#field surgery

Skyloft called them dark keese; Hateno didn’t think much of it as they fought off a small swarm of them. They went down easily, like any other keese, but Hateno was wrong to assume that their simple appearance meant that he was safe from elemental attacks. Skyloft’s shouted warning was a moment too late as one keese dove past Hateno’s shield to sink its fangs in his arm. Hateno hissed, flexing his hand to dismiss his shield and immediately drove his stone fist into the bat’s body. The force of the blow sent the keese flying, dead on impact, but a wet crack and a lingering pain in Hateno’s arm told him that something had been left behind. Another keese swooped at him and he sent the signal for his shield to reform.

Nothing happened.

Not a good time!

Hateno ducked beneath the screeching bat and shouted “I need cover!”

Smith was there, slicing the remaining keese down while Hateno smacked some sense into his prosthetic. The impact jarred his left arm unplesantly and he growled, reaching to pull out the dislodged fang. His right arm fumbled again, useless fingers pushing it deeper into his skin instead.

“Shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Smith asked, kicking the last keese off her sword.

“My arm’s not responding,” Hateno complained, and tapped his pad to remove it altogether.

“Let’s see if Chief can take a look at it,” Smith suggested, her hand offered to help Hateno stand.

Hateno took it but his legs were weak under him, sending him staggering against Smith. “Woah- what the…”

“What’s this?” Smith asked instead, pointing at the angry red lump on Hateno’s arm. “Looks like Chief has more important things to check?”

“Ah yeah, I got bit.”

“So did Prince. It didn’t look like… that.”

Hateno cringed. “Riiight…”

“What’s going on?” Chief asked. Hateno hadn’t noticed Smith wave him over… or maybe he just had a sixth sense for trouble. Was that a standard part of medical training? “Weren’t you just wearing your arm?”

“It’s glitching so I took it off,” Hateno waved it off and offered his other arm for inspection. “This one got bit by one of those keese, I think you’ll need to pull it out.”

Chief frowned and turned Hateno’s arm over. “Pull what out?”

“The… fang…” Hateno hissed as he saw what Chief was looking at. “I tried to grab it and only pushed it in further. I didn’t think it would heal over so fast.”

Chief pushed down on the raw lump of skin on Hateno’s arm, making him yelp as he found the buried fang. “Sorry. Let’s find a place to sit so I can dig that out.”

Smith winced and clapped Hateno on the shoulder. “Well, have fun with that.”

“Thanks,” Hateno groaned as Chief led him to a quieter corner. His steps were unsteady, more uncoordination than nerves, and Chief picked up on it immediately.

“The paralytic is still in your system,” Chief stated. “Prince recovered within minutes.”

“What?”

“Skyloft said that those dark keese target your ability to fight. Rabbit and a few of the others reognized the type.”

“That’s why my arm stopped responding?” Hateno asked, and Chief nodded.

“I don’t know if the effect is a venom or a curse, but it’s safe to assume it’ll get worse the longer the fang remains in you.”

“Yeah,” Hateno sighed. “Let me grab my poppy milk and-”

Chief grabbed Hateno’s hand before he could touch his pad. “No painkiller. I’m sorry, but again, I don’t know how the paralytic could react.”

Hateno swore. “So I just have to hold still and feel you cutting me open?”

Chief directed him to sit down and pulled two scapels from his bag, comparing their sizes. “I could ask Smith to hold you?”

“No thanks.”

“Keeping still shouldn’t be an issue until I get the fang out,” Chief pointed out wryly. “But yes, you will feel it. You can have your medicine as soon as your arm is closed again, alright?”

“Yeah,” Hateno breathed, and extended his arm for Chief to work on; he tried to, anyway. Just like the prosthetic, it no longer moved when he told it to. “…You’ll have to move my arm.”

Chief hummed acknowledgement and stretched Hateno’s arm out. He cleaned the area around the keese bite and Hateno narrowly avoided biting his tongue as Chief raised the scapel to his arm.

“Deep breaths. I’ll have it out soon.”

