maskormenacelogs | [CLOSED] Shanks for the memories

[Any ordinary human would be dead by now. It's only by virtue of his power that Jesse's still awake, and it's an agonizing experience to be conscious when his body should by all rights be deceased. The strain of teleporting pushes him over some edge, his muscles seizing and sending a fresh wave of blood pouring from his mouth. He gags and chokes, numb fingers clawing and clinging to Joel like that's going to somehow keep him in this world. Like he can keep living if he just holds on tight enough.

Once that wave passes, he manages to pull some air into his lungs, gasping as if he's been drowning. He's still not regenerating fast enough, and that's going to be the case as long as he's losing blood. They need to stop it. He manages a single word:]

C-Cauterize...

[Joel must know how.]

[ So much blood. So much fucking blood. Joel stops slapping Jesse's cheek to compress trembling hands to the oozing wounds on Jesse's stomach and chest, smearing his hands with fresh blood. The gasping, gurgling, wheezing noises coming from Jesse's chest and throat, with blood bubbling out with drooling saliva from his mouth as he claws at Joel, makes Joel's panic spike more. He's trying to keep it together but this whole situation is making past devastating traumas he spends his time fiercely suppressing to come flooding to the surface.

He's seen Jesse heal from worse. Why the hell is he taking so long to heal now? Jesse needs to focus, damn it! ]

C'mon, c'mon, focus. [ And then Jesse chokes that word out. ] There's no time to--

[ No time to prep a knife hot enough to do that, is what Joel is going to say. But maybe Jesse is right. Maybe...

Taking his blood smeared hands off Jesse's wounds, Joel snatches at the collar of Jesse's shirt and rips it open like it's little more than paper to look at his wounds. He hurriedly peels the blood-soaked material away from Jesse's chest-- ]

Jesus.

[ Joel draws in a sharp breath, cold alarm washing across his face. Deep, ugly gashes seeping rapidly with blood all across Jesse's abdomen and chest. Swallowing hard, Joel immediately starts fumbling his bloodied hands into Jesse's trousers pockets for a lighter, quickly gives up and scoops Jesse's limp body up into his arms again. He staggers to his feet and rushes Jesse through the living room to the kitchen. where he sets Jesse down on the island counter. He quickly and carelessly shoves the fruit bowl and mess cluttered on the surface away, sending them scattering and crashing to the kitchen floor to make room.

Once he's got Jesse lying sprawled on the counter, Joel snatches Jesse's face in his hand and forces Jesse to look at him. His other hand is slapping Jesse's cheek again, quick, sharp and urgent. ]

C'mon, stay with me.

[Jesse can feel himself slipping. Sheer force of will is the only thing keeping his heart pumping, and even with all of his power focused on that task, his pulse is slow and irregular. By the time he's on the kitchen counter, his vision's gone blurry and he's being dragged out of consciousness toward a darkness that would be so much more comfortable if he didn't know what was waiting for him on the other side of it.

Joel's hand on his face draws him back to the world of the living, wide eyes staring half-blind as he fights to breathe. He's lost track of what he's supposed to be doing here, reaching for Joel because he feels like he's being taken somewhere and all he knows is that he doesn't want to go alone.]

C'mon, Jesse, stay with me.

[ Joel's voice wavers roughly despite almost shouting at Jesse. He snatches Jesse's hand and briefly squeezes it desperately, then throws his hand aside to snatch at Jesse's body, to force him to roll more onto his side to stop him from choking on his own blood. The metallic smell of blood is almost overpowering, horribly familiar.

He doesn't want to leave Jesse's side but he's going to have to. He hurries across to the cooktop and ignites the gas burner, which he leaves burning on the highest setting, then rushes across to the drawers in wild search of a broad knife or a metal spatula, something, anything. Loud, frantic rummaging fills the kitchen until he unearths a large carving knife with a thick handle, which he takes straight across to the burner. He sets the blade down over the burner, then he's back at the drawers in search of a hand towel. He grabs out a handful and slaps them down on the island counter beside Jesse before checking on the knife. When the blade starts glowing red is when it'll be ready. Feels like it's taking ages. ]

Jesse? Jesse?

[ Again, he's slapping Jesse's face before taking Jesse's head in his shaky hands to force Jesse to look at him, almost shaking him to make him stay conscious. Joel grabs up one of the hand towels. ]

Open your mouth, c'mon. [ Shoving the towel against Jesse's mouth. ] Bite down on this. C'mon, open up.

[Jesse hardly understands what's happening, only distantly aware as his body's manipulated. The pain is transcendent, arteries squeezed dry so that whatever isn't numb is aching so bad he can't tell where the wounds stop and the rest of him starts. Jesse doesn't realize Joel ever leaves his side, and when he returns with the towel, Jesse doesn't consciously open his mouth. His jaw just goes slack thanks to Joel's prying.]

