Blood's On Your Hand

Written by Wolsal

CONTENT WARNING(S): Near-death, grotesque injuries, medical treatment

Ubathi stood at the entrance of the Void, holding a bucket of water and a box of supplies in her large clawed grasp. She stared at The Gateway, steeling her nerves to go inside. It was fine. She’d be fine. He was held back, he couldn’t hurt her. 

It had been a little over a week since she’d last visited him. She wanted to sooner- she really did. But… every time she did, she was unable to stay for more than a few minutes at most. She was scared. Scared of what the Gods had done, and scared of him.

She took a deep breath, adornment slithering off her head to push the door open for her, The Doorway only taking shape as it made contact with it.

It creaked open slowly, all sound seeming to be sucked away into the depths- the winds of the mountain peak were in an instant gone as if they were never there. She stepped inside, eyes taking a moment to adjust to the void.

 It was quiet. Unsettlingly quiet. No yelling or banging or scratching or clanging. Just silence. She started walking, door closing behind her and adornment reforming on her head. 

 As she looked down to where she knew he was and took in what she saw, her heart fell. At the same time, a sickening stench filled her nostrils- enough to make her gag, but simultaneously far too familiar. Rot.

There he was. The God of Chaos, right where his fellow Gods had left him a month and a half ago, crumpled in a heap on the ground. 

“Solomon-!” she half-cried half-yelped, sprinting the rest of the way to where he lay. 

She was quick to place down her supplies and shakily sit down, staring at the unmoving goat.

She completely froze up seeing the state of him- the entire world seeming to be plunged under water as her mind struggled to come to grips with what her eyes were seeing. No-

He was completely motionless and still, laying face down with his arms curled in front of his head. She had no idea if he was breathing, if he was though, it was too weak to see from this angle.

“No- no no no no-” tears welled in her eyes, terrified to confirm any presence of life- the thought of what she may find terrified her far more than he himself ever could.

“Please be alive please be alive please gods-” She muttered repeatedly both to herself and Solomon, voice trembling and on the verge of cracking- hand hovering above him but not daring to make contact. 

She felt dizzy, the world spinning around her and simultaneously standing completely still. She couldn’t bear the thought of reaching down to touch the cold dead body of the man who she’d come to view as her little brother.

 Her brother who she’d allowed to be locked up to waste. Who she left here alone. Rotting. 

That thought sent a pang of dread through her as it dawned on her. 

She hadn’t treated his wounds. 

She hadn’t treated his wounds.

The longer she looked the more she truly noticed- the countless wounds riddling his body with nothing but cobwebs and ripped fabric to hold them shut, the reddened borderline necrotic skin, the bugs crawling all over his body. She’d found the problem.

“No no no Solomon please- I- I’m so sorry- I-” she became overwhelmed by sobs before she could finish, throat squeezing itself tight as fear and guilt slammed against every part of her.  

With a shaking hand she grabbed onto his shoulder- his skin was burning hot to the touch, but at least that meant he had to still be alive- but he was dying- he was dying- she let him get this bad- she let him start dying- 

Doing her best to suppress those thoughts, she was quick to roll him over onto his back, albeit with some difficulty from the chains still holding him, though with no resistance from he himself.

The sight that greeted her once she had him on his back was far, far worse- gasping in a mix of horror and disbelief as she laid eyes upon his face. The wounds from Safari’s attack covered his face and head, crusted blood almost completely obscured his fur while new wet blood trickled from his nose and forehead.

Breathing- was he breathing? Could he breathe? She sprung into action, carefully tilting his head back and gently opening his mouth- she wasn’t confident he could breathe at all from his nose, and if he could, it wasn’t well. She heard a soft gasp as she did. Ok- she was on the right track. Deep breaths. She needed to act fast.

She grabbed her box of medical supplies, producing a washcloth and drenching it in the bucket of water, bringing it to his face and starting to scrub at the bloodied wounds-

It only took about 10 seconds of this before she elicited a response. An almost silent whine of pain before one of his eyes began to slowly open- the other eye crusted shut by a thick layer of blood. 

The second she saw his eye open she placed down the cloth- a mix of relief and newfound panic immediately setting in.

 “SOLOMON! Solomon listen to me- stay with me- you need to stay with me you’re going to be ok-” She spoke frantically, searching desperately for any sign of consciousness left.

It was almost impossible to tell, his stare was glazed over and unfocused, and with each exhale he let out a quiet pained whimper. 

She carefully brought her hand to his face with the damp washcloth in her hand, cupping the side of his head gently in an attempt to soak up some of the blood whilst providing comfort- she wasn’t sure if it was more in an attempt to comfort him or herself.

“Solomon please- look at me, I’m going to help you, you’re going to be ok- keep breathing- just stay with me please-” She croaked out, trying in vain to hold herself together. She stared into his glassy eye, trying to find any hint of recognition or awareness behind it. 

She watched as he half focused his eye on her, managing to catch what she thought was the tiniest hint of himself behind the vibrant green stare.

He gasped slightly louder before attempting to speak, though all that came out was incoherent mumbling. She felt her heart sink upon hearing his voice, guilt only intensifying. He wasn’t himself- Gods above how did she let it get this bad…

She removed her hand from his head alongside the blood soaked cloth, grabbing a fresh one from the box and soaking it too before bringing it to his face to continue. 

Each time the cloth made contact he moved his head slightly, letting out various whines, cries, and whimpers of pain- though it was clear that was as much as he could physically do to protest it. She wasn’t even sure if he was aware enough of what was happening to want to protest more.

Ubathi mumbled apologies every few seconds, choking back sobs as she removed layers upon layers of dried gunk from each wound on his face.

