Dungeons

"Physically yes, though it will take a few weeks...but I'm not able to give him his fingers or his leg back. Emotionally, and mentally I don't know how long that will take." Patrick followed the same procedure he had used for Adrian's left hand, onto his right one. He covered the wounds with lube before he used gauze and chlohexdine to clean the wounds, and then the alcohol and iodine to disinfect. Flushing the wound like he had before, he frowned, pulling out along thin pair of scissors. He cut at the jagged skin, having no way of being able to save it even if he sutured it. Once done he stitched up the wound and bandaged it. Pulling off a glove he felt at Adrian's neck for a pulse. It was weaker than before, and the weredragon felt cooler than he had been earlier. The werehorse cursed. Pulling out another blanket from his bag, he sat Adrian up slowly, letting the unconscious boy lean against him. "I need you to hold onto him and keep him warm. We'll start the blood transfusion now as well."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, seeing Kieran heating up the rock. Well that idea was a lot better than his. He patiently for Kieran to be done, hesitating before he crouch down and took a hold of his arm to get to one of his veins. He hadn't wanted to butt in and come between Kieran and Adrian, but the Weredragon needed his brother's blood as well besides the heat. Sticking a butterfly needle into Kieran's cephalic vein he secured the needle with tape before he extended the line with more tubing and connected it with the IV. He didn't know how long it would have taken him to find a good vein on Adrian, but he needed to look after what remained to his leg first. Turning the light and moving it to focus more on the leg, he pulled on a new pair of gloves. With a sterile cloth on his lap, he rested Adrian's leg on it. He turned on a flashlight, holding it in his mouth to shine more light down on the bloody stump. Pulling down the pants lower, he repeated the same steps. When it came to flushing out the wound he also used forceps to removed shattered pieces of bone.


Though on the outside it looked like he was completely calm, through expression and movements, Patrick fumed on the inside. This was far from ideal conditions to be doing such surgeries. If any of the wounds became infected, more pieces of Adrian would need to be removed. There would be hell to pay if that happened. The boy had been through enough. He didn't want to be the one to take more from him.


The werehorse stared down at the leg stub, turning it from one side to the other. In his mind he was visualizing what he had to do next, though anyone watching might have thought he didn't know what to do next. Opening his mouth, he glanced at Kieran, but he closed it without saying anything. He was going to warn the older Weredragon not to look, but no doubt the teen would do so anyways. Unfolding his instrument kit completely he got to work. Pulling out a heavy set of scissors he cut through skin and muscle, using hemostats to clamp down on the veins and arteries, and retractors to pull the skin away so he could see what he was doing. Even now he had to take more away from Adrian. He had to remove what was left of the tibia, and saw into the femur, which meant having to remove the knee as well. Taking out the small bone saw, he cut into the femur. With the veins and arteries he had clamped, he closed them off by tying them. Once he checked to make sure they didn't bleed he moved onto the next one. He wiped at his brow with a face cloth, pulling out the small battery powered drill. Drilling tiny holes at the end of the femur he tied the muscle to the bone with fibrewire. Removing the retractors he pulled the skin down and sutured it shut with a much thicker thread. Like Adrian's hands, he bandaged up the stump though he heavily padded it for extra protection. Carefully putting the stump down, he stood up slowly, stretching his legs.


“That’s the worst of it,” Patrick finally spoke, coming to crouch down next to Adrian. He checked the Weredragon's pulse, finding it was stable and stronger than earlier. "I'll have to look after his face too, but that could wait if you want me to take a look at your wrist." He looked at Kieran. He noticed that it was broken, and he wanted to work on Adrian first. Now that Adrian's wounds were patched up and all he could do was wait, Kieran's broken wrist was the worst wound to look after than Adrian's face.

Patrick frowned, seeing Kieran shaking his head, and scoff at his words. He nodded slowly, looking away and returning with his bag to kneel down beside Adrian’s head. “By the worst of it, I meant the wounds….but even then that may not be the worst if they get infected.” He began to clean off Adrian’s face slowly, careful not to wake him. “When they wake up, that’s a different story entirely. Everyone reacts differently. The most important part which you might not have heard before is that I will take the blame….for all of it if I have to. Family is more important at a time like this than a stranger. If he gets mad at me let him. If anything needs to be done to him, let me do it.” He looked up at Kieran, pulling on gloves and tending to the gashes on Adrian’s for head, after putting an ice pack on his swollen eye. “Don’t blame yourself. You are not the one that did this to him.” He knew it was easier said than done though. Once he was done tending to Adrian's face he stood, pulling out the vial morphine and a syringe. He he shot another dose in the IV, knowing the last one must have been wearing off by now.