[ The hand towel is shoved into Jesse's mouth to prevent him biting down on his tongue. Blood oozes into the material from Jesse's mouth like slow creeping death. Joel dashes back to the stovetop and lets out a quiet but wildly frustrated noise at seeing the metal still hasn't turned red. Sidestepping fast to the drawers, he rummages around for more knives, which he takes across to the stovetop to rest the blades across the burner. Just in case he needs to keep cauterising. It'll be faster to keep several blades heated at once than keep reheating the same blade over and over.

The first knife he laid down is finally starting to glow red. Snatching it up (and goddamn it, the handle is hot), he rushes back to Jesse's side. Snatches up a hand towel to wipe and smear away the pooling blood from the worst looking wound. Then he's clamping a hand hard down on Jesse's mouth. Pinning him down against the island counter.

No time or even any point telling Jesse to breathe and brace himself. Clutching the knife tight in his hand, Joel depresses the searing hot blade against the wound he'd just wiped. There's a subtle hissing sound, followed by the disturbingly sweet stench of cooking flesh. ]

Edited 2016-05-07 05:26 (UTC)

[Jesse doesn't even feel it initially, the numbness of blood loss and the extreme heat overpowering his nerves for those first few seconds. Then something connects and the signal of pain makes its way through him, his entire body tensing as he chokes a muffled scream into that towel. All of the sudden, he's wide awake, and he'd be thrashing if his limbs weren't so heavy and lifeless. Screaming is about all he can do.]

[ Joel has to block the screaming out. He's good at that. Countless times back at home, he'd have to block out the sound of someone's screams of agony while tending to their wounds. Or causing them new wounds, be that snapping their arm or gouging a knife deep into their gut or pushing the barrel of a gun into their mouth to blow their brains out.

Despite the panicked, trembling state Joel is in, he works with quick efficiency, almost as though he's snapped into autopilot. He lifts the blade away to give a moment to cool, then depresses the blade against it again. And again. Then flips the knife over to press the clean side of the still searing hot blade against the wound. Short bursts of cauterisation. The bleeding has at least slowed, the wound beginning to look charred. ]

[It's not long before Jesse's screamed his throat raw, the sharp sound giving way to ragged gasps. The towel's soaked with blood still rising up into his mouth, but at least Joel's work is doing its job to slow the rest of the bleeding. And Jesse can't help but stay alert now. Any time he threatens to slip back toward unconsciousness, the next press of the knife throws him awake.]

[ For the next ten minutes, maybe more, Joel moves back and forth fast between Jesse and the stovetop, switching the red glowing knives to cauterise the remaining wounds on Jesse's body. He's completely switched off to Jesse's agonised suffering because he has to be, until, at last, all the wounds have stopped bleeding and are now red, fleshy and charred. The smell of blood and burned flesh still hangs fresh and sharp in the air immediately around them.

Dropping the last knife he's been using into the sink with a loud clatter, he hurries back to Jesse's side, quickly running his forearm across his own forehead to mop away sweat before grasping Jesse's head in his bloodied hands. He tugs out the blood-soaked hand towel from Jesse's mouth. ]

Look at me. C'mon, Jesse. Focus.

[It may not be readily apparent, but the cauterization's already helping. His body doesn't have to work so hard at regenerating his blood, some of the color already returning to his skin as his heart stabilizes. He's not a corpse fighting to stay conscious anymore, even if he's still not completely present.

When the towel's finally pulled from his mouth, he sucks in a deep breath and turns his dazed eyes up to Joel. Despite his improving condition, he's still terrified that he might be dying. Maybe it's a good sign that he has the strength to burst into tears, his hands fumbling to get a hold of Joel again.]

[ Oh Jesus, Jesse. Don't. As Jesse grapples for him while bursting into tears, Joel clutches Jesse's head tighter, as if trying to make him stay focused. Maybe there's a part of him that's relieved as hell Jesse seems to have regenerated enough energy to be able to cry at all, but he's trying to ignore Jesse's distress in favour of wanting him to heal. ]

C'mon, focus. [ A firm, urgent order, that's followed by him quietly but firmly adding in spite the roughness in his voice: ] It's okay now. It's okay, c'mon. It's okay.

[ It's really not okay. None of this is okay. Joel just needs to convince himself that it is. ]

[Jesse nods to show that he understands, because he can't find his voice yet and the only noise he can seem to make is a strangled sob. He's focusing, he's focusing: first to restore the blood in his veins, returning it to every extremity that's gone blue over the course of the past half-hour. His fingertips can start to feel again and he reaches to hold Joel's face the same way Joel's holding him. He's afraid to let go.]

[ Letting Jesse's head go, Joel quickly reaches up to grasp Jesse's hands, pulling them away from his face. He peers down at Jesse, pale, numb worry written into the wrinkles on his face as he squeezes Jesse's hands.

