Chapter I
A helicopter sounded loudly above them making wind and dust whip around the soldiers that stood on the ground next to where it was going to land. The heat burned the ground that they were standing on and burned them through their thick, warn out, tan combat boots. They pulled up the scarfs up around their necks and over their mouths to keep the flying sand out as they watched the helicopter come closer through weary eyes..
As the helicopter got closer, they moved over to the side laying the blanket back over the barely alive body of their wounded general. He coughed slightly from the heat being so bad and his throat being dried out. The medic crouched next to him and slowly poured water into his mouth and onto his chapped lips. He sputtered as his throat took in the cool water thankful before he sunk back in agony from the single bullet wound in his gut.
When the helicopter finally landed, the pilot looked at them and signaled for them to hurry and climb in. He looked up with panic over the horizon seeing the dust rising up signaling at there was some heavily artillery coming their way. He swallowed hard and waited impatiently for them to all to climb into the helicopter so he could git his boys out of this hell and back into their base. Finally, he pulled back the throttle and the helicopter leaped up into the air like the bird it was meant to be.
“Yeehaw!” he yelled out flying the Hewi away from the quickly approaching tanks and the antiaircraft missiles. He flew it as fast as he could without tipping it forward and he looked over his shoulder at the worn out posse of troops that rested behind him. They were all so warn out and didn’t look like they would be alive if it wasn’t for the refreshing water. They all sat looking at the ground while the medic tended tirelessly to their wounded general.
He looked back through the glass to see where he was flying, though, that only resulted in panic. He let out a terrified cry that was trying to be a command but it was inaudible even with the microphones in his head set that was broad casting into all the soldiers’ as well. Still, they miraculously knew what to do. In seconds, everyone was strapped down and the pilot yanked hard left on the joy stick and the whole thing leapt up higher up into the air and flew towards the missile.
“Brace for impact!” he roared out finally audible and he flew as fast but he winced feeling the helicopter totter from the explosion making them fall towards the ground. “This is Hewi 8400.1, we need back up immediately! We’ve got some tanks on our tail, we could use some warthogs out here!” he yelled over the mic startling the people in the pilots of the warthogs that flew a good hundred feet above them.
The helicopter shook again as another missile barely missed it and exploded to the side of it making them almost completely flip over. He started sweating badly as he barely made it back to being level again. His fellow comrades cried in the back out of fear and panic that they were going to die today. The pilot wouldn’t admit it, but he thought he was going to die as well.
“D. Hawk! Get your mind on the flying and try to keep it leveled out! General S isn’t going to make it if you keep this up!” the medic yelled up to him and D. Hawk growled angrily.
“Dammit! I’m trying Gear, I’m trying! Hog’s coming down to back us up!” D. Hawk yelled back to him glaring before he struggled again for control of the Hewi as the jets whipped over them and started dropping bombs down on the tanks. He pulled up hard to the right getting out of their way as fast as he could to get back to base. Normally, he would fight them off, but right now, his main priority was getting the boys home.
Just as he thought he was safe over the dunes, one last missile ripped through the air at him before its producer exploded into shrapnel and parts. D. Hawk cried out in panic as the missile missed them by mere inches, but it was close enough to blast his side of the cockpit apart and his cry changed from panic to pain. Shrapnel flew all around the cockpit cutting into his skin and torso leaving him bloody and torn to pieces. He snarled and held back more cries as he forced himself to go back to flying. He could still see, he could still move, and the Daark could still fly even if it did have a good sized hole in her now.
“Hawk! You okay!” Gear asked him ducked down next to him seeing the blood all over his one side and the copilot was dead from a piece of metal in his neck. He looked up at his best friend worried out of his mind seeing the blood gurgle out of his mouth.
“I’ll be fine, just go take care of General,” he coughed glaring at the sky before sped up the helicopter as fast as he could make it go. Gear stumbled back a few steps before he went back to the general and started working as hard and fast as D. Hawk was trying to fly.
After an agonizing half hour, D. Hawk finally touched down at home base. Everyone was better but the people who were fine to begin with. Gear stumbled off first taking the general with another man fallowing after to carry him to the medical bay extremely rushed. Thankfully, he was able to go get someone else to take him there while he took care of his best friend.
D. Hawk was starting to not be any better then the shot general. His body was caked in his and his copilot’s blood and all the wounds made him exhausted mentally and physicaly. Even his face was cut up and covered in blood leaving his face not only rough with a five o’clock shadow, but cracked. He closed his weary hazel eyes and sunk back thankful of the goggles that he wore that kept them safe from the metal even if it had threatened to break.
