“Jesus fucking Christ,” Freya blows out. “Why did you do this to yourself?”
“Well, I kind of had to.”
“You should’ve called me, I would’ve come,” she says, sitting on the chair and pulling herself closer to the bed. She softly touches the skin around the terribly done stitch work, and I wince in pain. “This is terrible. Once I take these out, I’ll know if there’s an infection. Just tell me there’s an exit hole.”
I nod. “I stitched that one, too.”
“Fantastic. Can you stop playing doctor from here on out, please?”
“I will,” I mumble.
The harder Freya is pressing to the wound, the more it hurts. I snap my eyes shut, feeling every nerve in my body ignites at her touch. To make matters even worse, she’s trying to be gentle.
“It’s swollen,” Freya mutters.
“Does she need to go to the hospital?” Arlo asks, worry evident in his voice.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll know when I see the damage.”
“Get it over with, please.”
Freya looks up at me. “I can’t just take them out. It’s already painful, and I’m not even directly touching them. I need to use numbing cream, then local anesthesia. Sit tight, this is going to take a while.”
She stands up, tossing the gloves into the small trash can. “I’ll go grab everything I need.”
The moment she’s out of the room, Arlo sits on the bed next to me. He holds my hand in his, rubbing the back of my palm with his thumb. The motion is soothing, and as I lower my clothes again, I wince a little.
“You should’ve told me immediately,” Arlo says. “This is a priority.”
“I’m sorry,” I sigh.
“What did I tell you about apologizing?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I know you’re worried. I’ll be fine. At worst, we’ll have to have a small trip to the hospital. But I believe in Freya’s abilities here.”
“I’m glad you think so highly of her, but Freya is a chemist, not a doctor.”
I shrug. “She did go to med school for a few years. I think she knows how to do stitches.”
“Fine, but if she says she can’t do it, we’re going to the hospital.”
I smile. “Okay.”
Freya returns with some medical equipment, putting the grey tray on the small table next to me. She puts on a new pair of gloves, and Arlo helps me take off my clothes. It hurts, but I know it’s my own fault.
He tosses a small blanket over my shoulders to keep me at least somewhat warm while Freya does her thing.
The numbing cream is cold, and I snap my eyes shut while she applies it as close as possible to the wound. She carefully spreads a thin layer of it everywhere, then pulls back.
“We’ll wait a few minutes, then inject you with anesthesia. Are you feeling alright?”
I nod. “I’ll be fine.”
“Once I’m done, and assuming I’ll be able to fix it, when showering, you’ll cover the gauze in a thick layer of seran wrap. You can’t get it wet.”
“Okay.”
My eyes follow Freya’s movements when she reaches for the anesthesia, my eyes widening. “Now, now, why the hell is the needle so big?”
