“I wanted to get to you faster.”
When Taron yanked the snares open, hot white pain flooded Colin’s whole body and made him scream. He twisted in the grass, kicking about with his untouched foot, but his hands already found Taron’s clothes and held on, just in case he wanted to leave. “Don’t go.”
Taron shook his head and made the short sign for ‘never’. He slid his arm under Colin’s knees, the other behind his back, and when he picked him up, Colin instinctively embraced Taron’s neck.
His illogical brain told him that with the snares gone, the pain should be subsiding, but instead it only became worse, ripping the fibres in his muscles one at a time with every step Taron took. He didn’t want to look down, so he focused on Taron instead, breathing his scent and watching for any indication of what he was thinking. “I have all the wild strawberries in there. We can’t just leave them.”
Taron opened his lips as if to say something, but instead, when they were passing the basket, he leaned lower for Colin to grab the handle. Colin pulled the basket to his chest, but as he was leaning down, his gaze caught the swollen flesh torn by the teeth of the snare, with drying rivulets of blood crisscrossing the purplish skin. He took a deep breath, halting the sudden nausea and clutching the basket to his chest.
“Fuck. Oh fuck. It’s broken. I’m sure it is! How far is the nearest emergency room?”
Taron glanced to the leg, then to Colin’s face. He said something, but with the blood pounding in Colin’s head, he couldn’t hear a word, so Taron repeated.
“No hospital.”
For a moment, Taron ran in silence, securely holding Colin’s body despite gravity weighing them down. But Colin’s brain eventually caught up, and he shook his head, trying to forget about the injury. “What? Of course we’re going! I need an X-ray. Maybe surgery...”
“We can’t go. We will set it here.” Even Taron’s strong grip wouldn’t give Colin comfort now. He’d entered the Twilight zone, and he would die here. Bleed out, get an infection, walk with a painful limp forever, get sepsis, or suffer endless horrific consequences.
“What do you mean we can’t go? There’s nothing stopping you from getting me real help. If someone knows who I am, just tell them you found me in the woods,” Colin uttered, clutching at Taron’s neck while his own pulsed under the shock collar.
“You know why we can’t go.”
This couldn’t be happening to him. His first ever broken bone. Endless information about how to treat it vibrated inside his skull, yet all he could think of was the horrifying state of his leg.
“No, I don’t. I need help. I really need a doctor. This isn’t a joke. Taron, please,” Colin whispered, looking straight into his eyes despite the aching pain telling him to just curl up and cry. Even his grip on the basket was becoming too weak.
“It will be fine. I’m not going to prison.” The unyielding look in Taron’s eyes broke Colin’s heart in two. This was it. Taron didn’t trust him, and wouldn’t be changing his mind about it, even if it meant Colin suffering the consequences.
“Please, Taron. I beg you…” He couldn’t help another sob, but Taron wouldn’t budge.
Every step Taron took created an impact that shook Colin’s leg, and the pain became too much. Colin faded out. The last thing he saw was his basket falling to the ground.
Chapter Sixteen
Taron got Colin drunk on the moonshine, but even the copious amount of alcohol couldn’t numb him to the pain of having the fractured limb handled. Colin tried to assist him and by trying to reposition the broken bone himself at first, but ended up hesitantly probing at the swollen flesh, unable to make himself push. Each twist of Colin’s face, each sob was a scar on Taron’s heart, but he needed to stay firm. Regardless of what Colin believed, this could be dealt with at home, without endangering everything Taron had worked for. People had done so for millennia, without antibiotics to make sure the wound didn’t get infected.
Colin hadn’t broken his leg on purpose, but if he ended up in hospital, he’d be gone from Taron’s life forever, even if he decided not to press charges, which was highly unlikely. Preparing for a disastrous future meant Taron had also studied first aid and medical basics. He’d been ready to one day have to deal with a fracture himself. He just hadn’t expected needing to help someone else.
His hands were covered in blood, and he had to kick all the cats out of the house when they wouldn’t stay away from the makeshift operating table, but there was barely any dislocation, so he figured the injury would heal with time. Colin hated him right now, but despite what his drunken slurring suggested, he would eventually come around.