“You are one lucky b*****d I have to tell you,” Gear said expertly as he looked at the gapping hole that tore apart the outside and took out half of the landing rails on one side. “Still, as lucky as you are, you need to get a check out as well D.,” he said softly unstrapping his passing out friend before he pulled him out of his seat and held him up with his arm wrapped around his neck. Grunting slightly, he pulled D. Hawk up to his side and struggled to keep his tank built friend still standing. Sure, Gear was a good sized kid, but D. Hawk looked like a football player and took on the physical characteristics as one.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your job first?” he asked groggy as hell and in so much pain it almost numbed his body and all his senses.
“Naw, I’m only the lead medic in the field, back at the base, I’m like third or forth. Besides, you’re part of my squad as well so its not like I’m completely breaking the rules of protocol,” Gear huffed before he grunted a little trying to climb the stairs with his huge friend beside him barely walking. He was surprised though that he was still moving. It normally would have nocked anyone by now by the pain or shock of even just being covered in a comrade's blood. Gratefully, he made it to the top of the stairs and made it onto flat surfaces, but D. Hawk had given out completely. He couldn’t walk any further, he was just trying not to die or pass out from all the blood pooling onto the ground as he moved.
Medics rushed up to Gear and D. Hawk as they got close and took him from Gear needing two men to carry him and a girl medic to check on him as they moved him to the critical area. They had to get the metal out of his body before he either died of infection or blood loss. When they could, they laid him down on the bed and he grunted and groaned as he tried to help, but it did no good and they just pushed him back down so he was staying still. He tried to remain sitting up still, but they pushed him down and kept him down. If it wasn’t for him cooperating, they would have needed a lot more guys to hold him down.
Gear stood in the back ground and watched his friend lay on the operating table and he sighed remembering him to be so lively only half an hour ago. He hated the thought that his best friend could die in front of him today leaving him alone again with his fiancée back home. Oh how he missed Alex back home, but he wasn’t letting his best man die without his permission. He walked back into the room and sighed heavily seeing D. Hawk’s chest rise and fall slowly and shakily from the shrapnel threatening to enter his heart and lungs. He let out his own shaky breath trying to compose himself before he away and cleaned himself up pulling off his military coat leaving him in his soaked tank-top. He pulled off his helmet and goggles letting his sun blonde hair fall out of his helmet a little leaving it spiky looking and covering his bright blue eyes slightly. Pulling on his mask and coat, he returned to his friend who had opened his eyes back up again waiting for the inevitable even if he wasn’t sure what would come to the pilot first.
Slowly and gently, Gear pulled of his friends helmet noticing shrapnel in it as well that saved his life. He shook his head sadly seeing also the collar that he left standing up saved his life. To himself, he promised to never make fun of the way that he insisted on wearing his collar. If he liked it standing up, he wouldn’t complain any more.
Next, he pulled of his coat. He hated this part since he received painful groans and winces from his friend as the wounds and shrapnel were moved. He sat him up gently and pulled of his coat sighing as if it was as painful to do that to him as it was to D. Hawk. He gasped though when he saw his white tank-top beneath his coat and saw the horrors of what his helicopter gave to him as a reward of not being careful enough.
D. Hawk’s shirt was no longer white, it was either black and brown with debris or dark red from his blood pouring out of him soaking his shirt. He softly put a hand on it feeling it heat up with his friend’s blood and body warmth. Gently, he cut away the shirt ending up ripping the bottom part that wouldn’t cut. His friend groaned and tried to move, but he fell still again with a gentle touch from Gear on his chest. He let out another painful sigh and he waited for even more pain to become from the shrapnel being removed.
“God, I can’t do this,” he said quietly with his eyes becoming misty with fear. He looked a million times worse without the shirt to absorb the blood. Deep black wounds covered his body and his shaky breathing became more evident without the heavy clothes to cover it up and hide it. “I need some help over here doc!” he yelled over to the other medics and two came over. One to pull out the shrapnel and another to help hold him down while she did it.
Gear gently pulled the bloody dog tags off his body and put them over on a tray to be cleaned and get the pieces of metal out of them, but now was the time for the challenge, the part he dreaded the most. He cleaned his hands off and pulled on the latex gloves quickly and tucked his necklace with his wedding ring down his shirt. He blinked a few times removing the tears from his stinging eyes and returned to his friend’s side. He looked down at his crazy black hair that partially hid his hazel eyes as well that were partially closed and barely staying open, he hoped completely that his friend would just pass out from the pain and exhaustion and go to sleep and get through this without all the pain.
