(open) Attention, all personnel. It's that time again.

[swill]

Who| Hawkeye and anyone, with specific scenarios for Ellie and Guy Crood
What| Surviving the second week in this new hell
Where| Sticking near the center of the island, but wandering around
When| Week 4
Warnings/Notes| Want to maul him? Let me know! I'll update warnings as needed.
Ellie
Ellie's hollow tree had served as his first shelter against the jungle, though being part of it itself. A dead part of it, so naturally Hawkeye thinks he feels some comfort keeping in its skeleton. The rains wouldn't stop, though, and there was only so much he could take of being confined to such a small, suffocating area for long. Hunger was new to him when a lot of things weren't- he'd taken to chewing on the collar of his shirt late at night and reminding himself of a baby with a pacifier. It was embarrassing and his ears would sometimes burn red with frustration. He was supposed to be the adult and the strong one and he still played with the chain of his dog tags between his teeth for the sake of tasting something other than plain lukewarm nothing. The metallic taste would remind him of blood and then he'd just get scared and drop the chain with a tink and roll his head back and listen to the pains in his stomach instead before drifting off to sleep. The human body was an incredible thing. He knew. It could go much longer than he had without food, with horrors.

The screams would ring out at night and he didn't know who or what they were from and sometimes he'd feel like springing to his feet and going to the source and other times he'd mutter in a heated breath, "Shut up, shut up," and trek the now muddied jacket over his head. Sometimes animals would run past- then he'd take his own advice and can it.

He'd said he wouldn't play their game, whoever 'they' were who supposedly had cameras hidden in the clouds and rocks. But the anxiety and guilt were quick to try and persuade Hawkeye otherwise. He can't just hide. Sit in the mud and rot away. He-- the girl can. The girl he's been with can. The girl didn't have a career, she didn't have to worry about others dying. She wasn't just hiding away when she could be helping. She couldn't do anything, so there was nothing to do, Hawkeye reasoned. They'd have to move from the tree eventually. He made his way out of the hiding spot as silently as he could on weak legs.

Almost immediately a white spot crossed his vision- he figured it might be from the dehydration until the spot became clearer, came nearer. A parachute. Small. It caught on a low lying branch to his left. It beeped. A metal canister.

Hawkeye thought it was going to blow.

He turned in panic, slipped in the mud and scrambled a ways on his hands and knees until he got to his feet again and cried out, "Down! Stay down!" Because a hollow tree blown to bits would mean shrapnel but if Ellie could cover her head-- and he practically bulldozes into her, the poor thing, and forces her down and muscles her head down and against his chest and though he's sore and stiff as a board with tension, he realizes just how odd it was that the assumed bomb hadn't exploded yet.

It was his first arena. The hell did he know about sponsor gifts?

Guy
After he had wolfed down his food, he decided to go out and scout. Because- back to his previous train of thought- a hollow tree wasn't adequate shelter. Nothing was, short of a real house, and he was beginning to think that finding one of those here was impossible. Notice, though, that Hawkeye still held out hope.

Part of him still wished a MASH unit would show right around the bend. He couldn't find his way around a jungle but he could around tents and flag poles and terrible shacks impersonating functional hospitals. He opens his mouth to complain to nothing, but snaps it shut. His first week had taught him to shut up unless he was with friends. -common sense to others. Hawkeye would argue he never had to learn that, but rather that he never believed his predicament was what everyone said it had been. The world around him seemed slower than before. Brighter, but slower. He'd sworn he would have killed by now if Rosie's ever came in sight but it had all been in jest. He pushes a heavy leaf out of his way and trudges on, remembering how he used to wonder how anyone could stand still. Now he wondered how anyone had the energy to move, let alone the energy, mental and physical, to kill people. Eva's attempts at his life came back, and Hawkeye snapped his head up.

And almost right ahead was a young man he'd seen his first night, who had trapped him. He didn't look well and Hawkeye told himself to pay more attention where he was going because some people out there apparently had no qualm with savagery.

"I'm going to start billing you," Hawkeye warns, teasing grin on his lips because he'd fight against his bedside manner deteriorating until he simply couldn't anymore. "You don't believe me, but I mean it. I'm a doctor, you know, I can name any outrageous price I want." And he hopes he doesn't get a spear in the gut when he steps closer to the guy turned dog chow. "What happened?"