Hateno opened his mouth to retort that he was breathing but an involuntary scream left him instead as Chief made the first cut into his skin. It was hard to stop screaming after that. Chief didn’t allow him time to catch his breath as he sliced deeper through layers of muscle, searching for buried fang. Hateno couldn’t pull away, he couldn’t fight back, he couldn’t even wipe the tears from his own face. He was trapped, not by Chief’s loose grip on his arm, but by that fucking curse the keese had embedded in him.

Chief exchanged his scapel for tweezers and Hateno did bite his tongue this time as metal and bone scraped inside his skin. Chief quickly pulled the fang out, his own hand starting to shake as the curse reached him too. Hateno watched through blurry eyes as, without a moment’s hesitation, Chief threw the fang into the fire that someone had started. There were a few startled yelps but no signs of a magical explosion.

They both sat quietly for a minute, Chief breathing heavily and Hateno still shaking with sobs that refused to stop even though it was over. His eyes were squeezed shut against the tears, so he didn’t realize that Chief had moved closer until there was a hand on the back of his neck and soft lips pressed to his.

That was certainly a surprise, though Hateno wasted no time in desperately leaning into the kiss. He tasted salt and copper and felt a warm glow in his chest because Chief had kissed him first. He was always so shy about it, Hateno had assumed that Chief had forgotten that he could initiate.

Hateno was reminded fondly of their first time, when Chief had been bedridden with stitches down his back. What Hateno had told Chief then stood true now.

“They say that a kiss makes the pain go away.”

He didn’t want Chief to pull away, even though rationally he knew that his arm was still open and bleeding. He opened his eyes to shining sea-green, a bemused smile on lips he tried to chase.

“Ah- not yet,” Chief said, holding him back with a hand on his chest. “Let me close this up, first.”

Hateno groaned in disappointment, but he couldn’t deny his relief as Chief helped him down a vial of poppy milk. He sighed, feeling the pain dull even as Chief pulled a needle and thread through the wound.

Felix sits in the metal chair, his breathing getting more uneven the longer the door remains shut. It's been easily fifteen minutes and yet the "doctor" is nowhere to be seen.

He can't hear anything, not even the guards that he knows are right outside the door. He wonders if this is part of the torture or if something has simply delayed it. Getting worked up before anything has even happened is illogical. He forces himself to breathe slower, determined to get his panic under control. Another five minutes pass before he hears voices in the hall to his right. The wide door swings open with a horrible screeching sound, grating on his nerves. He looks up and gasps, the doctor is not wearing his usual attire, no mask, no white coat, even usually slicked-back hair is in a state of disarray. The doctor's brown eyes glare at him as if he has already done something wrong. Felix bites his tongue, afraid that anything he says will be used against him in some way. The man turns to be directly in front of Felix, fully showing what he is holding in his right hand. Felix’s eyes widen at the object, a metal pipe that has been crudely cut in half, jagged sharp edges on one end. Fear flashes across his face as he looks up at his tormentor. The man says nothing, moving slowly until he is inches away from Felix's face. He whispers calmly, 

“You are an absolute pain in my ass.” Felix frowns but has no time to reply before the man moves faster than he can process. Cold sharp pain flares in his right side. He looks down, the pipe at least three inches in him, blood seeping around the edges. Air is forced from his lungs as he tries to breathe through the pain. He waits for the agony of it being ripped from him, but it doesn't come. The doctor takes a step back and admires his work. He nods affirmatively,

“They should be pleased with this.” Felix tries to understand the implications of the sentence but the pain in his side is growing, the foreign invasion sending his body into sensory overdrive. He wants to scream. The guards come, dark masks blurring in front of him as he tries to stay conscious. They move him roughly, ignoring his cries of protest as his side is jostled. Felix hears the buzzer and knows that the guards will drop him with no care about his side. The second they let go he turns his body, curling around the metal before it has a chance to impale him further. Hondo and Deacon are the first ones there, grabbing his shoulders and gently pulling his hands away from the pipe. Felix groans through clenched teeth, hissing in pain when someone moves his shirt. Tan winces as he sees the full extent of Felix’s injuries. Street moves quickly, sitting beside Felix and taking his left hand into his own. 