 Vivid images of how he sustained each wound flashed in her mind. The sight of Safari sitting on top of him, beating his face relentlessly- watching the exact moment he stopped fighting- shoving them off of him while not knowing if he was even still alive, hearing the sounds of him choking on his own blood- begging him to stay alive while Scalene’s dead body sat only yards away- the memories made her want to hurl, and if she wasn’t trying to save his life, she probably would have.

Wiping away the last bit of dried blood from his closed eye, she carefully placed her thumb and forefinger on his eyelids- gently pulling them open. She cringed upon seeing the eye- it was very clearly infected. She’d take care of that later- there were more pressing issues.

Solomon’s sounds of protest as she cleaned his head were getting weaker and more infrequent- he was growing even more lifeless seeming, barely managing to keep his eye open- 

“No no no- c’mon Solomon stay with me I need you to stay with me- please-” 

Her scrubbing grew more frantic- she needed to hurry- she couldn’t let it end like this- 

She watched as his eye slipped shut, panic seizing her and sinking its talons into her back, strong enough to carry her away-

“NO-! No no no Solomon wake up please-” She placed her hand on his chest, feeling it feebly rising and falling- he was still alive- he was still alive, thank the Gods, he still had a chance.

She almost entered a daze, hand and body moving on autopilot as she disinfected, applied ointment to, and bandaged the wounds on his head- falling into a monotonous cycle. She finally finished, securing the final bandage firmly- his head covered in bandages, pads of cotton, and gauze. Ok. That’s the first part down.

Looking down to the rest of him, she took stock of what needed to be done- the first thing was removing his cloak and overshirt- he was still burning up and she knew they weren’t helping, she’d bring him fresh ones later. For now, they had to go.

She held out her hand, Ahab dissolving into a black liquid and snaking down from her head and into her hand, forming as a sharp pair of scissors.

She took a deep breath, dreading to keep going- acutely aware of how much she had left to do and how much was on the line. Focus. Now wasn’t the time to get emotional- she could have her mental breakdown later. 

She carefully slipped the scissors under the collar of his cloak, cutting it loose in one snip and tossing it to the side. 

Cutting along the front and sleeves of his overshirt, she slowly began removing it, unable to easily pull it from where it had been practically glued on from a mix of blood and Gods know what else. 

She heard him quietly groan as she peeled the fabric from his body, swallowing down the lump in her throat

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- it’s gonna be alright- I’m sorry-” She continued muttering apologies even as she freed him of the tattered shirt- throwing it to  the side. 

Ubathi took a sharp inhale, hand tremoring. With the shirt no longer obfuscating them, she could fully see the extent of the injuries. 

There was a large gash running from his shoulder down to his arm that she was almost certain she’d need to stitch. She could distinctly make out numerous slashes along his chest and arms, and despite being unable to see, she knew his back had similar wounds. 

Picking up a washcloth once more, she got to work.

She sat on the ground for hours, back aching and shoulder tired, but she couldn’t stop. Not for a moment. Every second counted- and she knew from experience how bleak his chances already were. 

She stitched the gashes along his shoulder and back- blocking out the occasional pained noise she heard,  holding back the tears that threatened to overcome her, the guilt and grief that tried to consume her, just fix him- just fix him- 

Finally, hours later, she leaned away- staring at the goat that still lay motionless on the ground, a folded blanket propped under his head and body covered in bandages that she knew wouldn’t last long if- no, no- when he woke up and was back to normal.

She sat hovering over him, refusing to move her gaze from him for even a second- terrified that if she looked away for one moment that he might stop breathing. She occasionally mumbled quiet apologies and words of comfort to him, though she didn’t really think he could hear. 

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, he finally opened his eyes. Ubathi shot to attention, scooting almost a foot away- she couldn’t risk being that close before she knew how awake he actually was this time. 

Both fortunately and unfortunately, he seemed almost equally as lethargic as he was previously- not trying to escape or sit up or scream obscenities, only groggily looking around and grumbling quietly. 

She sighed, she didn’t know what she expected, really. He wasn’t going to miraculously recover just because she’d cleaned and bandaged his wounds, not in the span of hours anyways. She was almost certain he’d gone septic, and he wasn’t out of the woods, not yet.

“S-Solomon…? Can you hear me?...” She asked tentatively, maintaining the foot of distance.

He groaned in response and looked over to her, seemingly attempting to lift an arm but giving up after barely being able to move his hand off the ground. He leaned his head back, too exhausted to bother caring about her presence, he closed his eyes again.

Ubathi sniffed, feeling her eyes once more becoming watery. She’d seldom ever seen him in a state like this. She could only recall 2 other times in the last 800 years that she had. This felt different though. 

In a way, it was her fault this time. 

She’d known he was down here. 

She’d known how badly he’d been injured.

…And she barely did anything. 

She… failed. 

She didn’t just fail- she failed him. 

“I-I’m so sorry-” She spoke softly and shakily, hand loosely gripping the front of her shirt. The eye closest to her partially opened. He looked so, so exhausted. Exhausted in a way she’d never seen anyone before. She let out a sob, grip tightening.

“Solomon I’m so sorry- I-” she paused, almost needing to gasp for air. “I’m sorry- I don’t want to do this…” she sobbed harder, eyes trailing to the chains that held onto her dying brother. 

“I… I still love you- I’m sorry…”

She took several deep breaths, reaching into the box of supplies and producing several bottles of water and a small bag of dry food. She placed them by him, standing up shakily.

“I’ll be back soon- I promise…” She whispered, forcing herself to turn and make her way back to The Doorway.

Even as she walked, she could still feel a one eyed stare burning into the back of her head as she left.