"Davies." A muffled sound.

"Davies!"

Carter woke with a start.

Where-

Where was he?

————————————————————

Shit.

He was shot. Thomas was shot! Alton was frantic, his hands were shaking as he looked around for-Well, anything! Anything that could help Thomas. Alton found a stock of blankets and sheets. He grasped a sheet, and ripped a long strip off. He then knelt down next to Thomas.

"Lift your jacket and shirt. I need to see how bad-"

Oh it was bad.

Alton could see one of Thomas' ribs. The area had flesh blown away, and blood was seeping through his uniform. A whole chunk of Thomas' body was blown away. Alton, mustering up every ounce of bravery and care, spread the skin and tissue apart to look for the bullet. Thomas gave out a pained wince when he did this.

"Sorry." Alton apologized. He furrowed his brow and continued. There!

Oh god.

Well; he found it. The bullet in question was imbedded in a mix of bone and flesh. Just a few inches to the right and it would have hit his heart. Alton thought about how to go through this.
A medic would take too long to get to their location, and moving Thomas wasn't really an option. Alton would have to remove the bullet himself.

"You don't happen to have a pair of tweezers do you?" Alton asked. Thomas shook his head. A idea struck him.

He grabbed two pencils from his uniform pocket and Thomas'. Maybe he could use those? He had to give it a shot.

Slowly and carefully, Alton went into the wound, checking on Thomas every few seconds.

"You alright?" He asked softly. Thomas nodded again.

Alton continued until the points of both writing utensils rested on the bullet.

"I'm going to have to dig in a bit to grab the bastard out. Are you ready?"

Thomas nodded, quickly grabbing onto Alton's shoulder. Alton maneuvered the pencil tips around until they were around the bullet.

"Okay. I'm going to pull the bullet out. In one, two-"

Three.

"Agh!" Thomas roared. Alton dropped both the pencils and bullet onto the ground. He laid a hand in Thomas' back.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah. Course I am. Just got a bullet ripped out from me. Happens every Tuesday." Thomas smiled through the pain. Alton chuckled. He grabbed the sheet again and ripped off a short piece, and placed it in the hole where the missing flesh was.

Alton grabbed the long strip of the bedsheet, and tied it around Thomas. When he pulled it tight, Thomas cried out.

"Agh! That fuckin hurt!" He swore.

"Sorry man. Don't want you bleeding out on me." Alton replied.

Thomas chuckled, but that hurt too.

"So what's the plan? Bunker down here? Or get back into it?" Thomas inquired.

"I'll go back out. We need more men to man the-" He was cut off.

"Alton." He turned to Thomas.

"Hmm?"

"Stay. I-I would like a friendly face around."

"I'll always stay with you."

Always.