“Fucking hell.” Despite typically not approving such language Deacon nods in agreement, hands hovering tentatively above Felix. No one knows what to do. Felix coughs, blinking rapidly as tears threaten to fall. He grits his teeth,

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Hondo looks up, staring into the young face trying hard to keep composure. He almost makes a sarcastic quip about his feeling being a bit late but decides to humor him,

“Oh yeah, why’s that?” Felix smiles slightly, catching onto his tone. 

“Well, pretty sure y’all are about to get a first hand lesson in the extraction of foreign objects and sealing a gaping wound.” Street’s gaze snaps to Hondo, an edge of panic in his voice as he asks,

“We have nothing. No supplies, no water, we can't stop the bleeding, we can't clean it. What the hell do they expect us to do?” Hondo doesn't respond, his mind busy contemplating the different ways this could go. Deacon closes his eyes briefly, one hand on the silver cross that the guards somehow decided not to confiscate. Tan searches the room, as if some magical first aid kit is about to appear and solve some of their problems.

Felix coughs again, the movement pulling on his side and taking away his breath. Street squeezes his shoulder in silent support, worry creased into his features. Blood is sluggishly running down his side, soaking his black cargo pants. The room goes black as they are all plunged into darkness. No one moves, this hasn't happened before and no one wants to risk getting electrocuted. They hear the cell door swing open, closing with a bang not ten seconds later. The lights flicker back on, Hondo recovers first and gets up, moving to the cell door where a bag has been dropped inside the room. He immediately comes back over and begins rifling through the contents. He takes each item out, two bottles of water, a small square metal file, a blowtorch, a pair of pliers with rubber handles, some type of antiseptic cream, three washcloths, and a note. Felix turns his head  to the side and sees the items, dread settling in his stomach as he realizes what must happen. Hondo reads the note, anger flaring in his dark eyes, He goes to crumple it but Deacon's look of curiosity stops him. He hands it to Deacon, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Deacon finishes reading it, surprise crossing his face in disbelief. His voice is an octave higher,

“There’s no way. They can't be serious.”  Street’s impatience gets the better of him,

“What the hell does it say?” Deacon glances at Hondo before answering his question,

“It's a list of instructions on what to do.” Street tilts his head, gesturing for Deacon to elaborate. Hondo sighs, taking over for Deacon,

“They want us to remove it and then cauterize it. If we don’t, they will do the exact same thing to you and Tan.” Felix feels Street tense beside him, Tan’s voice interjects, his tone serious,.

“This could kill him.” Felix clears his throat, getting everyone’s attention,

“We don't have a choice. Leaving it in could cause sepsis and I die. Taking it out and not being able to stop bleeding means I die. Taking it out and cauterizing it could cause an infection and I could die. But more than likely they will save my life if it comes to that. They just want the most emotional and physical suffering.” He pauses, beads of sweat running down his forehead. 

“No one else needs to get hurt.” He stares at Hondo, pleading with him to see the logic in it. For once, Hondo looks away, his eyes refusing to meet Felix’s. Deacon opens his mouth to say something but hesitates when he sees Street's face. Felix looks around the room and realizes no one is understanding how serious he is. He gives no warning, pushing himself up with his right hand.

“Nnghh, fine, I’ll fucking do it myself.” He moves as if to grab the pipe when the room erupts in horrified shouts. He freezes, centimeters away from the cold metal, Hondo’s hand is tightly latched around his wrist. 

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Felix pants, eyes filled with pain and desperation,

“No one else gets hurt, you have to promise me.” Hondo stares at him, resignation slowly creeping into his expression. He nods, letting go of Felix’s wrist,

“Fine, no one else gets hurt. I promise.” Street supports Felix, helping him lay back down. Hondo looks over at Deacon, a grim expression mirroring his own. Theo can sense the change in both of them, Hondo begins to issue commands,

“Alright, Tan and Street, both of you will be responsible for holding him down. Deacon, you will heat the metal, I will take out the pipe and flush it with water as best as I can. Then we will try to cauterize it in one go.” His command is met with reluctant nods, Tan moving slowly to Felix's legs. Street repositions himself, Felix’s head is now propped against his chest, Street wrapping him in what looks like a bear hug from behind. The hiss of the blowtorch being turned on makes Felix's stomach do somersaults. Pressure increases on his legs as Tan uses his body weight to anchor him. Hondo opens the water bottles and inspects them. He then takes one of the washcloths and rolls it up before approaching Felix. 