Open
He knew there were caves somewhere because of Holiday. She had mentioned them the first time they'd met and he now counted her message and gift of food as a second meeting. He now kept an eye open for cameras, actively looking for them during his walks. He never found any and despite everything still doubted there was an eye on him at all times. It was an alien concept- then again, this was an alien world despite how much it looked like something that could be found in his. Three times he almost stepped on discarded beer cans. He had bent over and taken a sniff and wrinkled his nose and gagged and wondered why he ever thought it would be a good idea to do what he did. Then he had chucked the cans- all but one Hawkeye stuffed in a pouch in his jacket. It was odd to move with it just there, but aluminum was malleable and- and something, alright? It would be good for something.

By the time he had swatted at the hundredth mosquito, he was feeling winded. No, he just wasn't cut for toughing it out in the wilderness. He wanted to go home. He wondered about the Four-Oh-Seven-Seven. Some chief surgeon he was, behind enemy lines anywhere he turned, never where he should be doing what he hated but had a duty to do. Suppose he shouts at the cameras that are supposedly everywhere and asks kindly for an aid station- a thatched roof and stretches and some blood and needles and bandages and a lot of penicillin. Optimist he is, stupid he isn't.

And besides, if he wanted to perform, he'd just drop his pants.

A yawn wasn't exactly the sort of reaction he had expected from himself at the thought. There's mild disappointment in his features because of it -men and women behaving like animals, why couldn't he? For starters, because there was now a chirp, chirp, chirp echoing through the jungle that Hawkeye had heard before though not during the day. It sounded closer, and with that he quickened the pace to return to his headquarters. He'd search for the caves later, maybe, probably not. He knew he would have to but-- so how about he focuses on staying in one piece throughout the rest of the evening first?

Comments

Permission to injure him maybe

[polyturtle]

More Tributes. They would keep coming, always, no matter what. It was the nature of the Games. Be entertaining, or fade out. It was all he existed for now. Wasn't it

Indeed, the shadow suddenly looming overhead was not a good sign for Hawkeye. His eyes narrowed at the familiarity of the figure...no. It couldn't matter. That was not his life - surely it had never been.

Go for it /o/

[swill]

He hardly ever turned his sights to the trees- to what's above, rather. He knew he should, knew everything was a danger, but it wasn't a habit drilled into his skull quite yet that suspicion had to extend to every damned thing in sight. He had found himself worrying over land mines more times than he cared for though he'd convince himself it wouldn't do any good to stand still with a blood thirsty world spinning around him. So while he had kept his steps as quiet as he could, more in fear for the strange animals he knew were around than for the people (people couldn't hear so well, he figured), Hawkeye still didn't know that noise wasn't always the first give away.

Light was it now. He stops- looks around him, for God's sake, before he realizes with a cold sense of sardonic triumph that the light blocked meant something above. But the trees and their leaves and vines intertwined this way and that and green was a color he was insanely sick of- he steps forward gingerly, not seeing any definite form but knowing running wouldn't buy him time. He knew he wasn't fast. The least he could be was quiet, even if it was absurd.

[polyturtle]

No, no, it didn't help that the creature is also green. And also, that his opponent was a ninja.

In an instant he landed - behind Hawkeye. Did he teleport? Flip over? Slide? Who knew. Don did, but he wasn't telling. Not to his potential victim. Not when he was on the offensive. Indeed, the boomerang was out and at the ready, with Don ready to lob it at the older man's back.

[swill]

Now that was impossible to ignore. The sound of a weight falling, landing heavy on the jungle floor, made him whip around before he could think of why. There are images, though, in his head and he thinks of those noises, the chirping and trilling noises in the night and the sound of animals that traveled in packs. He never expected to see what he did. Even his dreams were tame, somewhat, compared to this. At the very least, the monsters in his dreams were terrible enough on their own without needed the help of an actual weapon. Now Hawkeye has to wonder if he would have preferred the boomerang embedded in his back than his chest. A part of him thinks so. "Don't throw that!" He yells, hearing himself hoarse and desperate like he hadn't quite thought of himself before.