“We are going to start on three.... One, two,” she said quietly grabbing the scalpels and everyone braced to fight back while D. Hawk just braced for the pain and to try to not fight back. She let out a nervous sigh before she said, “Three!”
The second the words were uttered, everyone’s fears awakened, everything was a mess. Blood, metal, sweat, fear, and anguish. Everyone was apart of this situation and it was making it extremely difficult on all of them. D. Hawk laid very still for the first cut only flinching with his jaw and fist clenching up, but after that, he couldn’t take it. It was like fighting a totally different person verses the laid back, cocky, patriotic pilot they had grown to know. This was a scared wounded animal that couldn’t fight off his fear and pain.
Blood ran down his body viciously with every new cut despite their efforts to catch it and keep it in his body. Still, at least their job was being accomplished, over a pound of shrapnel had been removed so far, but they guessed another pound and a half remained in his body. They felt terrible as they cut through solid muscle making it hurt more then verses if he was loose. They bared their teeth as they tried to make it through this butcher seeing it only that way even if somewhere deep in their minds they knew it would help him out in the long run and save his life.
Even with D. Hawk knowing it was just to help him, he couldn’t control himself from thrashing out as he felt his body being drained of energy and life. He let out a painful cry every time he was cut into, but eventually his body started numbing after half an hour torture. Almost being done didn’t give him any comfort at all, he still looked at it depressingly as not done. He shook slightly from the shock of pain, but he managed to start calming down. As a reward, Gear and the other medic loosened their grips on his shoulders and arms.
“Five more,” Gear informed his comrade slowly as the female medic started digging out the one embedded in his shoulder bone. It had broken a good portion of the joint part of the bone since it was a much bigger piece and seemed to be part of the bomb instead of the helicopter. She cut his shoulder open wider with the scalpel and stuck her tweezers in deep and when he growled, she knew she’d finally reached it. Quickly, she grabbed it and removed it, but unfortunately the speed took away the gentleness making it burn and ache to an unexplainable extent.
He cried out again as if he was being gutted and he reached up and grabbed her arm. The other doc couldn’t read his emotions as well and thought he was calming down, but he was getting ready to strike allowing him to reach her.. The girl cried out as his hand started clenching down on her wrist with it making a sickening popping sound as it started dislocating.
“X.! Go get the knock out crap!” Gear called over putting a knee against D. Hawk’s throat choking him slightly and keeping him down while he struggled to wrench free the medic from his grip.
“But Gear! I though it was for emergencies only, we’re almost out!” X said back trying to help but Gear just shoved him aside.
“Go get the god damn anesthesia or I’m going to let you be the next one that’s strangled,” Gear snarled back to him with anger and panic flaring in his eyes. He wanted to get his friend out of this place and keep everyone safe before he went on a rampage threatening to injure everyone critically.
Terrified that Gear would let D. Hawk attack him, he left and ran over getting the liquified version of their anesthesia and poured it onto a cloth generously until he knew it would knock out someone of the patient’s size. He put the cloth against D. Hawk’s face quickly and in one fluent motion covering his mouth and nose making him deeply inhale the anesthesia.
At first, D. Hawk looked up at X. angrily and looked as if he was going to kill him next, but his hazel eyes started flickering closed under neath his sweaty clumped together bangs. He let go of the girl medic’s hand and she fell back glaring at him for the red marks that would surely bruise before he turned his attention to X. His hand clamped tightly around his throat, but it slowly loosened up and his arm fell slack falling to the table with a resounding crashing sound with his head rolling over to the side with him finally asleep and them able to remove the most deadly shrapnel that never rested at getting closer and closer to his heart.
Gear got off his friend and snapped his fingers close to his ear and when his eyes didn’t twitch, he knew he was out cold. He let out a relieved sigh and left to get bandages before he returned to put the cloth tightly over his wounds even if he was going to have to re bandage him later. He shook lightly from his friend’s warm blood on his hands, but he still worked as hard as he could to save his dying friend’s life. Seconds ago, the others might have thought he was in perfect condition, but he knew better then that, he was dying even if D. would never tell him.