He needs to keep busy, though. If he doesn't keep busy, panic is going to overcome him while waiting for Jesse to heal. So, he lets Jesse's hands go and snatches up another hand towel that he hasn't used yet, and takes it across to the sink to rinse under cold water. He wrings it out and moves back to Jesse, and starts wiping Jesse's face down, the white hand towel turning a bloody pink colour as he smudges away blood and wipes away cold sweat.

Now the worst of it seems to be over, Joel becomes aware of the subtle trembling in his hands, from adrenalin, from the aftermath of every trauma he's lived through during the last twenty years being triggered in the last hour. He's holding it together, though, out of sheer survivalist habit.

He knows he can't let Jesse go to sleep, either. Another reason to stay busy. ]

Did he get you anywhere else?

[Poor Joel is a funny thing to be thinking at a time like this, but it's exactly what's going through Jesse's mind as his eyes sweep over Joel's features. This? This is fucking terrible for both of them.]

I don't -

[His voice is so hoarse, he's practically whispering.]

I don't think so.

[The pain is still so overwhelming, he can't say for sure. But the bleeding seems to have stopped, and despite his shaky hold on consciousness, he's getting stronger.]

[ Well... that's good. That's good. He tosses the wet hand towel over towards the sink with a loud, dull thunk, then faces back to Jesse. ]

C'mon. Let's get you warm.

[ Assuming that will make any difference. Chances are it won't, but he needs to keep busy. He eases an arm underneath Jesse's shoulders and eases an arm underneath his knees, and lifts Jesse off the island counter carefully. He carts Jesse out of the kitchen, stepping over things scattered on the floor that he'd shoved off the counter, and when he reaches the living room, he eases Jesse down onto the couch.

Snatching up a throw blanket tossed haphazardly over the back of the nearby armchair, he shakes it out and tucks it over Jesse. Then he sinks down onto the edge of the coffee table, elbows dropping onto his knees while wearily pushing a bloodied hand through his greying hair.

He's too shaken and numb to think of anything to say. Even questions about what the hell had happened back at Xavier's are currently lost in his head. He'll sit here and make sure Jesse stays awake. That's the most important thing right now, anyway. ]

[Every movement is immensely painful, Jesse whimpering and shaking as Joel carries him, though he doesn't protest. Once he's settled on the couch, he glad to be there, even if the blanket doesn't do much to warm him while his blood pressure's so low. It's more comfortable, at least. Softer.

His fear hasn't abated. All that medical training is running through his head. He's too aware of his precarious situation to believe he's in the clear. He could still go into cardiac arrest or slip into a coma. Hypovolemic shock has exhausted his entire system. He probably needs a blood transfusion, but he's too afraid to even suggest it, because he's not sure he'll survive the journey by car or teleportation. There's no point in saying it, worrying Joel further.

The truth is, the possibility he might die here is very real.]

Can you...

[He hesitates for a number of reasons. Joel isn't going to like this, for one. And more importantly, he might understand the implication in the request.]

Can you bring Daisy here?

[He doesn't want to leave without saying goodbye.]

[ Joel snaps his head up to look at Jesse. In spite of everything, the look on his face might as well say, ...what? Are you outta your goddamn mind?

He looks away because, yeah, he knows exactly what Jesse is implying - that he might not make it - and there is no way in hell he's even going to let himself entertain that thought. So, he fixes his attention back on Jesse. ]

Look, just-- Just focus on tryin'a get better, alright? She don't need to be brought into this.

Please - Please, Joel...

[Don't make him argue. He doesn't have the strength for that. He just wants the both of them here with him. The last time he died, he was so fucking alone.]

I am not leaving you.

[ Said almost angrily. Angry panic. What if something happened to Jesse if he left to get Daisy? ]

[And Jesse doesn't want him to. But he knows how fast that teleportation works. And he knows that right now - and only right now - he's stable.]

Do it. Before I get worse.

[ Don't you dare say shit like that, Jesse. The pale, angry look on Joel's face says as much. His mouth pinches together like he's about to argue that he's not going to leave Jesse. The very thought of letting Jesse leave his sight right now sets him right on edge.

He looks away again, then abruptly pushes himself to his feet. He shoves his still bloodied hand into his back pocket to fish out his phone. ]

Fine. I'll get her. But if anything happens to you, it's gonna be on her.

[ He searches for her contact on his phone while apprehensively eyeing Jesse. When he finds her number, he presses call and lifts the phone to his ear. ]

[Of course Daisy is completely unaware of what's happened, but as soon as Joel's name pops up on her phone she knows something is wrong. Why else would he ever call her?

Hesitating at first, Daisy picks up.]

Hello?

Where are you?

[ Straight to the point. Not even going to greet her. The tightness in his voice absolutely gives away that something's wrong, though. ]

[Her blood goes cold at the combination of his question and the way he talks.

Jesse.]

At my apartment, why? What's going on?

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