“You said that the volume can only get to a certain decibel right?” Felix nods, understanding dawning in his hazel eyes. A flicker of regret shows on his face before he manages to hide it. He holds it in front Felix, who only slightly hesitates before biting down on it. Hondo glances over at Deacon,

“Where are we at Deac?” Street’s breath hitches as he looks at what Deacon has been doing. The small square piece of metal now glowing bright like an ember. Deacon’s voice is quiet, Felix straining to what what he says,

“Ready when you are.” Felix’s lungs constrict but he refuses to panic, taking deep measured breaths as he avoids thinking about anything going on around him. Hondo works efficiently, ripping Felix's shirt in one swift movement, Felix tenses, shrinking away from Hondo. Street’s arms tighten around him, securely keeping him in place but also giving him something to ground himself to. Hondo gestures for Deacon to come over, He stops briefly, getting Felix’s attention,

“Take deep breaths, it's okay, we’ve got you. You will probably pass out, that's fine, don't fight it. Just hang in there okay? we’ll be as quick as possible.” Felix nods, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into Street’s shoulder. Hondo turns and makes eye contact with Tan, giving a small nod of support. He then looks back at Street, feeling a pang of sympathy at the mix of emotions crossing his face. He takes a deep breath, encouraging Street to do the same.

He pours some of the precious water on his hands before grabbing the pipe, Felix moans, fingers digging into Street’s arms. In one careful movement Hondo pulls the pipe out, a horrible squelching sound echoing through the room. Felix screams into the washcloth, back arching off the ground as he tries to escape the pain. Hondo works quickly, pouring water into the gaping wound. Felix’s muffled sobs threaten to break his resolve but he continues on, he uses one of the washcloths and wipes away the blood and water as much as he can before moving out of the way for Deacon.

He helps Street and Tan, shifting to be able to hold down Felix’s hips, silently begging for the young officer to pass out. Deacon doesn't give himself time to think about what he is doing before putting the burning metal down on the jagged bleeding hole on Felix’s side. The smell of burning flesh fills the room, Street involuntarily gagging. Deacon’s eyes water but he keeps the piece of metal pressed down, Felix writhes beneath his touch, the only thing he knows is agony. Tan underestimates Felix's strength, getting momentarily thrown off as Felix digs his heels into the cement floor, trying desperately to escape the pain ravaging his body. Street knows Felix can't hear him but he whispers words of comfort anyway,

“I’ve got you. It's okay, you’re going to be okay.” 

“Hang in there buddy, just a little bit longer.” 

“Take it easy, easy bud, easy.”

Felix feels like someone is ripping out his insides and setting them on fire. It consumes him, excruciating pain filling every part of him. He can't hear anything over the sound of his own screams. His vision goes white. He doesn't know how long it takes before the pain begins to lessen, his screams slowing to broken sobs. Someone takes the washcloth out his mouth and he can’t stop himself from pleading, throat raw and raspy as he begs,

“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry, please stop.” Hondo grabs his face, gently holding his head up,

“Felix, it's over, we're done Felix. It's all over.” Felix dares to open his eyes, unable to hide the fear he feels as he sees Hondo and Deacon in front of him. He whimpers pitifully,

“You- you promise?” Deacon’s heart constricts painfully at the broken words, the man in front of him all of a sudden looking more young than ever before. Hondo runs a hand through Felix’s sweaty blond curls, giving him a brave smile,

“I promise. You did so good Felix. You can rest now.” Felix manages to nod, tears still streaming down his face. He slowly untenses, his body starting to go slack as he mumbles,

"Teammate 1" Came a voice not too far from Team Leader.

"Teammate 2" Another sounded from farther down the mine shaft.

"Medic!" A voice yelled directly in Team Leader's ear. "Who screamed earlier? Are you alright?"

"That was me. Teammate 4. A rock hit me in the head, but I think I'm okay." A fourth voice called from somewhere behind them.

