#24: “Is that a tattoo?” Wonderful prompt, anon, thank you! :) Sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoy! <3
"Shit, Red,shit. This is bad."
"No, it's not,Lizzie. It's just a graze."
Another day on therun, another day being shot at. When did this become the new normal for Liz? Ohwell, it doesn't matter right now because Red has been shot, Red is bleeding,and Lizzie is panicking.
She is sitting on thecouch in their current safe house, staring fixedly at the blood slowly butsurely soaking Red's shirt sleeve, while Red sits, apparently unperturbed, onan ottoman in front of her.
"Lizzie, really,it just a graze." Red murmurs to her, trying to talk her down.
"But it'sbleeding so much, Red, why is there so much blood?"
"It must havenicked an artery, Lizzie, but its fine. As long as we get it bandaged quickly,it will stop. But it's too high up on my arm for me to do it. I need your help.Can you do it?"
He needs her help.Red needs her help. Red has been shot, Red is bleeding, Red needs her help.
Liz takes a deep breath.
Yes, she can do this.She nods.
"All right, I'lltake my button-down off and you should be able to work around my t-shirt, allright?"
Oh, Red is taking offhis shirt, how interesting. Well, not all his shirts, just one shirt, but it'sstill a layer less than he's ever let her see before and isn't this exciting?
No, Liz scoldsherself, the attraction she may or may not harbor for Red and his muscly arms-- he is certainly more built than one might expect from looking at him in histhree-piece suits, isn't he? -- has no place in this situation. She has tostitch and bandage a bullet wound. Everything else can wait.
Liz takes a deepbreath and gently peels the top of Red's t-shirt sleeve away from the wound,trying to watch his face carefully at the same time for any indication thatshe's hurting him. He keeps a completely straight face however, staring calmlyahead, relaxed and at ease. But she doesn't want him to pretend he's nothurting just for her own piece of mind. And that certainly sounds likesomething Red would do.
"You'll tell meif I'm hurting you, right?"
"Youwon't."
"Red."
"Fine but LizzieI've been through much worse, this won't kill me."
Liz rolls her eyes,not appreciating the reminder that she has, in fact, been present for some ofthe 'worse' he is referring to. She firmly pushes away the memory of him beinggunned down by a sniper in the middle of the street. No, no time for that rightnow.
"Well, still.I'd like to avoid causing you any pain if possible, for some reason." Shemutters the last part to herself, side-eyeing Red as she does so.
"Well, I thankyou for the consideration, Lizzie. And I heard that."
Liz rolls her eyesagain -- Red will give her some sort of disorder, at this rate, she is sure ofit -- and plucks an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit laid out on thecoffee table in front of her and begins to clean all the dried and fresh bloodfrom the area around the wound, ignoring Red's whining that the wipe is"cold, Lizzie, you could have warmed it first".
As the blood comesoff Red's arm, clean, tan skin is revealed to Liz, and her heartbeat slowsconsiderably. The graze really isn't that deep at all, everything is fine, thiswill be easy. But what are those dark lines there? Is that--
"Red, is that atattoo?" Liz asks, peering at the strange markings as she scrubs at a fewpersistent specks of dried blood.
"Hmm? Oh yes, Igot that when I was in the navy."
"What is it?It's kind of hard to tell."
"Well, that wasthe idea. It was the navy emblem but I had it removed after I attained criminal status. As you canunderstand, I had some hard feelings towards the US government at that point inmy life and I wanted any evidence of them and the reckless devotion I socarelessly gave them in my youth to be expunged from my body."
Liz gets to workstitching up Red's shallow wound, letting his quiet, rumbling voice sooth heras she works.
"Well, nooffense, but considering I can still see it, it doesn't seem like it wasremoved very well."
"Oh no, not atall. I was newly on the run at the time and unfortunately I didn't have themoney or resources to go somewhere professional to have it done. I had tosettle for a very sketchy underground tattoo parlor with an 'artist' -- and Iuse that term loosely, Lizzie -- who I do believe to this day has neveractually received a valid permit. I feel sorry for anyone who has been forcedto get something etched onto their body at that establishment. At the timehowever, I saw nothing wrong with the place. I was quite innocent in my youth,if you can believe it, Lizzie."
Lizzie laughsquietly, amused by Red's antics and dramatic storytelling, no doubt meant tohelp distract her from her current task. It does the job. Finished stitching,she reaches for dressing from the kit.
"Why didn't youever have it removed properly, once you had the means?" She asks quietly.
"Oh, I don'tknow. No real reason, I suppose. I may also have considered it symbolic of mysituation, in a way. Representative of what my life has turned me into. Fadedand cracked but still there, present and persisting." He trails offthoughtfully, leaving Liz to wonder how he got to having such a low opinion ofhimself. And when exactly the thought of that made her heart ache for him.
"Well, I don'tthink you're any of those things." Liz assures him softly, securing hisbandage with medical tape. "I think you're... Resilient and persevering.That's a little more positive, isn't it? And I like the tattoo. It suitsyou."
"... Thank you,Lizzie. That's very kind."
"You'rewelcome." She says, smiling softly and gently patting his uninjuredforearm. She feels a small jolt as she touches his bare skin and isn't thatinteresting, but no, that's not for right now. Red has been shot, Red iscleaned up, Red is fine.
"And you'rewelcome for the flawless medical care, by the way. Honestly, they couldn't havedone it better in an ER, I'm sure of it. I knew I should have been adoctor." Liz teases, pretending to sigh wistfully. Evidently, some ofRed's dramatic flair is wearing off on her. And for some reason, that thoughtdoesn't bother her nearly as much as it probably should.
She begins packingthe unused supplies back in the first aid kit, hoping they won't have any moreneed for it -- she doesn't think she can handle stitching Red up again, literallyor figuratively -- when she is stopped by Red's hand on hers.
"Thank you,Lizzie. For the first aid and the kind words. They mean a lot, coming fromyou." And he's smiling at her, the way he sometimes does, like he’s seeingsomething when he looks at her, something precious, and she feels herself blusha little, somehow both uneasy and delighted with the attention.
She just smiles backand nods, closing the first aid kit and standing, patting his shoulder on theway to the kitchen.
"Drink?"She calls over her shoulder.
"Oh please, doyou have to ask? I am a wounded man after all, Lizzie."
She snorts and getstwo glasses from the cupboard. Scotch it is then.
And maybe Red willtell her some more stories before they turn in for the night.
i will never be a Genius Writer but I know that if i just had more output i could be a Good Writer im GOOD with words and i Understand themes etc even if I find them hard to pluck out of nowhere but i just don't Enjoy the act of writing enough and it's so frustrating bc it's something I've always done and always been good at but just not enough
Kwii, in case my posts earlier were just as vague as my posts about the postal workers, I already finished the book. Hours ago. I would have already reread it, too, but my older bro wanted to cuddle it for a bit.
