Blood, Sweat, & Tears Chapter 3; Antiseptic. This is a long one, sorry guys. >_< (Please tell me what you think!)
The ride in the ambulance was mostly silent. Uncomfortably cold for a confined space with more than three people.
Edward was talking quietly with the paramedic about Mike’s condition, and confirming known injuries, to which the paramedic nodded along and gently prodded the boy, wiping his head of dried blood and dirt.
Charlie cleared his throat and spoke up.
“So, Mike,” He said apprehensively. “What… happened? How’d you get all the way out there?”
Mike, who had looked relatively calm, albeit a bit exhausted, now looked very uncomfortable. A sort of uneasy tension settled in his features as he fixed his eyes on the door of the ambulance.
“I—,” He started, the words dying in his throat and being put to rest on his tongue. His lips tightened into a line and his jaw twitched.
“I went to get the mail last night. I was just about to reach the mailbox when I just– I, I don’t even really know. Something very solid knocked me off my feet, and in what felt like an instant, I was being dragged off into the woods by my ankle. It was so incredibly fast, I, I mean, maybe i-it just felt that way because I was scared, but it almost felt like I was flying. Whatever had me had a hell of a grip, too.” Mike said, sounding hushed and anxious as he reached his right hand down and pulled up the leg of his jeans.
There, just above his ankle, were a collection of scabbing crescent shapes. Dried blood and mud were smattered against and below where the index and ring finger would’ve been.
“Jesus.” Charlie said under his breath. He felt his blood run cold. What the hell had him? It had to be a human grip, the layout was too familiar. But the marks were so deep.
“What happened after that? Did you see its face?” He asked the boy, his tone as gentle as he could muster.
Mike’s whole demeanor was rather anxious, and his mom held his left hand in a vice grip.
“It dragged me pretty far west– I, I mean I think it was west. I don’t really know. A lot of it’s pretty fuzzy, but I remember that after a while it stopped, and I tried to sit up. It barely gave me a chance before it locked my knees down and pushed my shoulders back into the ground. I tried to scream, but it clamped its hand over my mouth and shoved my head into the dirt. It was so dark, I, I could barely make anything out, but I remember it being very, very pale.”
He sounded upset, his voice almost strangled as he tried to push the words out. His mother tried her best to soothe him, stroking his muddied hair and shushing him.
“It’s okay baby, take your time.” Karen cooed to him, running a hand through his hair.
He took some deep breaths and nodded slowly, exhaling and looking up at Chief Swan.
“It’s alright buddy, don’t stress yourself out. We’ve got all the time in the world.” Charlie said quietly. Gosh there's no way he wasn’t stressing this kid out. Consolation was not a strong suit of his. He cringed at himself mentally.
“I-It just… God, I don’t even know what it was doing but one moment I could feel it’s cold breath on my neck and the next I heard just this– this, great bellowing growl. The guy, thing? I don’t know. It felt human, just.. Wrong, it— just not right..” Mike shook his head uncomfortably, shuddering.
Edward’s imposing eyes locked on Mike for a split-second and his jaw tightened. Charlie was sure that no one else noticed the motion, but something about it made his stomach churn.
“It was knocked off me by something else. Something real big. It looked like a bear. I didn’t wait around to find out, I just rolled over and booked it. I ugh… snagged myself on a tree, and after a while, I felt too cold and weak to run. I didn’t know where I was, and I just passed out against a giant fir.” Mike explained, gesturing to his deeply cut shoulder which another paramedic was cleaning and bandaging up.
The boy’s cheeks abruptly flushed a light pink as he cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder at Edward.
“Edward woke me up. He gave me his coat and picked me up, asking if I was okay and stuff. It was cool.” Mike said, his tone sheepish as he tried to come off dismissively.
Edward’s gaze softened slightly and the corner of his mouth tugged up into a little smile. He looked away from Mike, his gaze settling beside Charlie. Charlie knew he wasn’t even looking at him, but the proximity of his piercing stare made him feel claustrophobic.
“Good man, Edward.” Chief Swan said shortly, his tone genuine, but a bit stiff. Edward looked at him and flashed a polite smile.
Charlie’s heart stuttered. Why was he so uncomfortable? This kid had been nothing but kind, and yet something about his gaze made him feel… uneasy. There was a time back when, where he’d been helping the police station’s Canine Department train the drug dogs to attack on command. He remembered seeing this certain look in the animal’s eyes before they went for him.
The determination, certainty, domination; the look of a predator. Charlie shuddered softly and crossed his arms, looking away.
Eventually, the ambulance pulled into the hospital parking lot and Mike was wheeled out on the stretcher. It looked like he was pretty deep in conversation with Edward over the game that happened last night. Ah, right, he must’ve missed it. Charlie noticed something else shortly after; was the kid blushing? Either his mom didn’t notice or didn’t care, but it was pretty obvious. Something that felt ancient and long since buried tugged at his heart strings and the scene in front of him brought him back about thirty years or so. Billy and him sitting on the hot, ashy sand. Skipping rocks and laughing together over egging Mr. Egan’s truck. The glances they shared, the way that Billy’s hand always lingered on Charlie’s back just a little too long. The times they’d sneak off in the middle of the night and go skinny dipping around the north shore, the way that Billy’s dark eyes shone in the silver illumination of the moon.