Ice continued to chew on the Were's leg even after he had eat everything and there was only bone left. He gnawed on it, until he grew too tired of that. Tossing the bones aside, he went into a corner and curled up. Though he was tired, he couldn't fall asleep. Not in this place. Not just yet.


Adrian frowned, wrinkling his nose at the smell of chemicals. He squirmed, pulling away when he felt someone touching his face, when he felt the amount of pain he was in. He didn't open his eyes just yet. Still in a place of being awake and sleeping. Overall his entire body ached, though he felt cold. His head pounded. His hands and leg hurt.

Patrick frowned, glancing over his shoulder to look at the Were in the other cell, looking back at Kieran moments later. "You didn't know the guards were going to put Adrian in there with him. You didn't know what was going to happen. I'll take the blame because Adrian has no one left besides you and Alice. If he blamed you....last I heard he and your sister didn't have much of a relationship. He has no one else that cares about him. He can't feel like he's completely alone or he might do something.... drastic." It was hard not to have heard of Prince Adrian Draeyva and his reckless stunts. Even now the werehorse didn't doubt that Adrian would think of something to do to himself if he really wanted too. His frown deepened, and he remained standing next to the IV when he saw Adrian move about slightly. Saw him opening his eye slowly, being the other was still swollen under the ice pack.


Adrian had finally opened his good eye, and blinked slowly. His head spun and he felt like he was going to get sick. Trying to sit up, he flinched and fell back down onto his back heavily. Both of his hands sent sharp shooting pain up his arms. What was going on? Lifting up his arms he stared at his bandaged hands, at his missing fingers. It didn't take him too long to remember what had happened. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, and his vision grew blurry. His throat tightened and he felt like he couldn't breathe, but it had nothing to with the iron collar around his neck. He was deaf and blind to the present world, not aware of the other two in the cell with him, or aware of the wail that pushed out him and released his agony, though it didn't give him any relief. With shaking hands he clawed at his arm and pulled out the IV. Trying to turn onto his side, his shoulders shook as he sobbed, continuing to struggle. His stump moved about but it couldn't help him. Gripping the blanket with his remaining fingers, he slowly rolled and lay on his side. Taking a hold of the blanket behind him, he pulled it over himself, covering himself completely. Clearly not wanting to be looked at. In his bubble of darkness he still continued to sob and tears still fell. His heart hurt so bad he was surprised it hadn't stopped beating. As much as he didn't want anyone to look at him, he didn't want to look at himself just as much, if not more. Why had his twin done this to him? What had been the point of breaking and tearing him apart? Adrian gasped for breath around his sobbing. He didn't want to live like this. Wasn't it torture enough that he had gone through the pain of having his body parts being torn up? Now they fixed him and expected him to want to live with it? Why didn't they let him bleed out? It wasn't like he would have known they were letting him die. It would have been kinder than this.

Patrick held out his hands in front of himself defensively. Not replying and beginning to pack away what instruments were no longer needed. Kieran was right. Neither of them knew, and he should have remembered that the Weredragons weren't very trusting of other Weres. He had been too caught up in trying to tend to Adrian to remember.


Adrian was still caught up in his own world. He didn't hear his brother speaking to him. The hand on the blanket pulled him back. It threatened the safety of his bubble. He pulled at the blanket, gathered the extra bits that weren't near him. Then he hugged it all to his chest awkwardly, pulling the blanket taunt across his back. His loud sobbing had subsided, though tears still continued to fall as did his shuddering. The pain and dizziness were starting to get overwhelming. Even though he was wrapped up in the blanket like he was he still felt cold.

Patrick frowned, standing with his arms crossed. "Only what's left in the morphine vial. There's only enough for another dose besides what I put in the IV bag." The soldiers had gone through his bag. They took what they didn't think he needed. He couldn't see the teen forcing the morphine on his younger brother, but he had already underestimated him.


"I don't want anything for the pain!" Adrian yelled, though his voice was muffled by the blanket. He didn't want anyone coming near him. He didn't want anyone to touch him. To poke him with needles. Opening the blanket, it covered him still as he crawled away on his elbows and knee. He gritted his teeth against the pain. Once he reached the corner of the cell away from Kieran and the stranger, he sat down, and pulled the blanket around snugly.

Patrick took the vial of morphine from Kieran, nodding wordlessly. For both the Weredragon's sakes he hoped Adrian would take it wouldn't putting up a fuss. He didn't know Kieran to be forced to give it to him.


Adrian whimpered when the blanket was pulled from him, and he felt it slipping from his grip, his hands hurting more when he struggled to keep it. "I don't want it," he mumbled, his face now visible. His face wet because of his tears, his one eye red while the other was swollen shut. He stared down at the ground in front of him, refusing to look up.