Pick Up the Pieces

[MK Kilmarnock]

Justin didn't even like Family Guy.

((Justin Greene continued from It's Just a Day))

Nonetheless, his current situation called to mind a particular episode, one where Stewie the evil baby finally succeeds in killing his mother... why he wanted to do that in the first place, Justin didn't understand. It seemed senseless and counterproductive, kind of like that whole show in general. He bitterly reflected on his lack of love for a cartoon while redressing the bandages that he'd set on his ruined elbow. This was the third set of bandages now. The first set had been sloppily applied as an emergency off in the woods somewhere until he was able to find some real shelter. The second set was more carefully administered and wrapped around his elbow with his wrist tucked under his shirt to try and keep his arm up. The bandages had fully bled through. Justin fought the urge to just layer more bandages over them and call it done; that probably had some risk of infection. It would be better to get it cleanly dressed, a process which started by cutting the old bandages off with the somewhat flimsy scissors that came with the first aid kit, then getting the alcohol pads open... a feat that proved next to impossible with just one hand unless he relied on the scissors again.

It was all the difficulty in dressing and treating his own wound that made Justin wish, without deeply thinking, that somebody could help him. If Aliya were there with him, giving that patient and understanding look that she gave back at the art gallery while telling him to hold still, it'd all pass much quicker and be much easier. That was where the mental skips in logic came in, thinking about whose fault it was that Aliya was no longer there to help. Before that thought could fully form, all Justin could think about was Stewie falling and holding his knee, crying for his mommy before realizing 'oh, right, I killed her.'

Funny moment. The audience at home laughs. He can't get treatment from somebody who cared about him because he killed her.

Justin really, really hated Family Guy. Awful show. Too heavy reliance on cutaway gags, no respect for canon.

The alcohol swabs stung. Justin bit down on the collar of his shirt in an attempt to handle the constant throbbing pain, topping out the wound on his ass for worst injury he'd ever received in his life. His face felt numb in comparison. Maybe it was just numb in general. He didn't touch it and hadn't had a bite to eat since yesterday, only taking drinks of water and occasionally spitting out pink. He found no mirrors to look into, and he certainly wasn't about to go searching for any. As long as his eye wasn't swollen all the way shut, his face would serve him just fine. His nose was probably broken. Big deal, he'd just breathe through his mouth. And you only needed one side of your mouth to chew on, right? So who cared if there was a molar or canine missing?

No, the arm was still the big concern. There were some of these butterfly bandages in the kit that looked promising, but some reluctant study of the hole in his elbow told him that some bandages weren't stitching that booboo shut. Most of the flesh of his arm was mottled with blood and a large scab had formed, with some blood oozing out from underneath like lava. Trying to bend his arm, something he had to do with the aid of his other hand as the arm simply wouldn't move on its own, broke a seal of sorts and some clotting blood rolled down the crease of his elbow. A black rock surrounded by dark red. Justin wiped it away with a half-dirtied wipe and discarded it on the ground before picking up the roll of gauze bandages. He leaned in and placed one end between his teeth to hold it, wrapping the roll around his arm. When he was satisfied, he used his thigh to pin the roll in place and grabbed some tape. His teeth came in handy again, even if his lips stung; there must have been a cut there, also from Shauna's rifle butt. He ignored the pain the best he could and applied the tape. Cleaner than his first or second jobs... not perfect, but it would get the job done.

Once that was finished, Justin sifted through the first aid kit for a sling. Each item in the first aid kid that wasn't blatantly obvious like the scissors or the lighter came in near-identical little boxes with small print on them. Justin struggled to read each title, spending countless seconds carefully reading and rereading the words aloud, sounding them out and approximating them to something. A few things, he still had no idea, but he'd at least located a bottle of ibuprofen (which he remembered as Advil) and Aspirin... even if he swore up and down he read 'ass pain' at least twice. His sore bottom stung him in retaliation at the memory. When his search for the sling came up empty, he scowled and grabbed a spare shirt from his bag. It would have to do... better than nothing, and the cloth could get the job done. He spent a moment trying to visualize what to do: tie the shirt into a loop of sorts, hang it over his head and stick his hand through the loop. Viola, instant sling.

Unfortunately, there would be no such luck there, as a knot typically required two hands to die, and the fingers of his left hand weren't cooperating. Fear rekindled in his mind - was he going to lose his arm? Even if he won and got to go back home, he might end all of this as an amputee. Uncertainty turned to certainty to try and preserve his sanity: he WAS going to win... and he WAS going to lose his arm. He couldn't have one without the other in his mind, for whatever reason. That future scared him, but it was a future preferable to death. And he still needed a fucking sling.

Eventually, Justin happened upon a bit of a jerry-rigged solution of wearing the second shirt over his head but not sticking his arms in the sleeves. Turning it at a slant, he stuffed his arm into one of the sleeve holes. It took him a while to get it right but in the end, it was something of a trailer-park sling, and it was the best he was going to get short of asking somebody to help... and call him crazy, but he probably wasn't going to get help anymore. He was, like Stewie, on his own.

Damn it... he really needed a better metaphor. From a show that didn't suck.

((Justin Greene, continued to make you happy))