What else can he do, really? Think about all the ways this is wrong, think about all the ways he's scared out of his wit? The thing was ready to kill him. "Don't throw that."

[polyturtle]

Don't throw that? Really?

"Why not?"

Happy day for Hawkeye, it talked.

[acroodawakening]

Guy was beyond not looking well right now. His skin was almost grey, he was sweating profusely and shaking, and it seemed like he was having trouble controlling his limbs. To even stay upright as he walked, he was leaning heavily against his spear.

Then there was that nose, which was most likely broken and still bleeding slightly.

He spat out blood so he could speak.

"Bad day," he gasped out.

Then he tried to take another step, and when he realized his leg had suddenly decided to stop working, he looked at Hawkeye and gasped out a quiet, terrified, "help" before starting to collapse in Hawkeye's direction.

[swill]

Understatement of the century, right? Hawkeye finds himself moving faster to close the distance between them. Ah, how perfectly chummy. "Really? I couldn't tell." His arms are out when Guy begins to fall, and Hawkeye's proving his strength is worth naught as he attempts to juggle Guy into a position that'll keep him from faceplanting but the weight is eventually too much. Hawkeye feels knees beginning to give, and he stumbles back. He'll lower Guy jerkily to the ground. --at least so Hawkeye can kneel over him, and maneuver the body so it's near sitting, too. "I got ya," he says finally. Not the most heroic catch of his career, for sure, but the second that's taken care of his hands wander and put pressure this way and that around Guy's torso. Right under his shoulder blades. What was up with spitting blood, he wondered? Worry was winning over. Could have been from a busted lip, a result of a good sock in the jaw. Could be something else.

The nose he'd seen. He'd seen too many like it to give it so much as a second thought. The paleness, clamminess, shivering was disconcerting. Screw searching for broken bones- and Hawkeye'd scold himself something awful if he could- he immediately presses two fingers against Guy's neck, just under his jaw. "I'm checking your pulse," he announces maybe louder than he should because he wasn't keen on startling the patient. "You could be in shock. Dizzy? Why am I even asking? You collapsed at my feet. The hell happened to you? I'm serious about charging you, you know. I don't normally make house calls and this is the second tally I've marked under your name in the phone book."

[acroodawakening]

"I promise I'll pay you back. Possibly in food."

Fortunately the blood in his mouth was mostly just blood that had dripped into his mouth from his nose. He was started to drool a little though, as if his mouth was producing too much saliva. Where Hawkeye's fingers were pressed against Guy's clammy skin, he'd feel a pulse at rapid staccato, dangerously fast, but it was starting to skip beats and slow down. Soon, it would start getting too slow. He was practically dripping with sweat and his pupils were also dilated.

"Little girl," he gasped. "Little girl with a mangled leg. Shredded to -" He cut himself off. "She was dying. I asked her if - if she wanted me to make it quicker. Since she was in agony."

He closed his eyes tightly. He felt no guilt but that didn't mean it hadn't been disturbing.

"Before she - before I - she said a woman with one eye was the one who'd maimed her." He opened his eyes again. "Not a very nice lady. I ran into her and she tried to kill me. It was me or her and after what she did to that little girl..."

He leaned forward and gestured with a shaking hand at his shoulder. There was a little puncture wound there. The area around it was bright and dangerous red, but not pussy. Inflammation, not infection. (Yet, at least.)

"I got her pretty good but she poisoned me with a dart. I think she also broke my nose."

Drool started to drip from his mouth onto his chest.

"Shelter. Need to move to - before I can't walk anymore. My muscles are locking up. Getting weak. Everything hurts."

The plants here didn't have a direct equivalent to plants in their worlds but what Hawkeye was seeing was similar to hemlock poisoning. And there was more to come: ataxia, tremors, seizures. Lots of fun stuff.

[swill]

There would be time to address how serious he wasn't sure he wasn't being later.

As Guy talked on about his personal horror story, Hawkeye peeled off his jacket and felt, he thought, all the cold of the jungle that wasn't there. The words hit him clear, which was a good sign in spite of it all, and which made for a particularly spectacular exercise in keeping himself steady. The sight, then feeling, as he wrapped the jacket around Guy's shoulders, of drool made his own mouth water but he swallowed and thanked God that he could, though why he wasn't sure of at all. The wounded shoulder would have to keep because Guy was right--

"Uh huh."

