Day 04 - Tumblr Posts

aldreantreuperi

11 months ago

Blood

It's not the first time that this has been an issue.

As long as Spike survives... it certainly won't be the last time either.

Doc had given Faye, still clad in a provocative crimson dress that revealed more of her skin than it covered, a curious side-eye when she trailed into the small office after Jet. With very little heads-up as to their abrupt arrival, it was no surprise that Doc was wearing pajamas underneath his hastily donned lab coat. He gestured impatiently at the table for Jet to unload the bundle of bloody rags that he had carried bridal-style from the Hammerhead currently parked on the roof of the unassuming medical building.

"Kid's a real piece of work today, hey?" Doc muttered. "Well, first things first. What's your type, girlie?"

Faye, wiping at the dust on her brow and making her way to run shaky hands underneath the faucet of the sink to get rid of the blood that ran from her fingertips all the way to her elbows, scowled at the old man.

"Not short old men that's for sure!" She snapped.

Despite the dire situation, Jet found himself chuckling at Faye's misunderstanding. Doc huffed and gave a nod of his head towards a cupboard that Jet began to root through for the proper tools to draw blood from Faye. He already knew he was no match for Spike, but maybe it would turn out Faye could give a little. It would certainly make it somewhat worth it just having her bitchy ass on board if she could donate to Spike given how often he was in need of a transfusion.

Watching Jet approach her with a needle, Faye's eyes widened in understanding. "Ohh. Yeah. I dunno." She finished wiping her arms hastily, the skin still pinker than usual from the vigorous scrubbing and from the residual streaks of Spike's blood that hadn't washed off in her haste. Accepting the swab of iodine from Jet's other hand, she wordlessly began to smear it all over the inside of her right elbow.

"We'll know soon enough." Doc told her, apparently choosing to ignore the snub she'd given him earlier. "Once you're done there... you should grab some gloves and a pair of tweezers from the drawer under that far cupboard. There's a lot of glass we're gonna have to pick out of him once I get these major wounds closed. There should be some skin-grow in a bottle in the fridge by the window. Get me that and a bag of O as well. Even if she's the right type, he's gonna need more than we can pull from her. Not too worried about the entry point on this bullet wound but the exit is gonna be gnarly. You said he fell down a flight or two of stairs? That won't have helped matters. This gash here... clean cut but who knows how clean the actual blade was. Kid's gonna need some heavy duty antibiotics to fend off any infections. I don't have that type of shit on hand here. Anyway, c'mere with that sewing kit. Set it there. We'll roll him first to check the damage on the back side before we worry about these other issues - don't want him bleeding out while we're doing busywork on his front half."

Jet worked diligently to obey Doc's instructions while Faye flitted about in the background somewhat uselessly. Her task of retrieving shards of glass from Spike's skin was one of the last things down the list of a slew of more critical injuries that had to be addressed first. Fortunately, Jet had some background in triage. It hadn't been a mandatory part of his ISSP training but he'd briefly considered enlisting in the Ganymede Military before finally settling on a cop career instead. Before that, he'd taken some training courses with the military cadets that had included an extensive course on treating violent injuries. Being able to patch up a bloody hole was apparently more crucial than learning how to fire the gun that could make such a gaping maw in a flesh-and-bone body.

The issue with Spike was of course the blood type. It had been one of the very few pieces of information he'd willingly offered up to Jet after they'd first partnered up. Said he was something of a danger magnet and had a history of getting roughed up. Needed Jet to know that he could give blood all day long but that he could only receive from other O types. Which was naturally an issue given that Jet himself was an A type. So, being able to request the right life-saving liquid was something that Jet needed to know - or to tell the medics whenever he had to bring Spike to an actual hospital which had thankfully been a rare occurrence.

More frequently, if they were in the area, they'd simply drop in on Doc. It cost a pretty penny but it was easier than offering an alias to the hospital staff and then breaking out when no nurses could try and catch them in the act. It wasn't a great system but it worked.

"Ah, no good." Doc announced as he inspected Faye's blood. "B, for the record."

"So what, my blood isn't gonna work for him?" Faye demanded pensively.

Doc shook his head. "Figured as much to be honest. You don't seem the O type to me."

Her eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at the older man. "That feels like an insult."

Doc smirked at her and shrugged. "You do the research and you tell me. Anyway, we need more. The bags I've got on hand here aren't gonna be enough. There's a donation center down on the first floor of the building... if you think you can handle a little B&E then perhaps you can be a help."

Faye frowned. "What am I even looking for?"

Jet, busy helping to apply the skin-grow salve around the neat needlework Doc was using to close up the exit hole on Spike's back, sighed. "A freaking label that says O type blood, Faye."

"Look at the one in the trash over here." Doc said. "Take my ID card, you can swipe it to gain access to the center and the refrigerator room. I'll just say it got stolen if anyone asks. You'll owe me for that too, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, Doc. Add it to the tab, wouldya?" Jet already knew this visit was gonna cost them an arm and a leg. Poor choice of words, he reflected, considering his own substituted arm. Spike wasn't really at risk of any limb loss but it would be kind of touch and go for a minute just due to the severity of the wounds he'd received and the ways he'd made them worse by doing whatever the hell he'd been doing inside the smoldering wreckage of the cathedral. Jet had arrived after all the action so he missed seeing any of the excitement - thank fuck, syndicate business was no mess he wanted any part of. Undoubtedly though, Spike had made things worse on himself the entire time he was there.

The kid was always pushing his buttons. Choosing laziness over action more often than not. Picking fights with Faye that made Jet's ears ring with the volume they'd both reach with their shouting. Bringing back flea-covered dogs instead of bountyheads. Destroying bridges and buildings and vehicles during chases that negated any sort of money they'd hope to bring it anytime they actually did bag a bounty. It was a hassle and a headache and he was getting tired of it.

Tired of the worry. Tired of Spike's overconfidence paired with a casual indifference about his own life. If this is what it would have been like having a teenager then frankly Jet counted himself lucky to have not sired any offspring. This one adult was enough of a troublemaker to contend with!

But... Spike was also willing to throw himself fully into their missions when it suited him. He'd get down and dirty and be the one throwing punches or racing after enemies trying to flee in the zipcraft that could outmaneuver Jet's own with ease. Honestly, between the two of them, Jet wasn't entirely sure which of them was the brawn, the muscle, the tough guy. Jet himself was one hundred percent the brain but he was pretty tough too. He'd been knocking heads and choking folks out on the force for years while Spike was probably stealing beignets as a brash little asshole living on the streets. Not that he'd ever told Jet about his past but, well, some things just made sense.

Well. So what was another medical bill anyway? Doc was good about giving them time to pay him back - steady business was steady business, after all, even if the cash from taking those jobs trickled in over weeks instead of getting pulled from some insurance account and probably taxed and whatnot. Jet wasn't exactly sure how medical professionals got paid out, truth be told. A periodic deposit from an anonymous benefactor was just what the doctor ordered and it made Jet's life much easier.

Or as easy as it could be when one had a human wrecking ball for a partner. And a newly acquired foxy little mischief maker like Faye Valentine for that matter.

Between the two of them, he'd be entirely gray in the hair if he wasn't bald to begin with!

Tags :

angstober 2024 day 04 blood cowboy bebop cowboy bebop fanfiction jet black spike spiegel faye valentine

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eyecollective

1 year ago

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Wishes of Trust - Eye_Collective - Batman - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

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07 Oct 2023