X. returned to his side pulling back up his mask looking at the deep wounds before he cut into his body slowly and carefully while the other medic held up a flashlight to see into his dark, lightless body. He let out a sigh and begun working on him slowly and delicately pulling out the remaining shrapnel from his body.
As the helicopter got closer, they moved over to the side laying the blanket back over the barely alive body of their wounded general. He coughed slightly from the heat being so bad and his throat being dried out. The medic crouched next to him and slowly poured water into his mouth and onto his chapped lips. He sputtered as his throat took in the cool water thankful before he sunk back in agony from the single bullet wound in his gut.
When the helicopter finally landed, the pilot looked at them and signaled for them to hurry and climb in. He looked up with panic over the horizon seeing the dust rising up signaling at there was some heavily artillery coming their way. He swallowed hard and waited impatiently for them to all to climb into the helicopter so he could git his boys out of this hell and back into their base. Finally, he pulled back the throttle and the helicopter leaped up into the air like the bird it was meant to be.
“Yeehaw!” he yelled out flying the Hewi away from the quickly approaching tanks and the antiaircraft missiles. He flew it as fast as he could without tipping it forward and he looked over his shoulder at the worn out posse of troops that rested behind him. They were all so warn out and didn’t look like they would be alive if it wasn’t for the refreshing water. They all sat looking at the ground while the medic tended tirelessly to their wounded general.
He looked back through the glass to see where he was flying, though, that only resulted in panic. He let out a terrified cry that was trying to be a command but it was inaudible even with the microphones in his head set that was broad casting into all the soldiers’ as well. Still, they miraculously knew what to do. In seconds, everyone was strapped down and the pilot yanked hard left on the joy stick and the whole thing leapt up higher up into the air and flew towards the missile.
“Brace for impact!” he roared out finally audible and he flew as fast but he winced feeling the helicopter totter from the explosion making them fall towards the ground. “This is Hewi 8400.1, we need back up immediately! We’ve got some tanks on our tail, we could use some warthogs out here!” he yelled over the mic startling the people in the pilots of the warthogs that flew a good hundred feet above them.
The helicopter shook again as another missile barely missed it and exploded to the side of it making them almost completely flip over. He started sweating badly as he barely made it back to being level again. His fellow comrades cried in the back out of fear and panic that they were going to die today. The pilot wouldn’t admit it, but he thought he was going to die as well.
“D. Hawk! Get your mind on the flying and try to keep it leveled out! General S isn’t going to make it if you keep this up!” the medic yelled up to him and D. Hawk growled angrily.
“Dammit! I’m trying Gear, I’m trying! Hog’s coming down to back us up!” D. Hawk yelled back to him glaring before he struggled again for control of the Hewi as the jets whipped over them and started dropping bombs down on the tanks. He pulled up hard to the right getting out of their way as fast as he could to get back to base. Normally, he would fight them off, but right now, his main priority was getting the boys home.
Just as he thought he was safe over the dunes, one last missile ripped through the air at him before its producer exploded into shrapnel and parts. D. Hawk cried out in panic as the missile missed them by mere inches, but it was close enough to blast his side of the cockpit apart and his cry changed from panic to pain. Shrapnel flew all around the cockpit cutting into his skin and torso leaving him bloody and torn to pieces. He snarled and held back more cries as he forced himself to go back to flying. He could still see, he could still move, and the Daark could still fly even if it did have a good sized hole in her now.
“Hawk! You okay!” Gear asked him ducked down next to him seeing the blood all over his one side and the copilot was dead from a piece of metal in his neck. He looked up at his best friend worried out of his mind seeing the blood gurgle out of his mouth.
“I’ll be fine, just go take care of General,” he coughed glaring at the sky before sped up the helicopter as fast as he could make it go. Gear stumbled back a few steps before he went back to the general and started working as hard and fast as D. Hawk was trying to fly.
After an agonizing half hour, D. Hawk finally touched down at home base. Everyone was better but the people who were fine to begin with. Gear stumbled off first taking the general with another man fallowing after to carry him to the medical bay extremely rushed. Thankfully, he was able to go get someone else to take him there while he took care of his best friend.
D. Hawk was starting to not be any better then the shot general. His body was caked in his and his copilot’s blood and all the wounds made him exhausted mentally and physicaly. Even his face was cut up and covered in blood leaving his face not only rough with a five o’clock shadow, but cracked. He closed his weary hazel eyes and sunk back thankful of the goggles that he wore that kept them safe from the metal even if it had threatened to break.
