by JF Holland
“What’s wrong?” Lana asked, hands twisting together in her lap in anxiety as she perched on the edge of the bed.
“He’s very dehydrated and anaemic.”
“He needs fluids, and blood?” she asked, Questions helped to focus her mind and take it away from Balin’s dreadful condition.
“Yes, maybe you should look away now.”
“Why?” she asked Thomas suspiciously, her gaze sweeping over Balin, trying to figure out what he’d seen that she hadn’t.
“I want to check his legs and his stomach. Sam filled me in on what was done to him.”
Lana swallowed the bile that rose up her throat at the thought of how they’d found. Her mind going back to what she herself had been witness to through Balin’s mind. She turned her head, not wanting to see the visual real-time proof of his torture.
“Jesus Christ,” she heard Thomas hiss behind her and turned, at hearing the shock in his tone. She’d not really been looking when they’d had him in the shower earlier. Seeing it now, she wished to God that she hadn’t now either. His lower legs had the tibia poking through the skin, the jagged edge of the white bone a macabre white against his dull, lifeless grey skin. His present skin tone a far cry from his usually healthy olive colour. The washed out, faded colour a testament to his torture and blood loss. Her stomach truly rebelled as Thomas then lowered the sheet which had been covering his abdomen.
“Fuck me,” Thomas mumbled, as he unwound the bandage from around Balin’s stomach, then hissed. After pouring the herbal mixture Agatha had made up and brought to them while in the shower, Sam had replaced the filthy makeshift bandage with a new one. With her having her back to him in the shower, so that they could rest his legs on her shoulders as he’d been unable to stand, she’d not seen the extent of the injury
The internal viscera of his muscle was visible within the gaping, jagged wound. It was reminiscent of an open mouth, screaming and her stomach rolled, nausea climbing up her throat.
“Now where did I put my bag?” Thomas murmured, covering the wound up again with the bandage and pressing on it, trying to stem the bleeding. Although, now it down to more of a trickle.
“A bag? You didn’t have a bag with you when you came in,” Agatha informed him from the far corner of the room as she pulled out green candles from her own black velvet sack.
“Damn, I must have left it outside. Lana, do you think you could put pressure on here for me?”
“Me?” she squeaked, feeling very squeamish in that moment.
“I need my…” Thomas’s words were cut off as the door once again opened. Douglas stepped inside, followed by a shorter middle aged man.
“Thomas, this be Elliot, the local doctor?” Douglas asked and the newcomer nodded.
“Yes, I’m Elliot.” He smiled kindly. “And I do believe this is yours.”
“My bag,” Thomas sighed. “Thank you. I don’t remember putting it down.”
“You left it on the doorstep, but never mind, you have it now. Have you done your initial examination?” Elliot asked him hands behind his back, his eyes doing a quick sweep over Balin.
“Yes, he’s lost a lot of blood and is dehydrated. There are open fractures to both lower extremities and a jagged, open wound to the abdomen. The initial incision,” his mouth twisted cynically as he said this. “Let’s just say it’s deep and goes from his pelvis, to just before his sternum, bypassing the navel. I was just looking for my bag so I could use some iodine to sterilise the area, and check for internal damage,” Thomas explained.
“What about infection by cross contamination?” Thomas frowned at Elliot’s words.
“Do you know what we are?” Thomas asked Elliot, shoulders rigid. When Elliot nodded at his words, Thomas’s frame seemed to deflate as he relaxed. “We don’t normally get infections, so can’t pass anything on. Although, stating that, Balin does seem to have an infection that’s settled in.”
“You can’t get infections?
“No, not normally. But Balin is sporting a pretty impressive fever at present. I’ve never seen it in a shifter before. Then again, a shifter would normally shift to help heal himself.
“He couldn’t shift?” Elliot asked, surprised.
“No,” Thomas growled. “That bitch had him chained with be-spelled manacles to stop him.”
“Okay, thoughts?”
