Chapter 10
They had all know that this was something that could happen, and that it could be serious. Sadly, they all knew that Thena's problem was far from being under control, and also very sadly Gilgamesh had left before he could pass on all his knowledge about how to handle it, how to manage it, so although it would still be a problem, it would be a smaller one.
Druig and Makkari had known this, but they refused to walk on eggshells around Thena just because of it. If she ever had one of her attacks again, they would go against her trying as hard as possible not to hurt her too badly, so that they would all be alive and whole at the end of it, and hopefully would be able to bring her back as swiftly and easily as possible.
Makkari wasn't too worried. Both herself and Druig were good enough warriors and they knew Thena and her ways of fighting very well. Just like Gilgamesh had done for all those centuries, they could manage, if not anticipate them at least stop her movements before anything too bad happened. And the walls of the Domo were several times reinforced, so they could maybe just lock themselves in a room and wait for the storm to pass.
Besides, Druig was good at this emotions stuff, he was good at both riling people up (although that he didn't use that often) and calming people down. He was good at talking, he was good at convincing and he was good at getting through to people. In the end, it had been him, subtly, who'd convinced Sersi to do what she did, first by tellling her "don't worry I got this" and then by saying "don't worry, you got this". If you were trapped with someone with an unstable psyche, he was probably one of the best people to be trapped with.
Except... except if he couldn't do any of those things because he was bleeding out on the floor. Druig had been chatting with Thena about some memories of times past, before they all "broke up", and something must have triggered her. Sometimes it was bigger things, like deviant attacks, but some other times it was perfectly innocent stuff, like the word "dusk" that could make her get lost and start attacking people.
Druig had been more focused on his cream cheese bagel and staring longingly at Makkari and hadn't seen Thena's eyes, hadn't seen them change colour. Nor had he seen the sword that she had materialised out of the blue, in a second. So after looking at the bagel for a bit he was going to ask her what had she put in it, stood in front of her, muttered a small, almost mute "shit" and then was run through by Thena's sword. It got him right on the stomach, in the middle of a bunch of a vital organs, in one of the places that bled the worst.
Druig looked down at the wound, and fell down to his knees in seconds, too numb to feel anything, too numb to scream, just looking at Thena with betrayal and sorrow in his oh so blue eyes.
"Don't you remember me, Thena?" he said with a thread of a voice, almost impossible to hear.
And something about those eyes, something about the way they were looking at her brought Thena back.
As Makkari came to him, frantically looked at the wound and wondered what she could or should do, (would he bleed out faster if she took out the sword? She couldn't just leave it in, right, it was damaging his insides, making him bleed, he couldn't heal with that inside him but taking it out could would be a death sentence). Her hands moved around the sword, eyes tearing up.
And Thena... she just approached him, suddenly remembering him, perfectly. Remembering Druig's little ways of helping her come down after she got too riled up after a fight. Remembering had he stood up for her when Ajak wanted to delete everything that she was and had been. Remembering how he had helped, each and every time, even if he didn't completely believe in what they were doing.
For them. He was a soldier, just like the others, but he felt things more deeply, and that was a quality she'd always admired. His love for life, in this one and every world, his attempts to always save people, no matter the conflict. She was a warrior, but she always thought that wars were a way of soldiers, trained people, to fight the battles and keep civilians safe. Which was what Druig had been doing for thousands of years, keeping people safe.
Sometimes his ways were fucked up, sure, but probably not as fucked as their mission to "grow people to offer them in sacrifice", a mission that they'd completed in many, many planets. Druig always hated it when he found out, he hated bloodshed.
And now that he'd been proven right (they both had, hadn't they? she'd been right and they'd thought her mad. He'd been right and he'd been told that he sucked), he was... he was on the verge of dying, because of her. She knelt down in front of him, touched his face for a moment and looked at his eyes. And she absolutely hated that she'd hurt him, that he was in pain, that it was this bad. He could be dying and she felt herself be filled with worry, with horror, with dread. Not him, please, not by her.
"I am so sorry, Druig. You've stood by me so many times, I never wanted to hurt you."
Druig understood. And with the last energy he had, he looked at her with pain-filled eyes and whispered:
"Whatever happens, I don't blame you."
Thena almost laughed. Typical Druig, on the verge of death and the last thing he did was reassure her. Sometimes she felt that they didn't deserve him.
She wiped the tears from her eyes, and became the leader she'd always been. What do you do when one of your most trusted generals falls down in battle? You save him, just like he's saved so many others. You can't get lost in your concern, you can't let regret overwhelm, can't think of the pain in his eyes or all the blood pouring down. If she thought about she would break again, and Druig needed her.
"Makkari, find if we have any extra blood bags, or if we don't, if there's any gadgets so we can give him any of ours. I need surgical instruments, stitches, probably oxygen to help him as well. And we are going to have to take that sword out of him and it's going to be really painful. If there's anything to help with the pain, please bring it too."
Thena took Druig in her arms, sword and all, and gently, carefully, placed him in the living room table she'd cleared of everything, he was barely conscious, just some little moans coming out of him. You'd think that with all that he ate, he'd be heavier, but no. Druig was a toned, fairly imposing man, but he was smaller than Gilgamesh or Ikaris, (even Kingo). Sometimes he felt like a little brother of sorts, always asking too many questions, always rebelling and going against their parents.
At first Thena thought that it was endearing. Now she realised it was necessary, and not just a "quirky personality trait". Druig had always seen things more clearly than any of them, and they were about to lose his precious insight because she hadn't been able to control herself. And not just that, but his company - his little smiles of joy when he saw either food or Makkari, his little clever jokes. Him. A friend and partner.
Thena couldn't believe she'd wounded him this badly. Couldn't believe she'd hurt so much someone she cared for this much. Her hands were drenched in his blood and it was like a nightmare.
Makkari was back with all they needed sooner rather than later. She had the surgical instruments, she had the blood (there hadn't been any, but she'd taken some from herself in seconds) and she got everything else, everything that they needed.
The first and most critical step was taking out the sword. Thena asked Makkari to hold him down, as this had to be done in a precise way and Makkari might do it too fast, which would mean he'd bleed out instantly. So she was to be careful, and awfully slow. The scream he let out as she started broke her heart in a million pieces, and suddenly she was happy Makkari couldn't hear him.
But she managed, didn't she, took out the sword, Druig passed out and her and Makkari were able to close the wound in record time, while hooking up the blood to replace everything he'd lost.
It all seemed to be going decently. But it could still... if he didn't wake up...
Now Druig was laying on his bed, with his whole midsection sewn up and bandaged, and Makkari was laying next to him holding one of his hands, caresssing his hair with the other.
And Thena was sitting in front of them, in a chair, watching them and singing a little song she knew about a soldier fallen in battle and the pain of its general, and the whole city. A noble hero. Someone that it was an absolute honour to fight with.
And she was also remembering him, as he lay unconscious, fighting for his life: everything he'd done, everything he'd said, every time they'd fought side by side.
And most of all, all the good there was in his heart.