“You are one lucky b*****d I have to tell you,” Gear said expertly as he looked at the gapping hole that tore apart the outside and took out half of the landing rails on one side. “Still, as lucky as you are, you need to get a check out as well D.,” he said softly unstrapping his passing out friend before he pulled him out of his seat and held him up with his arm wrapped around his neck. Grunting slightly, he pulled D. Hawk up to his side and struggled to keep his tank built friend still standing. Sure, Gear was a good sized kid, but D. Hawk looked like a football player and took on the physical characteristics as one.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your job first?” he asked groggy as hell and in so much pain it almost numbed his body and all his senses.
“Naw, I’m only the lead medic in the field, back at the base, I’m like third or forth. Besides, you’re part of my squad as well so its not like I’m completely breaking the rules of protocol,” Gear huffed before he grunted a little trying to climb the stairs with his huge friend beside him barely walking. He was surprised though that he was still moving. It normally would have nocked anyone by now by the pain or shock of even just being covered in a comrade's blood. Gratefully, he made it to the top of the stairs and made it onto flat surfaces, but D. Hawk had given out completely. He couldn’t walk any further, he was just trying not to die or pass out from all the blood pooling onto the ground as he moved.
Medics rushed up to Gear and D. Hawk as they got close and took him from Gear needing two men to carry him and a girl medic to check on him as they moved him to the critical area. They had to get the metal out of his body before he either died of infection or blood loss. When they could, they laid him down on the bed and he grunted and groaned as he tried to help, but it did no good and they just pushed him back down so he was staying still. He tried to remain sitting up still, but they pushed him down and kept him down. If it wasn’t for him cooperating, they would have needed a lot more guys to hold him down.
Gear stood in the back ground and watched his friend lay on the operating table and he sighed remembering him to be so lively only half an hour ago. He hated the thought that his best friend could die in front of him today leaving him alone again with his fiancée back home. Oh how he missed Alex back home, but he wasn’t letting his best man die without his permission. He walked back into the room and sighed heavily seeing D. Hawk’s chest rise and fall slowly and shakily from the shrapnel threatening to enter his heart and lungs. He let out his own shaky breath trying to compose himself before he away and cleaned himself up pulling off his military coat leaving him in his soaked tank-top. He pulled off his helmet and goggles letting his sun blonde hair fall out of his helmet a little leaving it spiky looking and covering his bright blue eyes slightly. Pulling on his mask and coat, he returned to his friend who had opened his eyes back up again waiting for the inevitable even if he wasn’t sure what would come to the pilot first.
Slowly and gently, Gear pulled of his friends helmet noticing shrapnel in it as well that saved his life. He shook his head sadly seeing also the collar that he left standing up saved his life. To himself, he promised to never make fun of the way that he insisted on wearing his collar. If he liked it standing up, he wouldn’t complain any more.
Next, he pulled of his coat. He hated this part since he received painful groans and winces from his friend as the wounds and shrapnel were moved. He sat him up gently and pulled of his coat sighing as if it was as painful to do that to him as it was to D. Hawk. He gasped though when he saw his white tank-top beneath his coat and saw the horrors of what his helicopter gave to him as a reward of not being careful enough.
D. Hawk’s shirt was no longer white, it was either black and brown with debris or dark red from his blood pouring out of him soaking his shirt. He softly put a hand on it feeling it heat up with his friend’s blood and body warmth. Gently, he cut away the shirt ending up ripping the bottom part that wouldn’t cut. His friend groaned and tried to move, but he fell still again with a gentle touch from Gear on his chest. He let out another painful sigh and he waited for even more pain to become from the shrapnel being removed.
“God, I can’t do this,” he said quietly with his eyes becoming misty with fear. He looked a million times worse without the shirt to absorb the blood. Deep black wounds covered his body and his shaky breathing became more evident without the heavy clothes to cover it up and hide it. “I need some help over here doc!” he yelled over to the other medics and two came over. One to pull out the shrapnel and another to help hold him down while she did it.
Gear gently pulled the bloody dog tags off his body and put them over on a tray to be cleaned and get the pieces of metal out of them, but now was the time for the challenge, the part he dreaded the most. He cleaned his hands off and pulled on the latex gloves quickly and tucked his necklace with his wedding ring down his shirt. He blinked a few times removing the tears from his stinging eyes and returned to his friend’s side. He looked down at his crazy black hair that partially hid his hazel eyes as well that were partially closed and barely staying open, he hoped completely that his friend would just pass out from the pain and exhaustion and go to sleep and get through this without all the pain.