“I need to check that there’s no major internal damage first, then I’ll set him up with a double cannula.”
“Fluids and blood?”
“Yes.”
“What about antibiotics?”
“They won’t work on our kind.”
“So how are you going to treat the infection?”
“I can’t, all I can do is the minimum. I just need to give him what his body is lacking, and hope he can then shift to help himself along in the healing process.”
“So it’s minimum invasion, and a case of waiting?” Elliot asked, frowning, his hands now in his pockets as he looked over at Balin, mouth grim.
“No. Then these ladies are going to work their magic.”
“Magic?” Elliot asked, turning to look at both Agatha and Sophia with interest.
“Literally,” Agatha smiled and Elliot’s brow rose, then he turned back to Thomas.
“I don’t see a cooler, how are you going to give him blood without a supply?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Lana spoke up from her seat on the edge of the bed.”
“A mates blood is the very best solution in his case. Balin’s body has taken a lot of damage, and a mate will be a perfect match for him.”
“Would family not be better?” queried Elliot.
“No, not with shifters. Mates are a better match, as they are compatible in every way. Their body chemistry - once the binding has kicked in – over-writes anything else. Lana is his best chance at a recovery. Well, Lana and the ladies here.”
“So, this will heal him?”
“We can hope, as this is the only thing we can do for him. Modern medicine doesn’t compete with a shifter’s genetics. A transfusion and re-hydrating him will work better than anything else out there, maybe a bit of pure silver also. Well, that, and the ladies magic.”
“Silver? You can put silver into the body? I thought…” Elliot stopped midsentence, beaming in embarrassment as Thomas grinned at him.
“Been reading fiction doc?” Thomas laughed with a shake of his head. “We are not cursed or any of the other baloney the media and movies portray us as. We just live a hell of a lot longer than humans, although we all came from the same original organisms. We just evolved a little differently, that’s all.”
“So, silver?”
“Due to the properties of pure silver, it’s malleable, and as it’s of the earth it has many good things in it for our kind. Maybe another time I’ll give you more insight into us and its benefits if you’d like?” Elliot nodded enthusiastically, his eyes lighting with curiosity and Thomas grinned, “For now, let’s just say that silver and magic are our form of medicine. Silver, once it enters the blood stream, speeds up recovery.”
Nodding, again, Elliot looked around the room. “Okay, let’s get the boy sorted.” Lana smiled despite herself at hearing a nearly two-hundred-year old man called a boy.
She moved up the bed a little and ran her hand through Balin’s still damp hair. It helped calm her as she desperately tried to stop any of her thoughts being shared with him. She couldn’t believe the mess Maisie had made of him. He looked as if he’d been to war. His legs as damaged as if he’d been in the direct line of fire from an explosion they were so smashed. As for his stomach, dear God, the skin looked like a piece of tenderised steak as he’d be sliced and beaten so severely.
“Are you going to start the infusion before, or after you check for internal injuries?” Elliot asked, as he crouched down and searched through the contents of the bag on the floor.
“After, all I need for now is some protection for the bed, and some clean gauze to co
ver him again afterwards.”
“Good idea,” Elliot said, rummaging through Thomas’s bag. He pulled out and placed paper sheeting over Balin’s groin, tucking it beneath the bed sheet to protect it from getting messed up. He then placed one on his left side, and moving around the bed, popped another one on his right side. Lana stood for a minute while he gently pushed it beneath him. She then sat back again, her hand once more running through Balin’s hair, needing the contact.
Next, Elliot dropped some sterile packs in various sizes on the bed by Balin’s hip. Large gauze pads, a couple of 20 gauge cannulas for the infusion; complete with a tubing to carry the fluids, and lastly, a bag of saline. He then searched around him for somewhere that he’d be able to hang the bag of saline from, as there wasn’t a stand. Finding a light fitting on the wall, he grabbed a rubber tourniquet out of the bag, and used it to set up a makeshift hanger for the fluid filled bag. Once satisfied it was positioned as required for flow, he moved back to check the internal damage with Thomas.
