out, and I was okay with it, until this kid here made me feel ashamed for it. So I made a choice a few days ago that I would help you, if you’ll let me, instead of running away from it. I hope you do. But either way, none of you are at risk for my being here. I don’t know if you can trust me on that or not. You’ll have to figure it out for yourselves,” and he sat back down again.
Ams looked at Maxton for a bit, not saying anything, and then got up and left the room, probably going after Laurel and Brody. Drake walked over to him, offering his giant hand without a word, and Maxton got up and shook it, and Trelix was there, just shaking his hand, nobody saying anything. There was no need. Only Ella stood off to the side, waiting. She went up to Maxton, finally, took him by the hand and walked him over to the couch, making him sit down and lean back.
She unbuttoned Lancer’s jacket and snapped at him to get her kit. He did, and then he looked at Maxton, the bandage gone now, and he knew what it was. The bloody wound was infected, redness spreading out from it down his chest, puss leaking out from between the stitches. He screwed up somehow. He used antiseptic, he remembered that. Nobody bothered to check on the man’s wound since he stitched him up. Stupid of them. Stupid of him not to. But Maxton had to have known, had to have felt it. Why the hell wouldn’t he say something?
“I want everybody out of here, please. Riley, you can stay if you want to, and maybe even help, but this won’t be pretty.”
He watched Drake and Trelix file out of the room, Ella’s voice catching Trelix on his way out, “I need you to boil a few liters of water please, and find me a few bowls and a couple of clean towels.”
Maxton was watching Ella, not saying anything, eyes curious.
“Why the hell didn’t you say something, Lancer?” he snapped at him. Lancer ignored him, still looking at Ella. “How did you know?”
Ella had him take his jacket off. “I’ve seen it too many times before, soldier. It comes off your eyes, your face, the way you look at food. I just knew. But I know you knew too, and you really should have said something to somebody before. It was stupid of you not to,” she said softly and ran off to wherever Trelix was dealing with the things she asked him for.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” He knew he sounded angry at the man. He was angry at him.
“I would have, if things went the way they did. I’m sorry.” And he understood it then, why he didn’t. If the crew didn’t accept him, the not telling would have spared him from pulling the damn trigger, if he couldn’t do it. That’s why he didn’t say anything. He would rather die from blood poisoning, or however things like this killed one, than have him live with the guilt.
“I didn’t ask you to help us so you could protect me. I asked because we can use you. What you tried to do to spare me... I’ll never speak to you if you do something like that again.” He said it softly, the man watching him.
“Understood,” he whispered, and that was that.
Ella came in carrying the water and the towels. She had Maxton get up while she spread one of the towels on the couch, and made him lie down on it. He kept his eyes on her. “I have to cut you open, Maxton.”
A nod.
She fished in the med kit and took out a few white pills she must have saved from when they had to fix Brody, and handed them to Maxton, only he shook his head at her, looking uncomfortable.
“Not trying to be a hero, Ella, but I can’t take those. Allergic. I’ll be all right,” and he closed his eyes.
He turned away when she split the scar open, couldn’t take it, all the stuff coming out of it. He thought he’d throw up, and was amazed that Ella seemed calm about the whole thing. He looked again when it seemed she was done with the worst of it. Maxton was sweating, but he didn’t move, and kept his eyes closed. She cleaned it all up as best she could and
Ams looked at Maxton for a bit, not saying anything, and then got up and left the room, probably going after Laurel and Brody. Drake walked over to him, offering his giant hand without a word, and Maxton got up and shook it, and Trelix was there, just shaking his hand, nobody saying anything. There was no need. Only Ella stood off to the side, waiting. She went up to Maxton, finally, took him by the hand and walked him over to the couch, making him sit down and lean back.
She unbuttoned Lancer’s jacket and snapped at him to get her kit. He did, and then he looked at Maxton, the bandage gone now, and he knew what it was. The bloody wound was infected, redness spreading out from it down his chest, puss leaking out from between the stitches. He screwed up somehow. He used antiseptic, he remembered that. Nobody bothered to check on the man’s wound since he stitched him up. Stupid of them. Stupid of him not to. But Maxton had to have known, had to have felt it. Why the hell wouldn’t he say something?
“I want everybody out of here, please. Riley, you can stay if you want to, and maybe even help, but this won’t be pretty.”
He watched Drake and Trelix file out of the room, Ella’s voice catching Trelix on his way out, “I need you to boil a few liters of water please, and find me a few bowls and a couple of clean towels.”
Maxton was watching Ella, not saying anything, eyes curious.
“Why the hell didn’t you say something, Lancer?” he snapped at him. Lancer ignored him, still looking at Ella. “How did you know?”
Ella had him take his jacket off. “I’ve seen it too many times before, soldier. It comes off your eyes, your face, the way you look at food. I just knew. But I know you knew too, and you really should have said something to somebody before. It was stupid of you not to,” she said softly and ran off to wherever Trelix was dealing with the things she asked him for.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” He knew he sounded angry at the man. He was angry at him.
“I would have, if things went the way they did. I’m sorry.” And he understood it then, why he didn’t. If the crew didn’t accept him, the not telling would have spared him from pulling the damn trigger, if he couldn’t do it. That’s why he didn’t say anything. He would rather die from blood poisoning, or however things like this killed one, than have him live with the guilt.
“I didn’t ask you to help us so you could protect me. I asked because we can use you. What you tried to do to spare me... I’ll never speak to you if you do something like that again.” He said it softly, the man watching him.
“Understood,” he whispered, and that was that.
Ella came in carrying the water and the towels. She had Maxton get up while she spread one of the towels on the couch, and made him lie down on it. He kept his eyes on her. “I have to cut you open, Maxton.”
A nod.
She fished in the med kit and took out a few white pills she must have saved from when they had to fix Brody, and handed them to Maxton, only he shook his head at her, looking uncomfortable.
“Not trying to be a hero, Ella, but I can’t take those. Allergic. I’ll be all right,” and he closed his eyes.
He turned away when she split the scar open, couldn’t take it, all the stuff coming out of it. He thought he’d throw up, and was amazed that Ella seemed calm about the whole thing. He looked again when it seemed she was done with the worst of it. Maxton was sweating, but he didn’t move, and kept his eyes closed. She cleaned it all up as best she could and
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