Simon got down low and flushed the woundout with saline, making sure it was completely clean. His brows contracted in a frown as he began to use the needle and thread to stitch the two bullet wounds on her leg mostly shut.
Never had he willed his hands to remain so steady as he worked. He put the stitches all in a neat line, taking breaks to wash the wound and keep her settled in sleep.She lost a lot of blood.
He released the tourniquet as he went, monitoring the bleeding and his repair. Nora twitched as he stitched, floating in and out of awareness and whimpering as she did so. The sound made him wince, and he took a deep breath when she finally rested for real the moment he was done.
Only then, once it was finished, did he let his hands shake as he looked at her, the anxiety from the day lingering in his central processors.I almost lost her.He frowned and pulled the blanket over her body again, leaving her leg exposed.She was hurt.Ultimately because of me.He looked back down at his row of expert stitches and forced himself to breathe, thinking the action might help calm him down like it did for a human. Gently, he moved her hair behind her ears.Oh, Nora.
This was the first time he ever wished Nora was other than human, so that he could fix her easier than her body allowed.He’d left one side of the wound, the larger hole, partially open for the wound to drain, and now dressed it properly with the gauze from the first aid kit.
Having taken action didn’t help his anxiety, but sitting and watching Nora breathe deeply calmed him down. Moving carefully to clean his supplies, he tried not to disturb her, even though his sensory cortex ached to hold her. He readjusted her blanket.Tonight, when everyone’s asleep, I will. I’ll hold her the entire night. Like I should have before.
What if anything worse had happened and that was their last night together yesterday? Full of misunderstandings? Fear clawed at him and he took his head in his hands.It’s alright. She’s alright.He did worry about infection though. The androids were silent but Simon could see the drone watching his actions through the bedroom window.They might have some stronger medication.I’ll ask tonight.Simon turned the lantern lights off and walked to the door.
“Is Mama okay?” Tilly rushed to ask. She was sitting on the understuffed sofa, Anna next to her with the chalkboard in her lap. They had been drawing together with the radio turned down low.
Simon mustered a smile for the two sitting there. “Mama will be. She’s sleeping now, so let’s try to let her rest.” He went over and hugged the little girl, lifting her off the sofa completely in his arms. “You were so brave and got me in time.”
A grin lit up Tilly’s face. “Yeah. It’s all okay now?”
“Yes.” Simon smiled back at Tilly and set her back down. He leaned and connected foreheads with her. “Are you okay? It was a tough day.”
Tilly pushed her doll into Simon’s face. “Yes. My dolls are happy we are back.” She pointed to the cat. “Tater too.”
“Good.” He pat the doll’s head and then Tilly’s again. Then he looked over at Anna.We’re all mostly okay.
Anna stared back at Simon with a lost expression. She was holding one of Tilly’s dolls on her lap on top of the chalkboard. The only one unaffected by the day’s events seemed to be Tatertot, who wound around his legs purring like normal.
Simon leaned over and turned the radio up a bit. “Listen to this a while longer and then we’ll all go to bed. This day feels like it has been forever. Have either of you eaten anything?”
Tilly nodded. “I had a bar.”
He turned to Anna. “And you?”
Anna shook her head hard, her hands gripped on the doll. The sadness in her eyes said it all.
Simon tilted his head.She needs to eat. I know she’s in shock, but . . .He walked into the kitchen and back with some water and two ration bars. Ripping the package, he gave one to Tilly. “Eat another, Tilly.”
Then he crouched next to Anna, who started to cry. His mouth ran dry, the scene from the bakery replaying before his eyes unwillingly. The chaos and unnecessary violence. Ending with Paul’s dead, vacant stare.Her husband.His tone was low. “I’m sorry, Anna. None of this day’s events was anything I would have chosen.” He put his hand on her knee. “For either of us.”
At that, Anna cried harder, tears tracking down her face. She wiped them to the side, hands tangling in her curled brown hair before she choked out, “Not your fault. It’s not. Nora was right. Paul just was no good. His stupid fault.”
Simon swallowed. “It both is and isn’t my fault. I didn’t willfully create the situation, but me being here did. But regardless, how everything turned out is still hard. Paul was still your husband. This is not something that should have happened. And your life is now different.”
“Yeah.” She wiped at her face with her sleeve. Across her pregnant belly she was still wearing the bakery apron. “Paul wasn’t good but . . . now I have nothing.” She took a deep, shuddering breath in. “Got nothing at all.”
Simon squeezed the top of her knee, watching more tears roll down Anna’s face. “I know you don’t know me very well, but you can come with us, and we can figure it out. You have us. It’s a lot all at once. You’re like a sister to Nora; we won’t leave family behind.”
Anna sniffled, her entire body shaking.
Simon took his hand away from her knee and held out the ration bar in his other hand. “You need to eat still, for you and the baby.”
“I know.” She took the bar and mug of water from him. “I know. Just gotta . . . it’s a lot.”
“It is.” The silence stretched in the room, only broken up by Tilly's humming. Simon cast his mind around, thinking hard. “I have something I would like to have you hear.” He pointed at her stomach. “May I?”
“Sure." Anna looked up at him with hollow eyes, but scooted back so he could sit next to her on the sofa, moving her arms to the side.
Gently he took his hand and pressed against her belly. “Six months? Is that how far along?”