Thick skin came with the territory. Hawkeye had seen his share of maimed girls and dead girls and had brought killers back to life. And what had he said before? Just another day at the office. Holiday hadn't believed him- bah! One eyed woman- he kept that filed away.

"I found a girl too, but she'll be alright."

--so Guy was right. And Hawkeye cupped the man's chin and turned it up. "Keep your head up. Breathe evenly. I'm going to stand up and you'll stand up with me. Lean on me. We won't walk far and you'll get worse before you get better." And he forced an arm over his own shoulder, gave a nudge as a signal and didn't wait any longer before he was hurting all over, rising to his feet in what could pass as a fluid movement, cooperation or not. A hundred yards is what he's hoping for because the cover was thicker there, though it would mean more risk than an open spot when the real fun would begin. "Come on, big guy. Fast is good." He missed the good old days of bum legs and ignorance. --a mercy kill. Damn.

[acroodawakening]

"Kids," he gurgled. "Little kids..."

It was all he could say before the exertion of moving - and the fact he was drooling all over himself - made it too hard to speak.

Guy struggled along with all the persistence of someone who'd faced situations before where his survival had depended on how far he could move before succumbing to dehydration, hunger, or injury - or all three at once. That is to say that they got more than a hundred yards. Not much more and it was a struggle the whole way there, but they managed. There was, mercifully, a fallen tree, now hollow, that they could take shelter in. It was large enough for them to sit upright in comfortably.

"Here," Guy gasped out. "Here's good."

People passing by would possibly not even notice them in there and the whole place reeked of the earthy smell of damp wood, which could help disguise their smell from things like the raptors.

Even if it didn't suit their needs, it was clear that Guy wasn't going to make it any farther, because his legs were starting to go rubbery and useless underneath him. He was also gasping and going even paler as his pulse and blood pressure tanked.

"If I start - to make - too much noise - leave," he gasped out. "Take my things - and leave. No point in - in both of us dying."

If he started dying, if he started to make a lot of noise doing it, he didn't want Hawkeye to stay, get found out, and killed because of it. Especially when Hawkeye had proven more than once that he was a kind enough person to go out of his way to help people.

[onlyimmune]

She was getting so hungry that moving or complaining was becoming a mammoth task, and her ankle, though better, meant that even if she did have the energy she couldn't move around much.

Besides, this was the safest place she'd been in days. No velociraptors. No crazy ass tributes launching themselves out of trees. Yeah, Hawkeye was a bit nuts, but he was a harmless and almost endearing sort of nuts.

Not that he wasn't driving her just a little crazy lately with his pacing and his chewing.

She wanted to kick herself, for not being able to do anything here. She could hunt. She was a great hunter, she had hunted all through the leanest winter she could remember. She'd kept herself and Joel alive-- (Oh god, Joel. No, Ellie. He's not here. Just don't think about it. Don't.)-- even when he was injured. She could have kept herself and Hawkeye fed no problem, even with the leg.

If everything in this fucking place wasn't poisonous.

She didn't even really have the energy to ask him where he was going when he left the hollow of the tree. She did, however, shakily stand up, testing her weight. No way in hell was she letting him leave her behind. Not if she had a goddamn breath in her bod--

WHAM.

He slammed into her and she hits the ground, hard, and he's on top of her and the panic immediately sets in. The panic, and the flashbacks, and suddenly she has lots of energy, striking out in every way she can, a tangle of fury and limbs.

"Get off me! Hawkeye, get the fuck off me!"

[swill]

He holds her. Keeps her down. There had been a handful of times he'd exerted all of his energy at one time for any one task since his arrival in the arena and this was now one of them. It's a strategy he knows- elbows on the patient's upper arms, chest low, head down, knees on either side of their legs, gripping if possible. He feels a scratch and the accompanying sting across his chin, feels duller impacts where he's sure he might bruise if it keeps on. Heavy he wasn't but he was definitely heavier than her- right now, it was a blessing.

