[b]Levi - Under Construction Apartments - Aubrey[/b]

“I really shouldn't, Aubrey,” said Levi shakily. “If it's still in there, it's best not to take it out. It might be the only thing keeping you alive.”

The colour had drained from his face at the sight of her arm, as if it was he who had been shot. She was losing blood rapidly and he felt that digging around for the bullet might make the situation even more dire. Recalling the little experience he had treating wounded children in Palestine, Levi knew that finding the exit wound would be a blessing. If there wasn't one, Aubrey would most likely succumb to death or have some degree of paralysis for the rest of her life. In this world, the two outcomes were equivalent.

After rummaging through the bedside desk and finding the emergency medical supplies that Aubrey had stashed away, Levi pulled the entire drawer out from the body of the desk and set it onto the bed next to her. With no time to look for a pair of scissors, he elevated her arm above her head, retrieved an arrow from his quiver and used the tip to cut through the shirt's arm.

After the fabric had been split open, Levi carefully pried it apart from her skin; her congealed blood was like glue, causing the shirt to create a horrible ripping sound as it was peeled off.

Staring at the ragged flesh opened the floodgates and a deluge of traumatic memories threatened to overwhelm him. He shuddered at the ghosts of wounds that flashed across his eyes, his concentration becoming increasingly compromised as he searched for the exit wound.

Fortunately, he did not have to look far, as it was almost directly on the other side of the entry wound. There was still hope for her. Levi, ignoring the pleading of his olfactory system, leaned in and was assaulted with the intense scent of rusted metal. Forcing down an instinct to retch, he peered in at the wound and searched for bits of fabric that might have been pushed inside.

After he had determined, to the best of his ability, that there were no bits of cloth in the wound that would lead to an infection, Levi began to clean the wound thoroughly. His fingers slipped in the slickness of her blood.

As he poured solution on the wound, he wished she would have screamed. Her placidity was unnerving and unintended. Even though a pain-induced cacophony would possibly attract walkers, it would at least confirm her alertness. She made nary a sound and all he could do was hope that she was not, as her silence seemed to indicate, about to fall unconscious.

He unfurled the roll of bandage and began to wrap it tightly around both wounds, covering it in layers and layers despite his best efforts to be as economical with it as he could. The bandages would need to be changed, after all, but right now, he needed to stop the bleeding no matter what the cost.

Once he had knotted the bandage tightly, Levi stood next to her and applied pressure to the gauze with his palms. With the combined strategy of raising her limb over her head and squeezing the wrap, it seemed that the bleeding had stymied significantly.

He felt as if he should be talking to her in order to retain her consciousness by giving her something to focus on, but at the moment, he was at a loss for words.

There were men, women and children in Palestine who he had helped to save, but he would never forget the faces of those whom they had failed. The prospect of Aubrey's impending addition to the group which haunted his dreams, and the knowledge of what he would have to do if she breathed her last, entrenched him in a morose silence.