Methos, having dried Catriona as best he could for the present, had sent Joe to fetch his pack from the guest room. Seeing his puzzlement at this request he explained. "Catriona's system is going into shock. She's dehydrated as well as in need of blood. We need to get her electrolyte level up and hope like hell that Mac gets back pronto with the blood I sent him for."
"And just how do you aim to get this whatdyamaycallit level up?" Joe asked. The explanation was as clear as mud to him.
"Electrolyte?"
Joe nodded.
"Well as she's out cold I plan to start with intravenous injections and a drip. In my pack you'll find a green box, bring that through I don't need anything else."
Joe did as he was asked. The box proved to contain various cannulas, catheters, syringes and vials of mostly colourless liquid, a few sachets and boxes with labels declaring the contents to be some kind of medication.
"Just how long ago did you say you last practised medicine?"Joe queried, his eyebrows raised slightly at the collected paraphanalia before him.
"Actually I don't recall ever mentioning it - you only asked me when I first trained. I have been actively engaged in medicine as a career much more recently than that however. I last practised just over twelve years ago, just before I became a watcher in fact."
As he spoke he worked at wiping an area on Catriona's arm with antiseptic. He carefully inserted and needle into a vein in her right hand which he could then attach to a drip at a later point. He then examined her pupils and re checked her pulse. Selecting a vial from one of the boxes he drew up the contents into a syringe and, attaching it to the needle, injected his patient with the contents.
"That should help to keep any infection from the wound at bay and buy us a little more time."He said.
He selected another package from the box which proved to be a flat see through bag resembling those used for transfusing blood. This, however, was not blood but rather a clear substance. Methos proceeded to attach one of the tubes from the vacuum packed bags to this pack, the other end of the sterile tubing went into the needle cup protruding from Catriona's hand. Covering the connection with white tape, Methos checked the connection for air bubbles. When he was satisfied that all was well he continued rummaging for another vital piece of equipment.
Joe marvelled at the calm way he approached the task. He was unable to relax or think much in his present state - his concern for Catriona overriding everything else, yet Methos seemed perfectly at ease and in control. The benefit of training Joe supposed and he wished he felt more capable of carrying some of the burden since the oldest immortal was showing severe signs of strain. His throat wound , whilst it was no longer bleeding, was still raw and fiery red. The pain it cost him to speak became more evident with every word - the effort to keep from wincing in sympathy was beginning to make Joe uncomfortable.
As if sensing this Methos, having checked the transfusion was continuing safely, stood and patted Joe on the shoulder.
"Well old friend, so far so good. If MacLeod gets back within the next twenty minutes we should be safely out of the woods."
Joe looked sorrowfully at the young face before him. Even knowing Methos' age he was never quite able to think of him as anything other than a young man.
"Catriona may be out of the woods, thanks to you, but what about this?" He indicated the florid incision just below Methos' Adams apple. "I've heard that throat wounds like this never heal even on an immortal. Kalas was wounded there by MacLeod and he never healed, it destroyed his voice." His distress was obvious.
Methos looked him evenly in the eye. "That may well be so Joe, but at least I do still have my head."
"Methos, you can't deny the pain you are in. A blind man could see it. Mac was way out of line and now you're paying the price."
"Was he Joe? Mac reacted as he always does. What do you want me to say? He's an interfering bastard and I hate him? I'll admit I was pissed off but it was hardly uncharacteristic behaviour on his part. He was doing what he felt was right. We could all wish he had stepped back and examined the situation first. And admit it Joe..wasn't there just a split second when you wondered if he wasn't in the right? I don't have that great a record after all, skeletons in my closet and all that. Anyway I refuse to add to his guilt. He broods too much as it is..even for a Scot."
Joe sighed. "I know you are right, but I find it harder to forgive Mac than you do. I guess you're just a better man than I am Methos."
Methos smiled grimly. "Oh I think not Joe. I really think not."
A moment's silence ensued and then as if mentally shaking himself out of the gloom that had settled over the room after the last few words he had uttered, Methos spoke again. It was the efficient medical man that surfaced this time however. "Let's stop dwelling on things we can't change and concentrate on those we can. I need to examine the wound on Catriona's arm. I shall want to check the site to make sure there's no possibility of infection and then I shall want to start stitching. I'd like you to keep an eye on Catriona for me, notice how she reacts, if her colour changes or her breathing..I want to know. I also want to know if she shows any signs of coming around. Can you do that for me?"
"Sure buddy, but aren't you going to use something to keep her out?" Some kind of anaesthetic? She's not immortal and even if she was it wouldn't make her immune to pain."
Methos had continued rummaging in the box for gloves, swabs, syringes and two vials. He stopped and looked at Joe's troubled face. He smiled briefly in reassurance. "It's OK Joe, I'll use a local anaesthetic on the wound itself. With her system in the state it is I can't risk putting her right out, I'd rather allow her to regain consciousness in her own time with as much help and as little hindrance as possible from me. Now take the weight off and keep hold of her left hand whilst I get started."
Joe did as instructed and watched as Methos went and scrubbed up before donning the gloves and beginning work on Catriona's arm. It was an incongruous sight, the emaciated figure clad only in wet boxer shorts and surgical gloves, his hair wet from the downpour, his skin grey from fatigue and violent red around the throat wound. A phrase rang through Joe's mind..'physician heal thyself'...he sighed inwardly at that thought...if only it were possible - but nothing in all the annals of immortal history gave any hope of healing from such a wound as Methos had received.
