[private to curtainwizard]

[onlydisappear]

I didn't know.

[The first door they come to opens onto a bedroom that looks empty. As much as one can manhandle someone into a room carefully, that's how Matt does it. He steers Light towards the bed, turns him so he's facing the wall the headboard rests against

Comments

[curtainwizard]

[Light has dropped onto the bed as soon as it entered his awareness. It's surprising how much more bearable it all is, with his head resting on a flat surface; the nausea clears almost at once, and he can sleep - except - he knows there's some reason he shouldn't.

It's not Matt's instruction that makes him drag his feet around, but his own knowledge, the same way he knows to lift his wrist above his face. The knuckles rest on his forehead as he drops into unconsciousness.]

[onlydisappear]

No, stay awake.

[The pain will probably bring him back, Matt thinks, but he tries not to cause too much as he lifts Light's arm and assesses the injury. He heard the shot. No bullet, and stopping the bleeding is more important than a thorough cleaning right now. He starts wrapping gauze.]

[curtainwizard]

[The wrist is a mess, to put it in simple terms. The bullet entered on a diagonal; the hand is limp, supported by the outer carpal bones and layers of skin and not much else. There's a line of sight straight through it. Fragments of bone gleam white inside and around shredded meat and nerve bundles, arteries and veins. The circulation to the extremity is close to shutting down, and the whole sorry affair is oozing quietly.

Light doesn't scream again, but his eyes start out of his head, and his good hand tightens in the covers. It's that Matt. He doesn't like Matts, does he? - though he doesn't hate them like he hates Mel, right? The question that escapes is almost sane and coherent.]

... you washed your hands?

[onlydisappear]

Of course.

[Round and round. The gauze gets soaked through almost as soon as it goes on. Matt just keeps rolling it on until that stops. He's not thinking about how he can't possibly set it or fix it, not with mansion supplies, maybe not at all. He wraps a hand towel around the whole mess and holds pressure on it, and clamps his other hand around Light's elbow.]

What happened? [He wants the who and, most of all, the why.]