Work Text:
“It’s okay, sailor. You’re okay. Just breathe.”
“I can’t!”
“You can. With me, alright? You’re okay.”
“But you’re not!” Wind cried, pointing at Four’s bleeding side. “You’re dying out here and we’re alone and I’m scared and you should be scared too!”
Four grabbed his hands, forcing the boy to meet his eyes. “Wind. I’m okay. I’ll be… fine.” His voice was strained, and his tunic was torn and stained with blood. “You need to breathe. I… I can’t do this by myself. I need you to calm down and help me.”
“B-but-” Wind stammered, “-you’re bleeding, a-and-”
“Wind. Take a breath. Right now.”
Wind nodded quickly, drawing a ragged, rushed inhale. “Okay. Okay, I- I’m okay.” He shook his hands out and knelt beside Four, trying not to gag at the iron scent of blood on the air. “What… what do I do?”
Four shifted slightly on the ground, his face screwing up in pain for a moment before he carefully masked it. He tried to shrug his bag off his shoulder, but his side gave a violent protest and he gave up that effort immediately.
“I… I have… a needle and th-thread… in my bag,” he gasped, trying to keep his voice steady - no need to scare the poor kid more. “You’ll h-have to-”
“Stitches?” Wind interrupted. “You want me to give you stitches? I- I’ve never- I don’t know how to-”
“I’ll… walk you through it,” Four assured him. “You can… do this…”
Wind stumbled back, shaking his head. “No, I- I can’t-”
“You have to.” Four finally let some of the pain and fear he was feeling bleed into his voice. “I need you to focus right now. No… no one else is here… and no one is coming… not quickly enough to help. Get the needle.”
Wind hesitated another moment.
“Now, Wind,” Four snapped.
Wind finally moved, unhooking Four’s bag from around his shoulder and pulling it open. He dug around in it for a moment, pulling out a few empty bottles that used to be red potions - gods know they could have used one or two of those right now - and a tiny hammer and chisel set before throwing the bag down.
“I can’t find it, it’s not in there!” he cried, voice pitching dangerously close to panic.
Four was feeling pretty close to that himself at the moment - and his head was getting really fuzzy - but he couldn’t afford to freak out. Not when the kid was already freaking out. “Sailor, come on. Trust me, it… it’s in there. There’s a small pocket… on the inside. They should be in there.”
Wind sniffled, reaching for the bag again. “Okay…” He reached in again, presumably searching for the pocket. “Okay, um… I think I… yeah, okay. Got them.” He pulled out a small skein of thread coiled around itself, and a little tin case with a few sewing needles inside. “This… this will be enough?”
“It has to be,” Four said, dodging the question. If the kid knew how risky this really was… “Thread a needle and… come over to this side.”
Wind mercifully obeyed without comment this time - and Four thanked every god he knew by name and a few he didn’t that the kid knew how to thread a needle - and knelt beside him. “Okay,” he mumbled, holding up the needle awkwardly between two fingers. “Do I just… put it in? Like with fabric? Or…?”
Four was already shaking his head. “No. Definitely… definitely not like that. The stitches will be… one at a time… and tied off se… separately…”
“Your eyes are closed.”
Four’s eyes snapped open instantly. Bad. Very bad. Don’t pass out.
“Sorry…” He raised his good arm to rub at his face, trying to wake himself up a little. “Do the stitches one at a time. Tie and cut the thread after each one. And don’t leave them loose, but don’t pull too tight. Just… the edges of the wound… need to be close together…”
“You’re trailing off again,” Wind noted. “Are you gonna pass out?”
Four shook his head - hard. “No. No, I… I’ll be fine.” He was lying. In truth, his side was burning, and he was fairly certain that between the injury itself, whatever might have been on that monster’s weapon, and lying in the dirt since getting hurt, he would have been doomed to infection even before using an unsterilized needle and sewing thread.
Wind raised the needle again without taking his eyes off of Four’s side. “...this is gonna hurt, right?”
Four didn’t sugarcoat it this time. “...yeah. A lot. But it’s not you hurting me. You’re helping, okay?”
Wind nodded - but he still looked guilty as the needle approached Four’s skin.
Four had prepared himself for pain. Heck, he’d dealt with all kinds since he was ten; he’d been stabbed, burned, electrocuted, speared, bludgeoned, and shot with arrows more times than he’d like to remember.
But he always seemed to forget the fresh agony of a needle entering already-damaged skin. With no magic to dull the pain, nothing to anesthetize the area or even safely knock him out, there was nothing to do but grit his teeth and try not to let any sounds escape that might startle Wind.
Wind may not have known what he was doing, but he learned by doing, and he learned quickly. Once he tied off the first suture, he moved on to the second, then the third. Then he looked up at Four.“Is… does this look okay?”
Four forced his eyes back open - when had they closed again? - and blinked the blurry world into focus. His gaze settled on his side, and he had to be impressed with the passable, albeit uneven stitches.
“Tha’... tha’s good…” Even he could tell he was starting to slip. He had to stay awake, at least until someone else found them. “Keep goin’... ‘m okay…”
Wind clearly didn’t believe him, but he did as he was told.