The shrieking hurts his ears as much as her fear hurts the sense of loyalty he'd thought he'd strung from her. Energetic was something she was that he wasn't, though he'd argue the panic was about the same. He feels himself waver, nearly let up on her more times than he can count in the very quick moments that pass. As determined as she was to get away -who could blame her?- he was as determined to keep her under. Mud on his hands and everywhere made it difficult to maneuver himself, the way they both were. Another sharp sting, another scratch maybe. Maybe he finally pulled something with how tense he is. He can't think, he just waits. Deafening seconds tick past. He still hears beeping outside of all the yelling and his own shallow, quickened breaths. Christ, his heart would break if this kept on. He was forcing her down. That can't be anything good in her mind.

Finally he figures that if he parts his lips enough he won't flood her with the rush of apologies begging to be let out. Apologies wouldn't help the matter, they'd worsen it.

"Sh- shut. Shut up. El- Ellie. Eliie, shut up." Not that that helped anything, either. Seconds. It had only been seconds, and he was already exhausted. "There's a bomb outside! Stop thrashing, you'll hurt your foot!" Christ. But outside of their own tangle, nothing was happening.

[onlyimmune]

She's fully into panic mode, and the fact that Hawkeye is good at holding her down isn't exactly doing much to mitigate it. She doesn't let up the fight (she won't, she won't, she won't go down quietly) but when he starts talking to her then something in her brain breaks through the panic.

Bomb. Bomb?

"Why the fuck would there be a bomb! Fucking--! Nothing is blowing up, for fuck's sake! Get off!!"

[swill]

And Christ, he knows he shouldn't be thinking it-- but please, God, don't let her knee him where it would hurt.

There's a steady and heavy stream of confusion slipping into him. It rides along with the dull but still audible, to him, beeping of the silver canister and begins to distract him. First, from maintaining such an iron grip. Second, from the barrage of twisting and movement on Ellie's behalf. His own chin's tucked in, his face near Ellie's only because he hadn't dared lay it on her chest. But why the f-- He stares to one side of her for a moment before turning back with a hard scowl. Nothing was blowing up. It was true. He could feel his ears and bridge of his nose burning already, despite the fact that he was already drenched in sweat. Some artillery just... took a while. Suppose he let her go and--

so finally she wins.

And he stares off to one side of her again, brows furrowed, blue eyes narrowed, lips turned down and he hoists himself up over her- lets go of her arms and gets up off her chest but he still sort of... kneels over her legs, uncertain. "Damn." And it's a heated word when he now feels the heat of error engulfing him.

"Damn it, shut up. There is something out there." But the anger's not at her and for the most part it's dissipated from his words. Half way through, Hawkeye could almost swear the waver in his voice was one of those apologies wanting to break out. His skin's crawling again. He hated this place. He turns- casts a quick glance over his shoulder and at the... thing. The parachute. Clearly visible just ahead. And he's still breathing hard and looking dazed and half-way kneeling over the girl he just toppled over and pinned down and lay on top of. He rolls off of her completely. Jerks himself to a stand a second later. The sense of urgency hits again. "I don't wanna find out what it is. Let's get out of here. Did you hurt your foot? Ellie?"

[onlyimmune]

His weight is off her chest and shoulders and she sucks in a breath like she's just breached the ocean - gulping it down as if she hadn't breathed in days. She's still pinned, but she's stopped thrashing, at least for a second, and when he finally rolls off her completely she scrambles to the side to put as much distance between them as possible.

Her heart was hammering, racing, and she was desperately trying to get it under control.

"If I did then it's your fucking fault!" She snaps at him, the panic and the quickly building anger making it sharp as a whip crack. "Fucking-- Don't you ever fucking do that to me again. Do you understand me? I don't fucking care if the sky is falling."

She's shaking. She hadn't realized it until just then, but the fear and the adrenaline had gotten right through her blood to the very ends of her limbs and she was shaking. She sucked in a breath and held it, to try and make the quaking stop, but all it did was force it into a quieter state.

"Why the fuck would they try to bomb us in a death match?"

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy had gotten separated from Pruna...again.

She hated how easily it was for them to lose each other in this jungle. With Pruna's one eye it seemed like if Sandy didn't keep a constant eye on her the girl would just vanish into the plants and not notice Sandy had fallen silent until they were lost and apart.

