48. Clove

Connor's POV

I watched the doctors treat a delirious, tired Benji while wondering what had come over him. If I knew him at all, he wouldn't be here without every other supernatural being accounted for. I know that people can have some personality changed when their lives are on the line, but I can't imagine Benji being anything but a slightly suicidal maniac. It's so uncharacteristic that I'll have to ask him later what came across him. However, he isn't in any position to answer right now. From the moment he stood up, I could tell that he wasn't in the right frame of mind. It's scary for me to see him that way, without a single rational thought other than getting out.

I thought back to the way he looked when he stood up from that bush. There was a quiet plea for help resonating from his brown eyes, and his posture was less than to be desired. Blood poured from the wound on his leg, and his face was ashen and scratched. I can see that I got out worlds better than he did; I don't even think he noticed the knife sticking out of his arm. I had picked him up because I doubted his ability to go any farther.

While we walked, he was spouting some kind of nonsense at me. I'm sure that what he was saying made sense to him, but to me, it was nothing more than a bundle of words with no meaning. Bits of black dirt surrounded the entrance to the wound, and it didn't take a medical professional to know that he was not okay. One day, he's going to push himself too far. What then, I wonder? He should have known that we would do body searches through the whole woods in the morning, so why did he pull himself through the dirt despite the risk..?

After an hour of monitoring his situation, the doctor sat back. "He should be alright with a little bit of time. He mustn't walk on that leg in his condition. I would like for you to see that happens whether or not it goes without issue. That man is in a lot of danger if he's left to wander around." His words only confused me even more. How does a gunshot wound equate to bedrest? I know that infection is nothing to joke around with, but he should be alright to continue on with a bit of caution, right?

"What do you mean, sir? What does his walking on his leg have to do with his well-being at this point? I know that there are dangers, but why does he need to stay off of it from that? Couldn't he just use a crutch or something and still get on with what he needs to do?" The doctor gave me a look that made me feel inferior, but I chose to ignore it. I might look like an idiot with my lack of knowledge, but I won't allow him to force that feeling on me.

"The type of bullet they used is loaded up with clove, which is very deadly to a warlock like himself. Moving around that limb too much will stir up the blood and make the herb spread to the rest of his body, effectively killing him. We cannot allow that to happen; I trust that you know that. He is the single most important on the planet right now; everyone rallies behind him. As his friend, I feel that he would listen to you more than anyone else. Convince him not to move and put himself in danger."

"I will do my best, but I can't be sure that it would work. Benji has always been an intense spirit, so it isn't possible for me to keep him contained all of the time... I don't even know if the threat of death will keep him still for long. I know that he's necessary for our cause, but I can only do so much. Don't blame me if I fail because of his recklessness." The man gave me a dirty look, but everyone in this clearing knows that what I say is true. He will not stay down for long without a rope or a strong arm.

"Whatever, just don't blame me if he dies from it. I know that you don't think that what I'm saying is true, but he will die with too much movement."

"Doesn't blood circulate whether or not he moves?"

"I have a block that will keep the clove out when there's enough oxygen to the blood. It doesn't help how thin Benjamin's blood is in the first place. What is a doctor supposed to do when everything is going so wrong with him. He's such a medical anomaly. And how in the hell did the humans know what his weakness would be?"

"That second one I do have an answer to. There's a person that will pay if Benji dies from his injuries. I'm supposed to have more loyalty to that person, but because of recent circumstances, I couldn't care if he lives or dies."

"That sounds awful."

"Doesn't matter. That man has way overstepped his boundary." Silence rang out after my words, and I turned around. "Let me know when he wakes up, please. I'll probably be needed for keeping him still and carrying him around until we can get back to the town hall."

"I will, thank you." I left the doctor behind in the tent and allowed myself to calm down finally. Why does Benji have to be so reckless? I have no doubt that he knew what was in his leg, so why did he continue dragging himself? Did he really want to get here this bad?

I sat on the top of a tree, watching the fortress. I can see from here that the humans are celebrating their victory; whatever fighting there was is over. I'm sure that they've taken their prisoners of war or whatever, and it's too soon to count to see how many are missing and dead. I know that Benji is going to beat himself up over this once he wakes up. It really isn't his fault that it didn't work. Neither one of us expected the sheer number of humans in such a small area. It's also no secret that this wasn't his original line of thought. I don't think that others realize just how much thought he puts into these things. This was a simple mistake that he won't let happen again.

I soon fell asleep against the bark of the tree when my adrenaline wore out. It's been a long day, and the fight that I had with Benji felt like years ago. I know that I'm not going to just forget about it, but he didn't mean the way it sounded. I will forgive him eventually, but not very soon. It's the nature of the beast, I suppose, and I can't get rid of it. All friendships face fights, but we will get past it. I would venture to say that we already have...