"They're probably not." Medic whispered and a dimming flashlight flickered to life. Medic's dust covered face was illuminated eerily behind it as they swept it over the small area looking for Teammate 4.

In the distance in front of Team Leader, another flashlight flickered on, brighter than Medic's. It illuminated the whole of the room to reveal that the exit, the way the team had come was almost completely covered in rubble, blocking all of their exits with the possible exception of Teammate 3, who was the smallest and most agile of them.

"Teammate 3" Team Leader called. "Are you dead?"

Silence followed. Team Leader's stomach instantly twisted into knots and they regret being so cavalier with the death jokes.

"Teammate 3!" They called again, Their eyes darting over the room.

Teammate 1 was standing off to Team Leader's side, near another pile of rubble that had not been there a few minutes ago. Their shirt was ripped and there was a large quantity of blood on their leg, that they of course were not acknowledging. Teammate 2 who had the working flashlight, was farther down, smartly away from most of the rock fall and in the part of the tunnel that was still open. Teammate 4 and Medic were together now near the wall of rubble. Teammate 4 was in fact bleeding profusely from a nasty gash on their forehead. But they looked lucid enough as they and Medic looked back at Team Leader with alarmed expressions.

"Teammate 3!" Team Leader yelled again holding terrified eye contact with Medic. In the silence that followed, there was finally a response. A tiny whine immitted from a pile of rubble near the corner of the wall, so quiet, Team Leader wouldn't have been able to hear it if a pin had dropped at the same moment.

"not dead yet, leader."

Team Leader was over to the rock pile in a second. Pushing and throwing rocks out of the way until Teammate 3 began to emerge among the rubble.

They had a bad gash on the side of their head. When Teammate 2, who had jumped in to help, moved a rock off their pelvis they had screamed in pain. Their femur appeared broken. So did one of their arms, which they had thrown over their face to protect it. Their other arm was in the worst shape. Or so Team Leader assumed it must be. It was completely buried under the wall of rubble. Team Leader could just barely make out Teammate 3's elbow before their entire forearm disappeared at the bottom of the massive pile heavy boulders that was blocking the team's exit.

"Medic!" Team Leader yelled over their shoulder. But Medic was already there; crouching just behind Team Leader with their flickering flashlight.

"Out of my way." They ordered Team Leader in an authoritative voice that made Team Leader jump out of their path without hesitation. They watched Medic for a minute as they shined their flashlight into Teammate 3's eyes and palpatated their body, making Teammate 3 scream in pain, all while asking them soft questions Teammate 3 could barely manage the answers to. When Medic finally got to the concerning arm injury Team Leader finally snapped out of their trance and turned to the rest of their crew.

"We have to start dismantling this wall." They ordered. "Teammate 2 help me with this. Teammate 1, you help Medic. Teammate 4, you just rest. I'm concerned about your head."

"Wait." Medic said over their shoulder. "Don't touch the wall yet. If it destablizes it could all come falling on Teammate 3 and I."

"How else are we supposed to get Teammate 3 out of there then?"

Medic stood up and turned towards Team Leader. In the shadowy light of the two flashlights, their face looked grave, but Team Leader was pretty sure it would have looked like that in the sunshine too. They walked over to Team Leader and gave a minute shake of their head.

"Even if we could get out of here, we wouldn't be able to save it. The bones are dust." Medic whispered so only Team Leader could hear. Their heart sank, but as they looked into Medic's dark, apologetic eyes, they knew they wouldn't be saying this if it wasn't absolutely true. This was going to be horrible.

"Okay. Change of plans" They said still holding eye contact with Medic. "Medic is in charge. Listen to them."

Medic nodded gravely and went over to their pack. Team Leader felt defeated. Deflated. They were supposed to protect their team, but here they were buried in an underground mine with almost no one knowing where they were. Three people were injured, one of whom was close to death's doorstep and about to get even closer.

You haven't failed as a leader yet.

They tried to tell themselves.

If you get everyone out of here alive you did the best you could.

But this wasn't even about their leadership really. Teammate 3 was looking at them with partially glazed over eyes, lips parted in the most confusion they could muster with the concussion they were probably sporting. They had no idea what was about to happen.