But shouting her name was completely out of the question lest she attract the attention of some other predator. So for now she had found a pool of water at the entrance to a cave and was casually flicking rocks into it waiting to see if Pruna doubled back.

There was something ominous about the dark pool and how she couldn't see just how deep it was. But she didn't dare get close enough to stick her arm in. She'd seen how poisonous the water was when she was watching other tributes in the cornucopia's TV room. She didn't even want it on her arm.

[swill]

The caves weren't as difficult to find as Hawkeye had figured. Of course, finding them only came after days of wandering the wrong way, hours at a time. He kept himself hidden as well as he knew how in the jungle, looking them over, rather than pacing at the mouth. It was a sign he was getting savvy, maybe. But anyone with real sense in their head would stop hiding and risk it to explore just one dark opening. There would be no better shelter in the arena than here. And shelter was needed. Hawkeye takes a moment for himself, to rest against a tree. Hunger was making him light headed and weak- weaker than usual. It was a real danger. But he wouldn't die from it yet.

Dehydration was another story entirely. He swallows, he tries not to think back on how poor the intake of liquids was compared to the output. Maybe that was why his ears decided to tune in to the faint sound of something dripping. It was familiar but why he couldn't place it. It was a chore to pry himself away from his resting area and he doubled back to where he had already scoured, finding a girl standing over a pool.

He stepped from his hiding into clear view, hands up. Another thing he'd learned was that not everybody was eager to kill. "Are you armed?"

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy whirled about so fast her shoes kicked up some dirt as she looked at the new comer with wide worried eyes.

She couldn't have been older then ten years old, a scrawny little thing. All arms and legs with a mess of blond hair. Her nervous eyes darted over up and down his body, then over his shoulder out the entrance scanning the world behind him, then back to him real quick.

"Y-yeah." She answered with obvious false confidence and her hand traveled to a bow. The arrows were on her back but she was gripping the bow more like a club then a projectile launcher.

[swill]

Uh-huh. Young, he knew she was. Innocent, though? He didn't want to confuse the look on her face and the grip she had on her bow as just ignorance. Anyone who would know how to work the set would have grabbed hold of an arrow, Hawkeye figured. Of course, that was just what he thought. And of course the girl could easily just reach to the quiver and at the very least startle Hawkeye back into the woods, if she didn't know or didn't really want to use the weapon. Between having his stomach churn at the sight of the frail girl- tiny! a baby!- and the thought of leaving her in the wilderness where so many other men would like a kill, he wondered about guns.

Why hadn't he seen a single gun?

He's tall. He's fully grown. He's weak but not to such an exaggerated extent. Hawkeye hunches over when Sandy answered him and keeps his hands up- hell, he raises them even further. He thinks about stepping back behind the tree, but thinks he could do so with no trouble if the kid decided to attempt and shoot at him. Instead he steps closer, just once to test the waters.

"Alright, I can see that you are. Well I'm not. I'm not going to hurt ya; I was just wondering about the water. I was looking at the caves to see if I could sleep in one tonight" -fat chance! "and heard you so I came over." It's said calmly but not softly. It's just a statement, and attempting to disarm didn't mean to talk down to.

A baby! No, no. She couldn't be as young as she looked- really!

[justoutrunyou]

"I think there's something living in the water." She warned and took a few steps away from the pool so he could come over and investigate. She hadn't let go of the bow but she wasn't holding it as tightly now.

"At least it's not acid I guess." She added referring to the ocean that seemed to be eating away at the world.

for Ellie

[swill]

So he finally believed her about the dinosaurs.

The excruciating pain in his left arm didn't leave any room for doubt. It was morning- before that, actually. Dawn. Hawkeye had seen the sky through patches in the canopy regularly as he stopped and rolled his head back against trees and their moss and bit back screams which offered to relieve a small fraction of his agony. It had changed from black to blue to this muddled hue- and shadows began to show against the massive plants and tall grass again. And every step was exponentially more difficult to take than the last, even if Hawkeye knew he was closer than he had been hours ago to where, he hoped, Ellie was still waiting. And safe. His jacket had come off easily after the raptors had given him his scare- it had been tattered by sharp teeth and claws that seemed more interested in playing than killing. It had joined socks, which held pressure on a bleeding half a stub of a hand, and a branch which supported in splinting his forearm. Of course that meant what hadn't been used had been discarded. Drenched in sweat as he was, gasping in near every breath, he was almost sure it had been a wise move. He knew he was running a fever and when every other step meant he risked to fall to his knees, when the thicker fabric of the jacket soaked through with blood like the thinner socks on his left hand had hours before, Hawkeye thought, maybe, that there would be no shame in sitting down and resting in the open and maybe falling asleep for a few seconds before the animals came back for him, be they dinosaurs or people.

