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@naiya-dyani @emberynus-the-dragonslayer @kayla-skywriter

I am sooo sorry that this took soo long. Hope you enjoy! *is biting nails*

 

The youth braced himself and gritted his teeth as Megyn pulled his leg into her lap. Carefully loosening the knot on the make-shift bandage, she eased the cloth from his leg, laid it aside and began to examine the wound.Though the bandage had slowed the bleeding, blood was still pooling in the wound. And, though she couldn’t see the best in dim, amber torchlight, she could feel where the bullet was lodged with her fingertips.

Snatching a thick pad from her kit, she pressed it over the wound with the palm of one hand while supporting the limb with the other arm.

She glanced up towards his face, only to bite her lip in pity. His face was ashen. His mouth was twisted, as though holding back a cry of pain.

Giving him a pityingly look, she let her eyes seek the floor. Her lips twisted. Thoughts crowded into her head as she closed her eyes. For several moments, she sat still lost in thought. . .

The torch above her hissed and flickered. Shaking her head, she dropped her gaze to her hands as she lifted the pad and checked the wound. The bleeding had stopped.

A soft sigh of relief escaped her as she reached into her kit for her tools. As she laid them out, one by one, her mind ticked through procedure.

First extract the bullet and any shrapnel, without –  She bit her lip –  severing any major blood vessels.

Then clean it out, and pack it with – she winced at the thought as she removed the bloody pad and laid it aside – what little packing I have left.

Dress it – She shed her gray coat and rolled up her sleeves.

“Lord,” she prayed barely above a whisper, “Please guide my hands.”

She reached for the scalpel and a pair of forceps.

*    *    *    *    *

The torch on the wall above Megyn flickered and smoked as she wrapped the last length of cloth around the youth’s leg and secured it in place.

With a sigh, she blinked her eyes and then wiped them with the back of her hand. As she let her hand rest on the floor, they focused on the youth. The tears had dried in streaks on his face. His skin had blanched even paler. His eyes stared almost unseeing into the ceiling.

One tear slid down her cheek as his cries of pain reverberated in her head. He tried not to scream she thought But the pain –

Gently cradling his leg in her hands, she laid it on the floor. She scooted up to head, wiping the blood from her hands onto a cloth as she did. Turning to her backpack, she slipped a handkerchief from a small side pouch. Leaning over him, she carefully sponged away the sweat and the tears from his face.

“Are you done?” a gruff voice asked.

Megyn twisted around. The Tower Warden stood just to her left. Two prison guards  flanked him on each side, their forms casting long, foreboding shadows.

“Yes, Sir,” She replied regretfully.

One of the guards stepped forward and grabbed the youth by his arms.

“Take him to the interrogation room,” his partner directed him, yanking open a door behind them.

He nodded as hauled the youth up. “We’re ready.”

Springing up, Megyn slipped her arm around the youth and assisted him to his feet. As the guard swung him around, she whispered in his ear, “Good-bye. I won’t forget you.”

The next moment he was gone, hustled away by the guards into the interrogation room. She stood still, watching as the door swung closed behind them, listening as the lock clicked into place.

Looking down, her eyes locked onto smeared blood on the floor. Her lips pressed shut as she closed her eyes. I won’t forget. I couldn’t. I remember every one. Every face . . .

Swinging around, she opened her eyes and knelt beside her backpack. Wiping her eyes with her hand again, she began to gather up her supplies.

A footstep sounded on the floor behind her. “Do you need assistance?”

She glanced up as she snapped the lid of her medic kit closed. “No, thank you, Warden,” she declined with a shake of her head.

He nodded as she placed the kit in her pack and zipped the pack shut. As she rolled down her sleeves, he stooped and picked up her coat from the floor.

She nodded gratefully to him and held out her arms. Silence reigned as he helped her put it on and handed her the backpack.

“Thank you, Warden.” She said as she swung it to her shoulder.

He nodded and extended a hand. “Goodnight, Agent Harris. Do you need an escort back to the city?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” She replied as she shook his hand.

Swallowing, she asked quietly, “What will be done with him?”

“He’ll be interrogated until we know what he was doing out there and why. From there,any punishment will have to be determined by the Courts,” he answered simply.

She nodded and saluted as her heart twisted within her chest. “Goodnight, Warden. “

He nodded and saluted. Stepping to the door opening to the entry, he opened it and held it for her.

Megyn passed through it with a nod and a smile. But as its closing thud echoed behind her, the professional smile faded. Her eyes, filled with sadness as they fixed their gaze on the floor.

As she slowly walked across the room, her steps echoed softly and hauntingly around her. But her thoughts rang loud like alarms bells in her head.

If only he weren’t a prisoner, she wished as she bowed her head. He needs rest and warmth, not an interrogation in cold, dismal prison.

A sigh left her lips as she approached the two porters at the courtyard door. But he is a prisoner. And I can’t change that.     

She saluted the porters. Silently, they saluted back and opened the door for her. As she stepped into the dark courtyard, she sighed. All I could do is my best. And pray. she thought as the echoes of her steps faded away.

The bitter cold rushed up and surrounded her. The wind howled in from the wilderness and pushed against her. Blackness fell about her as clouds blocked out the moon.

Her face turned to the Tower, a symbol of darkness. Among it’s bars, the flames of torches burned, bright against the dark.

“Hope.” she whispered. ” ‘Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all you who hope in the LORD.’ ”

She faced into the wind. With squared shoulders she strode ahead toward the outer gate.

Movement caught her eye. Turning her head, she made out the silhouette of a large, fluffy dog in the shadows. His fur ruffled in the wind as he turned his head and looked at her.

She paused as she realized That’s the dog that was with the youth who helped me!

There he was, his face buried in the dog’s fur and his arms wrapped around his neck.

I never got a chance to thank him.  And he seems . . . sad and lonely.  

Changing her course, she approached a few feet, then stood still and held out her hand towards the dog.