Medic came back with their medical kit.

"I know we all have flasks here. Get them out. Who ever has the highest proof gets to save there's, the rest of you, feed yours to Teammate 3. This is the only pain medication we have here. Teammate 1, I'm going to need your help, get behind Teammate 3 and help support them. Teammate 2, Teammate 4, you guys will be holding the flashlights on us, Team Leader-"

Medic turned to teamleader and handed them a wad of gauze and a book of matches.

"I don't have equiptment here to do stitches when we're done with this." They told Team Leader in a low voice. "You take the last flask of alchol and be ready to soak the gauze and light her up as soon as I say alright.?"

Team Leader nodded, feeling a little detatched as they agreed to Medic's orders. Medic nodded as well and swallowed hard before looking Team Leader back in the eye.

"You have the saw, right?"

It was only then, aparently, that Teammate 3 seemed to realize what was about to happen.

"Medic?" They said, the glazed look in their eyes suddenly fading into pure terror. They feably pushed away the flask Teammate 1 was now feeding them with their one hand and tried to sit up as best they could.

"Medic. Why do you need the saw? Medic? Why do you need the saw?"

Their voice got shriller with each word. Both Team Leader and Medic stoically ignored them as the saw was produced from Team Leader's pack and handed to Medic. They couldn't even look each other in the eye as the tool that was about to alter Teammate 3's life forever changed hands between them.

"Medic? You don't have to do this. Please don't do this."

"Finish feeding them the alchol." Medic ordered in a hollow, blank voice. Teammate 1 obliged and pressed the flask back to Teammate 3's lips and forced their head back to tip it into their throat. Teammate 3 screamed and moaned around the neck of the flask. Tears bursting in their eyes.

"Medic! Please!" They screamed shrilly once the flask was empty. "Please don't cut off my arm! There has to be another way!"

Medic walked over to them and knelt close to Teammate 3's arm.

"There isn't " They said sadly. "I'm sorry."

As Teammate 3 opened their mouth to scream again Medic suddenly produced a second wad of gauze and shoved it in their mouth.

"We can't have you screaming too loud or the sound waves could cause another collapse." They explained Teammate 3's eyes widened with a mixture of terror and anger, and they began to scream against their gag again and struggle. Medic purposefully looked away from them and at Teammate 1 who had already taken up their place behind Teammate 3.

"You're job is going to be make sure Teammate 3 moves as little as possible throughout this. Hold them as still as you can." Medic told them. Teammate 1 nodded and proceeded to manvouer themselves around Teammate 3 so that they had them practically imobilized while still managing to stay out of Medic's way. It didn't escape Team Leader's notice that Teammate 1 had managed to position themselves so that Teammate 3 wouldn't be able to see what was about to happen. Before totally settling themselves they leaned forward and kissed Teammate 3 on the side of the head.

"You're going to be okay." They said in a low voice and Medic began to postion themselves to start the procedure. Team Leader was so focused on the building horror that was happening infront of them that they at first didn't notice Teammate 4 hold out the final flask to them.

"Here boss." They whispered. When Team Leader looked up at them, they could see the reflection of the flahslights shine in their eyes. They had started crying. After a moment Team Leader noticed for the first time that they had tears running down their face as well.

"Just so you know. Teammate 1, Teammate 2 and I all took swigs of it. But there should be plenty left."

Team Leader nodded and took it from them. They didn't have the heart to be mad about that. And when they looked over at Medic, they were looking back at the flask as though they were jealous they weren't able to take a drink from it. Team Leader looked Medic directly in the eye and took a swig themselves.

"We're ready when you are Medic."

Medic gave them a nod. Then looked back at Teammate 3 one last time. Teammate 3 had dissolved into tears and was moaning something over and over again through their gag that Team Leader was pretty sure was "please"

"You're probably going to pass out from the pain quickly." Medic said trying to maintain a clinical voice, and failing. "Don't try and fight for consciousness. I promise we'll take care of you. When you wake up again this will all be over."

Teammate 3 began to cry harder, and Medic paused, their cold clinical expression breaking.

"I'm sorry Teammate 3. I'm so sorry that I have to do this."