He'd sobbed enough already, surely. The whole of him was covered in mud and his own grime. And every jarring pang that ran through where his ring finger had once been makes him clench his jaw and draw himself together with a sore shudder. Hawkeye had never imagined any of this during his residency in Boston. And call him spoiled but every while when he'd turn his gaze up to stare at nothing in particular and to try and regain control over the pain and spasms of his left side, sometimes when he couldn't hold back a low moan, he'd wonder where the gifts were. The ones that came in little parachutes. It'd been a Godsend before, and Hawkeye hopes stupidly that Father Mulcahy never hears the stream of words that he bellows out.

It had been slow going back to the hollow tree. Hawkeye had lost himself the evening before, and spent the night wondering how much blood he'd lost and how it was that he was still ambling along like someone undead.

He was finally in sight of the trunk he was sure had been his and the girl's.

And he hid in the treeline around it and saw that the tracks of the lizards hadn't come close. And he realizes he'll be in audience of the girl again, after what seemed like so long. Instead of sprinting towards the opening and barging into what was secure like he yearned, he strolled over and leaned on one side, careful not to move his hand or arm or any part of him that didn't absolutely need to be moved. He rapped his right knuckles on the bark, seeing they were raw and scratched and he was wincing and hissing in a sharp curse.

"May-"

And he found out his voice was as hoarse and raw and tasted as bitter and sour as the rest of him must.

"Major! It's Hawkeye." He had to stop to pant after that. "I'm going to come in," he announced, so she doesn't deck him thinking he's some stranger's shadow worming into the hovel. "And I got in some trouble already on the way home so try to keep the verbal abuse to a minimum. I'm not sure I could take it."

[onlyimmune]

She'd fallen asleep. She'd promised herself that she wasn't going to sleep - had promised herself that she was going to stay awake an alert just in case, promised herself that she'd go looking for him again in the morning. But it must have been over twenty four hours, now, and he still hadn't come back. She hadn't seen his face in the sky, though, hadn't heard a canon, so he was still alive.

Somewhere.

She hoped.

But with every passing hour she was getting angrier. Had he just left her there? She'd thought-- It didn't matter what she thought. Everyone left, in the end.

She'd fallen asleep, was the point. She'd fallen asleep and she hadn't meant to, so she nearly leapt out of her skin when she woke up to the rap of knuckles on bark. She was already reaching for a stone - a stick - anything - when Hawkeye's voice slammed into her with an immense relief. She was already halfway out of the tree when he continued, her lips parted to immediately swear at him (Where the fuck have you been? the first question she had ready), but they all disappeared as soon as she saw him.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck." She reached out, grabbing whatever part of him she wasn't afraid would immediately break, and guided him back inside. "What the fuck happened? Are you okay?"

[swill]

"I tripped," he said, and let her get her hands on him despite wishing she wouldn't. It didn't hinder the ability to get himself back inside the hollow tree, the base, headquarters, whatever it was acting as. The little humble abode. Every step made him wince and truth be told he didn't get as good a look at Ellie as he would have liked- he didn't see the expression on her face when she laid eyes on him first or even as he slunk down into the ground as a miserable pile. "I fell down the stairs," Hawkeye tries again, forcing a mellow curl up on his lips. His eyes felt like they'd roll back in his skull if he kept them open much longer, the pressure he felt on his head tremendous. The attempt at a smile's stifled as he closes them and rests against the cool and damp bark behind him.

It was a mistake.

