Being bitten was fucking terrifying, even with the knowledge that I'd probably survive. It'd just become so ingrained in my mind over the months that being bitten meant death. I started to panic in the back of my head; would I be able to survive a second dose of the virus so soon after Sophia testing it in me? Would the other virus I had fuck with my immune system? What if... So many of those rampaged around inside my head that I nearly had a panic attack just as I'd managed to calm down.
Swallowing, I looked down at my arm. There was a deep, dirty bite mark in it, bleeding heavily and throbbing like a bitch. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. It needed stitches. I could do that. I just needed to get somewhere safe and get some stuff to do it with.
"I need to get to a hospital," I said shakily, pushing past Sophia, "leave your stuff, or your cure's gonna bleed to death in a corner shop." Sophia didn't look too sure about that, but I was already moving, ripping my shirt off to try and stop the bleeding a little. I doubted her kit had the needles or thread in it; if someone got hurt that bad, they wereas good as dead anyway. There wasn't much need for stitching up a rotten corpse.
Switching the knife from my right to my left hand, I set off, not waiting for Sophia. I swear I saw her rolling her eyes in the corner of my vision as she jogged to catch up with me. I was too wound up and on edge at that moment to care too much, though, and she must have noticed my shirt slipping or something, because she stopped me quickly.
"Hang on," she said, ripping the sleeve of my shirt off so she could tie it around my arm just above the bite, "should slow the bleeding," she told me, pressing the rest of my shirt back into the wound. Usually I might have asked what was wrong with the way I'd tied it before, but I was too busy focusing my energy on getting myself to some place I could patch myself up to argue with her.
When we reached the hospital, it felt like an age had passed. I could feel my heart slamming against my ribs, making it harder and harder to breathe. I let Sophia choose a room for me to sit in, settling on the edge of a bed to wait while she went off to get the stuff I needed. She comes back in holding one of those kidney dishes with the needles and thread inside and sets them down on the bedside cabinet, making like she was about to do it for me.
I stopped her, insisting I could do it myself. I've never much trusted other people to stitch me up before, and it's not like I'm a total novice at this. It's not like I've come out of every fight unscathed, and I've never been to a hospital to see a nurse or doctor about anything like this before. I'd always just patched myself up and dealth with it on my own. I suppose the scars I have might be less obvious if someone else had done it, but what can I say? I'm a stubborn fuck.
"Oh for gods sake Cancer, don't be stupid," she said irritably, but she didn't dare try to take it back in case she made it worse. "You've lost too much blood already, just let me do it."
"I'm fine," I repeated, ignoring the pain in my arm and the way the room throbbed along with my head. I tried not to let it show that I was feeling shakey, but she must have seen anyway. I was about half way around the first half of the top bite mark before I slipped.
"Cancer stop being such a stubborn moron." With that, she shoved me down on the bed, taking the needle from me. "You don't need to play hero now, it's my turn," she told me with a smirk playing on her lips as she tried to burn my arm off with an alcohol wipe. I tried not to yell, I really did. After that, I barely noticed the feel of the needle sliding in and out of my flesh. She finished a lot quicker than I would've done, I hate to admit, and I would hardly be admitting it to her. She finished off by taping some gauze over it to try and keep it clean before wandering off for something. I think she mentioned food and water. I wasn't really listening, I was just lying there feeling all indignant and emasculated.
Seeing the look on my face when she came back, Sophia rolled her eyes at me again, pulling up a chair to sit by the bed, that smirk back on her face. "It was either let you play hero again or have you pass out on me and have to set you up with an IV ok?"
I scowled at her. "I was doing fine."
"Uh huh," she didn't sound convinced at all. "If it boosts your ego back up you're a pretty amazing fighter." After that? I didn't feel like I was good at fighting. A good fighter wouldn't have been bitten.
I glared down at my arm, "yeah. Maybe not when i'm ill, though." A concerned look flickered across her face, this time.
"How are you feeling, by the way?" she asked, quickly pressing the back of her hand to my forehead.
"Not brilliant," I said honestly, "the room's kinda spinning."
"That might be the blood loss," she pointed out. "I'm going to have a quick look around, see if they have anything stronger than what I have." Her hand found its way into mine again for a moment before she disappeared again, leaving me there on the bed. If anything came now, I was fucked, immune or not. Keeping my eyes open was enough of a battle, and it was one I lost. I was out like a light long before Sophia came back.