Charlie quickly shook his head. No. No. What he felt back then wasn’t natural and he promised himself a long time ago that that part of himself would stay buried. He grew up, had a wife, and had a beautiful baby girl. He grew up. He grew out of that.
“Chief Swan?” Edward said abruptly.
Charlie jumped slightly, quickly bringing himself back to the present.
“Mm?” He responded, realizing quickly that they were now in the Urgent Care unit, Mike being helped into a bed and hooked up to an IV as nurses cleaned him up, assessing his wounds. He’d lost himself for a minute there.
“My father will be arriving shortly to help assess and file a medical report for Mike’s case.” Edward explained, his gaze locked on Charlie’s only momentarily before he crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder at the doors at the end of the room.
Ah, right. The infamous Dr. Cullen. He’d heard the ladies at the station gossiping and fawning over the guy. He thought it was pointless, and honestly, kind of distasteful. If he was this guy, he’d probably keep to himself and want to be left alone with his family too. He never really liked attention like that from women. Charlie could imagine that most guys would feel the same way.
The ER doors swung open and in sauntered Dr. Cullen, clipboard cradled in his left arm.
Charlie’s train of thought was immediately shut down. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his head. He couldn’t form a coherent thought and he felt his jaw drop slightly. He thought he might’ve heard Edward chuckle very quietly and then try to stifle it with a cough, but he couldn't be sure of anything right now.
Dr. Cullen was tall, broad shouldered and looked like the statue of David brought to life. His skin was as smooth as porcelain, and he had this short, wavy, flaxen hair that was styled back with meticulous care. He was the most beautiful man that Charlie had ever seen, and he hated that he felt that way. The ancient ache in his chest was back and it hit him with the force of a tank.
“Hello. Chief Swan, is it? What a pleasure. I’m Dr. Cullen. My family and I just moved down from Alaska.” The doctor said casually. His voice was like honey. Hauntingly beautiful, lingering in his ears so pleasantly. There was a twinge of something European in it, and Charlie forgot how to breathe. He was feeling overwhelmed and he hadn’t even said anything to this man yet.
“I’m Swan. Chief… Chief Swan, FPD.” Charlie said, fumbling over his words momentarily, feeling his face being set ablaze by Dr. Cullen’s gilded gaze. He held out his calloused hand awkwardly.
A sudden warm, genuine chuckle escaped Dr. Cullen’s mouth as he grasped Charlie’s hand in a firm, cold handshake.
Charlie felt his knees weaken like he was going to melt into the floor. He wanted to melt into the floor. He’d never felt so embarrassed and awkward in his whole fourty-five years on Earth. Dr. Cullen’s hand was so cold and smooth that it felt akin to marble. Charlie felt so many very uncomfortable things. He lingered just a little too long before he finally disengaged the handshake and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. The task at hand. Mike. Yes, Mike’s medical report.
“Alright, Micheal Newton. Looks like you got pretty sliced up by a tree, huh?” Said the doctor as he slid on a pair of blue latex gloves and scooted to Mike’s left side on his stool.
“Just Mike. And uhm, yeah.” The boy responded, lifting what was left of his t-shirt sleeve up to reveal the bandaged cut.
Dr. Cullen’s nimble fingers worked fluidly, while staying slow and deliberate, undoing the bandaging. His gaze was soft and calculating as he unraveled and began removing bloody gauze. Charlie thought he might've seen his nostrils flare slightly.
Mike hissed quietly, looking away.
Charlie heard the doctor give him a gentle, hushed apology as he cleared the last of the cotton from the wound. His voice seemed to make Mike loosen up a bit. The tension in his shoulders had dissipated marginally.
The cut was pretty ugly. A gash, and below it, a scratch, which matched up with the branch they found the ripped sleeve on. Blood leaked meagerly from the very middle of the gash. Dr. Cullen quickly and meticulously began cleaning the wound, dabbing blood away periodically.
“Looks like you’re going to need stitches, Mr. Newton.” The doctor noted casually as he spun around in his stool and began prepping.
Mike looked uneasy again.
Charlie was standing off to the side, next to Karen. He looked at her. She looked right back, nodded, and briskly made her way to Mike’s right side, holding his hand.
On the outside, he looked sympathetic, albeit a bit distant, but on the inside, the Chief was fighting a war with himself. He felt so many things that he didn’t even want to admit to himself. He was mad at himself, and confused, and he couldn’t help stealing glances at the doctor. Each time he caught himself, he added a tally to his board of sins.
Fuck, he could use a drink.
About an hour elapsed, and in that time Mike was sewn up, sent home, and Charlie made off with a written report of the kid’s injuries. He made his way to the station; to both hide from everyone, and to check the forest cams. Hopefully, he’d find some sort of lead about this maniac, and clear his head of all earthly desires while he was at it.
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