“Lana, I suggest you look away now,” Thomas informed her gently, as he turned to Elliot. “Can you grab me a retractor and my flashlight, please.” Elliot took them out and placed them on the bed beside Balin. “We also need gloves, saves washing, and infection, in your case.” Thomas leaned down and grabbed a couple of packs out of the bag, dropping them on the bed. He then tossed a pack to Elliot as he ripped his own open and donned them. Next, he opened several of the sterile packages, thanking Agatha, over his shoulder as she quietly placed a wastepaper basket beside him on the floor.
“Ready?” Elliot nodded, retractor in one gloved hand and flashlight in the other.
Lana turned her back, staring out of the window, jaw clenched as she heard them working behind her. The sounds of them messing inside of Balin’s stomach was horrendous, and her own stomach rebelled. She could hear squelching sounds and murmuring as the discussed their findings while performing their check. Swallowing, she had to bite back a cry as Balin moaned, although he didn’t move or gain consciousness.
A lone tear slid over Lana’s bottom lid and tracked down her face.
“He isn’t aware,” Sophia told her, as she crouched before the young woman she’d helped raise.
“He’s so damaged, Aunt Sophia,” Lana hiccupped.
“I know honey,” she told her with a sad smile, brushing her hair off her face. “We’ll fix him, you’ll see. In a day or two he’ll be back to driving you crazy.”
“Promise,” she asked her quietly as another tear slid down her cheek.
“I promise. Now, I think they’re about done,” she told her, giving her a quick hug and wiping the tears away. “Take a breath, and settle back on the bed beside him, you need to do your part now,” she told her, squeezing her hand.
With a weak smile, Lana carefully settled herself back on the bed beside Balin, averting her gaze from all the bloody paper, gloves and gauze, Elliot was presently wrapping in the paper sheeting.
She sighed as she caught a glimpse of his stomach which now held a slightly yellow hue from the iodine, visible beneath the clean gauze.
“Is there much damage?” She asked the men, clearing her throat, eyes continually drawn to Balin’s stomach. “What about his legs, are you not going to do anything about them?” she queried, confused as she realised they’d done nothing with them. They were still covered with the sheet.
“That’s better left to his own body,” Thomas told her. “I don’t want to cause more damage by manipulating the bones.”
“His body will fix that much damage?” Lana asked.
“How much do you know about shifter anatomy?” Thomas asked, coming around and sitting beside her lower legs.
“Not much I’m afraid.”
Elliot moved away, giving them space, leaning against the wall beside the door. Then spotting the chair near the bay window; to her right, moved over to it and took a seat.
“When we shift, our whole musculoskeletal system alters. If I tried to re-set Balin’s legs, I could stop his body from being able to do that.”
“How? Surely…”
“Lana, trust me. I’m sure you don’t want an anatomy lesson, but once he’s stronger, he’ll be able to shift. Once he gets to that stage, his own body will pull the bones back into the correct alignment and heal the skin.”
“But mum said dads still limping as he’s hurt…”
“I’m not saying it’s an instant fix, not with so much damage. Balin may also have a limp for a while. But with the right nutrition, blood and rest, after a couple of shifts, that will vanish. The bones will strengthen each time they re-shape until the injury is no longer there.”
“So he’s going to be okay?”
“I’m making no promises here Lana. He’s taken a lot of damage. But with the right treatment, Agatha and your, aunt?” he queried the last one with not being familiar with Sophia. Lana nodded.
“Wiccan magic is very strong, especially when it comes to healing. So, let’s just say that I’m hopeful he’ll make a full recovery. There are very few things that can kill a shifter, but saying that, it does happen occasionally,” he informed her. In Balin’s case, we’ll do everything in our power to stop that. It just won’t be overnight fix, okay?”
Lana gave him a tentative smile, nodding her understanding. “Right, Elliot, are you ready to get this show on the road?”