He grits his teeth and nearly lurches forward- he had bumped his arm against a knee. He stomps his boot against the mud instead to have something to move and some noise to hear that wasn't a stream of swears and shouts. He must look a lot like a child throwing a tantrum, but a pale and exhausted face may say otherwise. When the jolt subsides, and the pain remains but it was the constant kind of wretched pain, Hawkeye realizes he should tell Ellie what she asked. It'd serve as a warning for her. "I don't know," he starts, and it's more of a hiss than anything. He didn't know if he was alright. He'd lost blood and- other things. "I was attacked. Another- a- a tribute. Green thing. And your lizards." And he forces himself to look at her, and feels so bad for being so injured. "I'll be fine." But everything hurt. Thinking did, too, because he hurriedly adds "They didn't follow me here. I lost them a long time ago. Don't worry about that."

[onlyimmune]

"I'm not worried about that, I'm worried about you!" Came the words in a sudden rush, despite the fact that she was worried about the dinosaurs. She just knew how to prioritize.

"Don't lie to me, you're not fine. You're a doctor, right? So tell me what to do." She's hovering, with no idea what to do with her hands, but she can see the splint on his arm, the blood... Her guts wrench when she realises that there is less there than there is supposed to be.

She doesn't have much but she does have something - an old bean can, long since empty, but with a relatively clean strip of cloth inside. She makes a mental note to thank R again, and again and again. She fumbles through her clothes and pulls out the can, scraping her fingers over the jagged aluminum edge as she pulls out the cloth.

"Just tell me what to do, alright? Look, I've even got something to use for bandages or whatever."

[swill]

Aw, ain't that sweet?

The smile he shoots her is faint now, but sincere for its duration. It fades and he's left rolling his head along the tree bark with his eyes closed and a little girl fretting over him and the mess he's made of his own body. He knew he was a doctor, so her reminder doesn't press an immediate response out of him. A doctor- he could still be a doctor. A surgeon, no. He knew things but he'd never be able to do them again-- and what did it matter, right? He wasn't going to get out of this jungle alive if everything he'd heard was true. And Hawkeye's only human and he feels a breath catch in his throat. He startles awake at the sound of something rummaging.

Of Ellie rummaging.

Oh, right. Ellie.

And now she had a can and cloth. Her shirt was still on. And so was his. So where'd she get the cloth?

"Uh?" Oh, right. He was busted up. Woozy. Feeling like he'd stuck his hand in an open fire. Instinctively, he tries to make a fist and he feels his shoulders tense right up again, like he was pushing against a boulder bigger than Manhattan. "Yeah." Very eloquent, Hawkeye. Very nice. Let the girl think you've lost your senses, too. He complies and raises his left arm, bent at the elbow. The fabric from his jacket clung to where blood had seeped through, darker blots and deeper slashes appearing nearer his forearm and hand. Then, of course, was his hand and all three fingers of it, red and a mangled limp, lump, hidden under socks. Which reminded him his feet were sore.

Which reminded him, again, that Ellie was waiting for him to act a little less dead.

"I lost a lot of blood," Hawkeye starts. He figures he shouldn't have begun with that, but at least it was better than saying he wished he was dead. Which would have been a lie, but. So anyway. His right hand, the better one, goes up to signal a stop. "I'm clearly still alive," he drawled on. "If you don't believe me you can- actually, don't. Don't do that. Okay, I'll... I'm not really looking forward to taking the dressings off. But that's because I'm Captain Chicken and I'm really no fun at parties. This one time I was at a homecoming and got decked on accident, got a bloody nose-- I'm going to talk a lot because I'm a little scared. Like I said- it hurts. Don't worry, though. Back in camp everyone used to call me 'Hey You, Shut Up'. I just talk a lot." Did he even say that it hurt before? All the while he kept his voice even, just steady jabber.

Christ, he really should do as the girl said. Again, his right hand goes up. He'll get there eventually.

"I've never been this hurt. Which might explain why I look like I spent half the night blubbering like I've been jilted. But I've worked on boys who came in worse than this and they were fine. And they were half my age." But there had been whole blood and supplies. And gee, he just called himself old. With that came a wince and he rushes what's next, his voice louder in desperation. "My hand! My hand- change the- I lost the little and ring finger. Clear to th- give me the cloth if you can't stomach it. I need to- need to change that first. I really don't want that dirty and I didn't do myself any favors wandering around lost all night."