“We are going to start on three.... One, two,” she said quietly grabbing the scalpels and everyone braced to fight back while D. Hawk just braced for the pain and to try to not fight back. She let out a nervous sigh before she said, “Three!”
The second the words were uttered, everyone’s fears awakened, everything was a mess. Blood, metal, sweat, fear, and anguish. Everyone was apart of this situation and it was making it extremely difficult on all of them. D. Hawk laid very still for the first cut only flinching with his jaw and fist clenching up, but after that, he couldn’t take it. It was like fighting a totally different person verses the laid back, cocky, patriotic pilot they had grown to know. This was a scared wounded animal that couldn’t fight off his fear and pain.
Blood ran down his body viciously with every new cut despite their efforts to catch it and keep it in his body. Still, at least their job was being accomplished, over a pound of shrapnel had been removed so far, but they guessed another pound and a half remained in his body. They felt terrible as they cut through solid muscle making it hurt more then verses if he was loose. They bared their teeth as they tried to make it through this butcher seeing it only that way even if somewhere deep in their minds they knew it would help him out in the long run and save his life.
Even with D. Hawk knowing it was just to help him, he couldn’t control himself from thrashing out as he felt his body being drained of energy and life. He let out a painful cry every time he was cut into, but eventually his body started numbing after half an hour torture. Almost being done didn’t give him any comfort at all, he still looked at it depressingly as not done. He shook slightly from the shock of pain, but he managed to start calming down. As a reward, Gear and the other medic loosened their grips on his shoulders and arms.
“Five more,” Gear informed his comrade slowly as the female medic started digging out the one embedded in his shoulder bone. It had broken a good portion of the joint part of the bone since it was a much bigger piece and seemed to be part of the bomb instead of the helicopter. She cut his shoulder open wider with the scalpel and stuck her tweezers in deep and when he growled, she knew she’d finally reached it. Quickly, she grabbed it and removed it, but unfortunately the speed took away the gentleness making it burn and ache to an unexplainable extent.
He cried out again as if he was being gutted and he reached up and grabbed her arm. The other doc couldn’t read his emotions as well and thought he was calming down, but he was getting ready to strike allowing him to reach her.. The girl cried out as his hand started clenching down on her wrist with it making a sickening popping sound as it started dislocating.
“X.! Go get the knock out crap!” Gear called over putting a knee against D. Hawk’s throat choking him slightly and keeping him down while he struggled to wrench free the medic from his grip.
“But Gear! I though it was for emergencies only, we’re almost out!” X said back trying to help but Gear just shoved him aside.
“Go get the god damn anesthesia or I’m going to let you be the next one that’s strangled,” Gear snarled back to him with anger and panic flaring in his eyes. He wanted to get his friend out of this place and keep everyone safe before he went on a rampage threatening to injure everyone critically.
Terrified that Gear would let D. Hawk attack him, he left and ran over getting the liquified version of their anesthesia and poured it onto a cloth generously until he knew it would knock out someone of the patient’s size. He put the cloth against D. Hawk’s face quickly and in one fluent motion covering his mouth and nose making him deeply inhale the anesthesia.
At first, D. Hawk looked up at X. angrily and looked as if he was going to kill him next, but his hazel eyes started flickering closed under neath his sweaty clumped together bangs. He let go of the girl medic’s hand and she fell back glaring at him for the red marks that would surely bruise before he turned his attention to X. His hand clamped tightly around his throat, but it slowly loosened up and his arm fell slack falling to the table with a resounding crashing sound with his head rolling over to the side with him finally asleep and them able to remove the most deadly shrapnel that never rested at getting closer and closer to his heart.
Gear got off his friend and snapped his fingers close to his ear and when his eyes didn’t twitch, he knew he was out cold. He let out a relieved sigh and left to get bandages before he returned to put the cloth tightly over his wounds even if he was going to have to re bandage him later. He shook lightly from his friend’s warm blood on his hands, but he still worked as hard as he could to save his dying friend’s life. Seconds ago, the others might have thought he was in perfect condition, but he knew better then that, he was dying even if D. would never tell him.
X. returned to his side pulling back up his mask looking at the deep wounds before he cut into his body slowly and carefully while the other medic held up a flashlight to see into his dark, lightless body. He let out a sigh and begun working on him slowly and delicately pulling out the remaining shrapnel from his body.