“Yes, do you want me to help set up the transfusion first?”
“It’ll probably be easier if you work on the saline and I’ll sort out the transfusion. That way we’ll not be hindering each other. Elliot nodded, getting up and heading over to the left hand side of the bed.
“Thomas?” Lana asked, as he bent over her arm, fastening a tourniquet just above her elbow.
“Hmm?” he responded, mind on the task as he pulled on a clean pair of gloves.
“Was there a lot of internal damage?”
“Not much, just skin, and muscle damage. She’d managed to bypass every organ. A miracle really,” he informed her as he extracted the cannula out of its packaging. “Now hold your arm still, slight scratch and then we’ll be good to go. Are you ready?” Nodding, she then winced as he pushed the cannula into the vein he’d found after tapping it with a finger. Extracting the needle, he threw it into the wastepaper basket, then taped the butterfly plastic in place; just below the crease of her elbow. He took off the cap of the cannula, and used a syringe of clear liquid inserted it into the cannula. He flushed it out to make sure it was working and clear before attaching the tubing - which would take the blood from her to Balin. Once flushed, he put a peg on the tubing - so that it didn’t begin to flow until it was attached to Balin’s arm. He then changed his gloves and repeated the procedure on Balin. Once the cannula was in place, he flushed his out then injected some silver through it, flushed it again and connected the tubing. Once happy, he then removed the peg and watched to make sure the blood began to flow between them.
“I’ll need to keep my eye on this. I don’t want you giving him more than a pint, I don’t want to weaken you. I just have to try to judge that we don’t take more than would be taken if you donated it.”
“Will that be enough to help him?” Lana asked, laying her head on the pillow beside Balin’s.
“It will help. Especially when he’s re-hydrated. We’ll also put him on an iron rich diet.” Nodding, she closed her eyes, fingers resting besides Balin’s.
Elliot had finished setting up the Saline drip by the time Thomas had finished, so he adjusted the flow. He needed to make sure that it wasn’t pushed into his system too quickly, thus causing complications.
“Ladies how long do you need for your healing ceremony?” Thomas asked.
“About thirty minutes,” Agatha answered as Sophia began to place the green candles, one in each corner of the room.
“Perfect. Elliot are you staying?”
“I am, well, as long as the ladies don’t mind my inquisitiveness?”
“Not at all,” Ag
atha informed them with a smile as she pulled a bag of rune stones out of her black, velvet medicinal bag.
“Elliot, give me a shout once they’ve finished. We’ll need to disconnect Lana from Balin at that point.”
“Will do.”
With that, Thomas, moved his bag out of their way, and picking up the wastepaper basket, left the room.
Chapter Four
O nce Thomas had left, Elliot sat back in the chair by the window to observe. Lana closed her eyes and listened to Balin’s shallow breathing beside her. She feared moving and dislodging the tubing, so edged her hand over the top of the bed, stroking the tops of his fingers with her own as he lay motionless.
Movement and murmurs caught her attention, so opening her eyes she watched Agatha and Sophia, heads together. They then linked arms, and began walking around the room, lighting each of the four green candles that Sophia had placed earlier; one in each corner of the room. They were whispering, what to her ears, sounded like a prayer. It was spoken softly before each candle was lit, followed by a slight, deferential bow as each flame sprung to life. Next, they approached the bed, Agatha, by Balin’s left side, Sophia, near his feet, then they both took a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Lana, we need you to lie still and quiet beside him please, no movements or questions,” Sophia told her.
“We need silence and calm for this to be of any benefit to him. I promise he will start to breathe a little easier once we’re done,” Agatha added, giving her a gentle smile.
Lana dipped her chin, and continued to silently watch them. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Elliot leaning forward in his chair so he didn’t miss anything.
“Elliot, may I suggest that you bring your chair closer, possibly the other side of the window. That way, you’ll be able to see. But, please, complete silence. It’s imperative, so that we may concentrate,” Sophia murmured, her voice soft, and low.