Descent 22

I’ve seen people gutted. Done a fair bit of it myself. Watching the surgeon cut her open hurt like hell. If you’d told me a week ago I would be standing here, my gut twisting, my jaw clenched tight enough to hurt, over a surgery, I wouldn’t have believed it, to say the least. It went on for hours, until I was numb. Handing him instruments when he called for them. Helping clean up her blood.

Injecting her to keep her under, her own body fighting it, trying to wake up. Don’t want to even imagine her waking up like that, with her back cut open. The occasional order from the doc to clean up the blood soaked rags on the floor. An ever growing pile of them in the hamper. Scrub up. Pass the instruments. Injections for pain. Injections to keep her under.

Shining her eyes was worse. I remember how that felt. Of course, I was aware at the time, but it doesn’t change that I know what it’s doing to her. That, and I had to watch her face, wiping the streams of blood away, while he did it.

I’ve never made any excuses about what I am. I’m a killer, plain and simple. I stopped being squeamish about it so long ago, that I can’t remember what it’s like to have ever really been bothered much by it. I’ll avoid it where I can, but I’m not going to turn into a pussy over it. Watching her being cut is ripping me apart. When I’m not passing instruments, or doing what the doc is telling me to do, I’m holding her hand. Because I want her to know I’m here, for one thing. The other being to keep me from killing him, at every cut he makes in her.

Hours pass. He’s closing her up. Bandaging her eyes. They’ll have to stay that way for a few days. Injecting her with something, so that her own endorphins won’t kill her. Says she’ll be giggly for a while. Giving me instructions on how to care for her. Handing me a bag with syringes, for pain. I’m numb. I hear everything, because I have to, but all I want to do is take her somewhere quiet and hold her. I’ve never felt so empty, so drained.

We’re standing at the end of the table, my hand resting on her ankle. The bloody chip, with it’s evil looking tentacles, rests on the table between us. The doc’s drained too, like this surgery has aged him twenty years. Writes down the marker information, inscribed into the chip, onto a piece of paper, hands it to me. Incinerates the chip. We both watch as it burns. Gather up the bloody rags, and gowns. Incinerate everything else. Watch as he systematically goes through the information on the medical scanner, erasing every trace that she’s been here. Turns to me, finally, his voice raw, and incredibly tired.

“I’m sure you could just kill me. That would pretty much insure that no one would know she’s been here. All I can do is give you my word that I’ll never give her up.”

He turns his back to me. I can feel the tension in him. Worried I’ll kill him anyway. Turning his back so he doesn’t have to see it coming.

“Will she live.”

“She’s got more will than anyone I’ve ever seen. The fact that she lived through what’s already been done to her attests to that. Yes. I think she’ll live. I’d rather not get killed for it, but I’m tired. If you’re going to, at least have the courtesy to do it quickly.”

I won’t kill him for it. I won’t say it out loud, but I owe him.

“How long before she wakes up.”

“Here..”

Hands me a syringe. Stroke her arm, so she knows I’m there. Inject her again. It takes a few minutes, wipe her face with a cold cloth. She has enough painkillers in her, she’s not feeling anything.

“….Ri…….”

“Shhh….quiet, baby….”

Hearing her voice makes my heart hurt, but having names dropped here would mean I’d have to kill the doc. I don’t want to.

“….you stayed with me…..the whole time…”

Rest my head on her shoulder and just try to breathe. Fuck, I’ve tried to never show anything, to never let anything get to me, or at least to never let anyone know that it has. Breathe deep, try to get a grip of myself. Lean down, kiss her. Tell her to be quiet until we get out of here. If I don’t here her voice I might get through this. She smiles at me, a soft giggle. The doc said she’d be a little giggly, but it’s still such an unexpected sound, after all that’s happened, that I can’t help but laugh out loud. Fuck, I’m losing it. Got to get her out of here.

“I’ll help you get her out of here, I’m guessing you’re not going to kill me for it?….Good. Here, let’s get her dressed……”

We take the service tunnels, that run through the Midorian, so we won’t be seen. Keep my hand on her the entire time, as we wheel her down the dark hallways. Back to the smaller ship that I traded for the transport ship we came in. I’m not used to thanking people, but I thank the surgeon. He did more than just help her.

Carry her to bed, try to make her comfortable. Get up to push aside the divider, to that I’ll be able to keep an eye on her when we leave the station.

“I’ll be back in a minute…..”

“….’kay….”

That same soft giggle. I’m probably grinning like a fool right now. I don’t care.

“Brought someone to see you.”

She puts her hand out to the side, breaking into a beautiful smile, at touching Dog’s paw. Tell the dog to watch her. Lean down and kiss her again. Tell her I’ll have to go for a bit, so we can leave the station. Move up front, to contact the docking steward for clearance. Try to pay attention to what I’m doing, the business of getting us back into open space. All I can think of is her beautiful smile.

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