The needle went in again, and Four nearly screamed. Gods, why was it suddenly so much worse? He barely stopped himself from flinching away from the needle - it wouldn’t do either of them any good to tear through Wind’s hard work and rip his side open again. But a strangled noise escaped his throat anyway.
Wind’s eyes widened, scared for a moment - then hardened in determined realization. “I know,” he said gently. “I know it hurts. Just a few more, okay? Just… stay with me. Breathe.”
Ha. Breathe. Exactly what he’d told Wind before, when he’d been panicking. It’s stupid how ironic that is. Like something you’d find in a book.
Then the needle went into his skin again and a sound so raw and agonized left his throat that Wind actually flinched.
“I’m sorry, I… what do I do…?”
“Just… d-don't stop…” Four gasped, hands fisting in the grass so tightly his knuckles were white. “Wha’ever you do… don't stop…”
Wind nodded. “I won't. Just keep breathing, okay? Almost done.”
Four couldn't help the soft laugh that slipped through his lips. “You're lying.” He could feel how much more of the wound still needed to be stitched - at least three or four more sutures. “Just… just do it.”
Wind nodded again, putting in another suture - his hands a little steadier now, surer. Four gritted his teeth, determined not to scream again.
Another long moment passed as Wind tied off the thread, then what he said next startled Four.
“It's okay, you know. I know it hurts. You can cry.”
His eyes snapped open, and Wind shrugged.
“You know, if you need to.”
Four shook his head. “I'm not crying.”
“Didn't say you were,” Wind allowed, readying the needle again. “But you can. You won't scare me.”
Four huffed a soft sound that might have been a laugh if he were feeling better. “You're fourteen.”
“And you're sixteen,” Wind fired back. “And Twi is twenty-one. And Sky is twenty-five. And Warriors is twenty-eight. Doesn't mean they can't be scared. Doesn't mean we can't either.”
“But I'm not-” Four cut himself off with a choked scream as the needle went in again.
“Sorry, sorry! I thought maybe if I got you talking…” Wind paused, letting Four breathe. “I'm sorry.”
“‘s’okay…” Four mumbled, trying to blink the world back into focus. He couldn't tell if his vision was blurred by tears or the edge of consciousness. Either way, not something he wanted. “Keep goin’...”
“Don't pass out,” Wind pleaded, a bit of fear creeping back into his voice. “Please stay awake. Just… don't you dare die.”
Four forced his eyes open, trying to bring Wind's face into focus. “Doin’ my best…”
Wind dragged a hand across his eyes - or, that was what Four thought he was doing. It was getting hard to see. “If you die, I'll… I'll bring you back so I can kill you myself.”
“Mm… ‘kay…”
The needle moved again, and this time Four didn't flinch.
“...Four?”
“...yeah, sailor…?”
“You still gotta show me how to make an anchor. Remember?”
Four thought for a moment. He vaguely remembered the kid bugging him at the forge until he agreed to show him some things.
“Y…yeah…”
Things got fuzzy after that. Four thought maybe Wind talked to him a little more, but he wasn't sure if he answered. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged backwards across the ground.
He hissed through his teeth, trying to curl around his side, but moving only made it worse so he stopped. The dragging stopped too.
“I know. I'm sorry. Just trying to get you somewhere safe where we can wait.”
Wind sounded like he knew what he was talking about, at least. Maybe there was a cave or a copse of brush nearby that they could hunker down in until the others found them.
Wind started to move him again, aiming for a shaded little area tucked between some shrubs. It was small, big enough for the two of them and little else. That was fine. He didn't want to leave Four's side anyway.
He was careful getting Four maneuvered, and as soon as he had him settled he dug in the other boy's bag to see if there were any bandages he could wrap around his side, because despite the stitches it was still bleeding sluggishly. When he found none, he thought for a moment, then looked down at his own tunic.
That might work…
He tugged it off over his head, sliced it in half with his knife, and tucked it tightly around and under Four's middle. That would have to do until they were found.
He brushed a bit of Four's hair back from where it had fallen over his eyes, which were mostly closed and hazy with pain and exhaustion. “Come on, smithy. Just hold on a little longer.”
Four's eyes slid shut, and Wind didn't dare even breathe until they opened again.
He lay down beside the older boy, tucking himself against Four's uninjured side, and laid his head on Four's shoulder. “The others will be looking for us,” he whispered, as much for himself as for Four. “When they find us, Rulie can heal you. Or someone will have a potion. They'll fix it.”
The only response from Four was a slightly more intentional breath. When Wind looked up, he thought Four's eyes might have been a little closer to fully closed than before.
“Hey. No! Wake up! You gotta stay awake!” He gently shook Four's shoulder. “Don’t you dare pass out! Come on, Four, you held on this long!”
A sound. Muffled by distance. Then another. Familiar. Deep. Voices.
His brothers.
Wind looked up. He could pick out Twilight and Warriors. Maybe Wild too. He glanced at Four one more time, then crawled out of the little hidey-hole.
“We're over here!” he called. “Four's hurt! We need help!”
He didn't wait for an answer, ducking back into the leaves. “Four, you hear that? They're here. They're coming.”
Nothing.
“...Four? Four!”
The smith's eyes were
closed, the tunic wrapped around his side stained with a wide, spreading patch of red.