swill: poppyapples.dw (Default)
Benjamin F. "Hawkeye" Pierce ([personal profile] swill) wrote in [community profile] thearena 2014-04-18 03:44 am (UTC)

What a lovely thing to dote on: orders.

Hawkeye was mildly miffed at Rat's decision to sit instead of lie down- his preferences, medical and personal, both somehow ignored and somehow the gesture still allowed for prompt mending. He'd applaud it if it didn't mean he would have to hunch over to reach the kid's head well, if his back wasn't feeling so brittle and weak that Rat calling him an 'old man' seemed natural to his ears. Hawkeye snorted, winced at the way the sudden intake of air pained his stomach, and let one end of the cloth strip fall to Rat's open hand. Hawkeye's good hand then went to hold Rat's, then to push it and pin it to the side of Rat's head near the worst tear. Pressure, he indicated. Hawkeye began to bandage. He wished he had kept the first aid kit, and then wondered if it was selfish. He also wished he hadn't taken most of the painkillers, because there was no question if that was or wasn't selfish. The bandaging was sloppy at best. Hawkeye sported a permanent grimace.

"Old man?" Like the words barely caught up to him. "I'm in my prime. Don't mind my gray hairs. I'm like a silver back gorilla. I'm strong-" the wimpy pressure on Rat's head could confirm that much- "resourceful, resilient, respectable, admirable, attentive, affectionate, ah-- running out of breath, but why do I need to explain myself to you anyway? I'm too busy trying to figure out how to tie this with just-- see, if I just tuck in this loose end, the dressing's bound to come off the minute we let go and, uh."

He had to tend to Rat's hand, and after he tended Rat's hand he might want to fuss over Rat's head again. So Hawkeye shifted his weight. He leaned against the steady table, propping his broken arm up with little thought and with a shrill whine. Oh, fun. Oh, what a doozy. Oh, Lord, what a bad idea. But oh, then Hawkeye passes his end of the strip to his one hand, and takes the other from Rat and ta- "-da!"

He didn't have the breath for this. "A knot."

Beautiful little bow.

"Still with me? Your hand's next. Tell it to... tell it to quit bleeding until I make myself sit down. Or until you stand up. But don't do it fast. But I'll sit down slow. I'm old."

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