Having satisfied himself the the wound was clean and flushing it through with saline Methos introduced the anaesthetic to the unprotected tissue of the wound and, selecting a needle and thread from his collection, he started to sew the edges of flesh together.
"Next time the neighbourhood ladies' circle hold a quilting bee, I'll suggest they invite you." Joe quipped, attempting to keep his mind off the procedure by injecting a little humour .
Actually I can't remember the last time I attended one of those - I might take you up on the offer." Methos grinned as he completed the final stitch. He was preparing a clean dressing when he stiffened.
Knowing the look Joe let go of Catriona's hand and reached inside his coat for his gun. "We got company?" He asked.
Methos sighed and relaxed, resuming his work. "S'OK Joe, only MacLeod."
To prove it Duncan appeared in the doorway laden with blood packs purloined form the hospital.
"I got everything in the list Methos. How is she?" He asked anxiously.
"Stable for now but I need that blood right away." Methos said without even looking up. "You were a field medic in the war weren't you?"
"Yes. What do you want me to do?"
"Attach the blood bag to the drip line I already have in, but go and scrub up first I don't want any infection sneaking through at this stage."
Complying with Methos' instructions Duncan got the first of eight blood bags set up. Finding nowhere to hang it as yet he stood holding the bag above his head, allowing gravity to do its work. Methos finished dressing Catriona's arm and fetched a collapsible stand from his bag. He set it up next to the bed.
"Here, hang it on there before you get pins and needles in your arm." He said,
Feeling as though he were in a strange dream, Duncan settled the bag over the hook. Then he took a long hard look at Methos. What he saw made him frown with concern. His skin was grey and tightly drawn over the all too visible bones in his face and there were strain lines around the eyes which were red rimmed with fatigue. The garish line across his throat was livid, and though it wasn't bleeding any longer it was stubbornly refusing to heal.
Remembering his experience of throat wounds in immortals he was pessimistic about the wound ever truly healing. Kalas' never had and nor, according Connor, had The Kurgan's, it seemed from this that the damage to the vocal chords was also likely to be permanent.
He was at a loss to know what to say or do. He had irretrievably damaged this man and the fact that he had so far faced no recriminations from him made him feel doubly guilty. Not only that but because of what he had done, and aimed to do to Methos - Catriona lay seriously ill. In despair he turned his head to Joe. Reading the same censure in Joe's face that he knew was present on his own he felt suddenly claustrophobic. The need to get outside was overwhelming.
Ever the good physician, Methos noted the panic in Duncan's eyes.
"Mac, look at me." He ordered.
With an effort Duncan took a deep breath and forced himself to look at the oldest living immortal.
"I think you and I need a little fresh air. Come to the porch with me. Joe will keep an eye on Catriona. There's nothing to be done here for a while anyhow."
He held out one gloved hand to Duncan as if to seal the invitation, indicating the way to the porch with the other.
Swallowing heavily, Duncan merely nodded and led the way outside.
As the two of them left the room, Joe heaved a sigh and resumed watching Catriona - pushing a stray hair from her forehead and taking one of her hands in his he sat stroking it. Whether to reassure her, if she came round, or himself he was uncertain.
Duncan turned to face his friend, eyes troubled and apologetic.
"Methos I....."
Methos held up one hand.
"Don't Mac. I know what you are going to say. I know you feel guilty for what happened, but I think you should remember a few things before you pass judgment on yourself."
He began ticking the items off on his fingers as he went.
"One, I have a few very unpleasant skeletons in my cupboard of which you are only too well aware. Two, it is in your nature to rush in where angels fear to tread,or perhaps I should say - to ride to aid of damsels in distress - especially those you are close to ..and probably more especially members of your own clan. And it's not something I would ever want to change. Three, Cassandra very successfully manipulated my actions and my subconscious over the past few weeks and it's not unlikely that, having failed with me she made a stab at you. After all hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, betrayed and defeated, all of which apply to this case since Catriona managed to see of one method of attack. How am I doing so far?"
"All of what you say may be true Methos, but it doesn't absolve me of guilt. I should have been able to see for myself that Catriona was not asking to be saved from you. I could have asked her what the hell was going on before I weighed in and I should have trusted you more."
Methos gave a harsh laugh at that.
"Trustworthiness isn't something people generally associate with me as I recall....not even you MacLeod..and aren't you always the one telling me that trust has to be earned?"
"Yes but....."
"But nothing. I lost all right to your implicit trust two years ago. You probably spend most of your time in dealings with me wondering what my motivation is and what exactly I am hiding from you. I can't say I'd blame you either. I could wish it were otherwise but it's too late to turn the clock back." The raw ache of emotion was obvious not just in the rasping voice but also in his eyes.
"Even acknowledging all that, it doesn't change the fact that I am the one responsible for what happened to Catriona. There are no mitigating circumstances that can acquit me of liability for her injuries. Nothing you can do or say can change that."
"Maybe not." Said Methos with a heavy sigh. "I can see you're determined to wallow in your guilt whatever I say, however, if you want to expiate your deeds what you can do now is help me and Joe care for her."
"Will she survive?" Duncan asked.
"All the signs are that she will, though it may take her a while to recover fully. Now take a deep breath and let's get back inside before Joe decides we've been gone too long and comes to make sure both our heads are still intact."
As he turned back toward the door, however, Joe emerged looking apprehensive.
"Methos. I think you'd better come quick. She's started shivering and shaking. Her teeth are chattering and her skin is icy cold.">P>