Mori eventually wrapped the stomach wounds with a wince, each one protected by a line of cotton poffs to keep from being disturbed by the bandages.
He wasn't unfeeling. He flinched and grimaced and bit back tears, but a doctor has to know how to work past it all. You don't work with bodies if you're squeamish or afraid of injury or blood. You don't work with scalpels, if you're afraid of getting cut. You don't operate on yourself, if you're afraid of pain.
Mori finally leaned back, blood-crusted arm over his eyes, swallowing down breaths of air like they might be their last as the Maven worked. "You didn't have to do this, Jane..." The voice was weak, soft, but clear in the focused silence. It wasn't biting, though, or accusatory or prideful. If anything, it was ashamed. Ashamed of being a burden, ashamed of needing help, maybe even ashamed of accepting help at all.
no subject
He wasn't unfeeling. He flinched and grimaced and bit back tears, but a doctor has to know how to work past it all. You don't work with bodies if you're squeamish or afraid of injury or blood. You don't work with scalpels, if you're afraid of getting cut. You don't operate on yourself, if you're afraid of pain.
Mori finally leaned back, blood-crusted arm over his eyes, swallowing down breaths of air like they might be their last as the Maven worked. "You didn't have to do this, Jane..." The voice was weak, soft, but clear in the focused silence. It wasn't biting, though, or accusatory or prideful. If anything, it was ashamed. Ashamed of being a burden, ashamed of needing help, maybe even ashamed of accepting help at all.