms around me, but once they had, he dragged me as close as possible, curling in around me.
"It...it's my job to protect him...Ever since we were kids, thats been my purpose...I couldn't do that, and now-"
"And now we just have to pick ourselves up and get stronger. That's it. K..Kid knows what you'd do for him, and he'd do the same for you. You did everything right." I wasn't going to let him keep talking about himself like that. I had seen what he was capable of, and how far he'd go to protect the people he cares about.
There was no way I was going to tell Killer that it kind of hurt, how hard he was holding onto me. He needed it, and I needed it, too. The support.
"You...saw it happen...didn't you..?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
Flashes of Kid's arm, falling to the ground, and the amount of blood that sprayed from where it had once been attached flashed through my mind, and I hid myself away more in his shoulder.
"Mmhmm..."
I'm pretty sure I still have his blood on me...
Killer's hold wasn't as tight anymore, and I clung to the warmth he emitted. The proof that he was alive. Something I had doubted back in that battle. Something I couldn't confirm with Kid just yet.
"You really need to go rest, (Y/N)...I promise, I'm okay. This can't be comfortable..." Killer sighed, but I didn't pull back, and neither did he.
"I...don't wanna be alone right now..." I knew that if I left and returned to my room, all I'd do is pace until morning, when I'd just camp out outside of the infirmary once more. I think Killer knew that as well, because he'd probably do the same.
"Alright...Lay yourself down, then." Killer peeled me off of him and guided me so my head rested in his lap, his hand absently beginning to stroke my hair, skipping over tangles that were likely caked with blood.
My body hurt all over, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. It was going to be a long night, but at least neither of us would have to take it on alone.
"Do you think Kid'll be okay..?" I asked quietly. I wanted his opinion on the matter. I knew Kid would survive, but being okay was an entirely different matter.
"Physically, yeah..." Killer started, letting his free hand rest over my upper arm, his fingers fidgeting with themselves somewhat nervously, which told me he was thinking about something he likely wouldn't say out loud.
"...but when it comes to his pride...we're just gonna have to wait and see..."
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***Killer hours because I said so.
Next Time: Pridefall***
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