Chapter Thirty-Four

Entry:

I know only of which I am uncertain. I don't know what I'm trying to say in these entries anymore. 

Phoenix.

--

Greyson didn't understand a single puncturing thought as stared over the body draped in his arms. Cole's white shirt scratched Greyson's hands, frayed edges coming undone from Greyson's tight grip. Greyson couldn't process why Daisy and Lucas were dead, why they hadn't fled or where the thieves from the back room had gone; all he knew was that Phoenix and Cole were alive. 

Greyson would do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way.

"He's been shot! He needs help!" Greyson called to the sea of scurrying people. 

The few doctors who lived in the castle rushed into the room, but Greyson couldn't get their divided attention, and he couldn't wait for more doctors to arrive on the scene. Cole was bleeding out. 

Greyson snapped to Talon. "Talon!" Greyson screamed across the room, his voice hoarse. 

Talon locked eyes with Greyson and nodded. People were shuffling around the room, eyeing Greyson with mournful gazes and avoiding his grief, but Greyson paid them no heed. 

Cole let out a small grunt. 

"You're going to be alright," Greyson sobbed. "I'm here."

Cole didn't open his eyes, so Greyson just pulled Cole in closer and held his hands against Cole's wound. Blood poured out of Cole's body and pooled in Greyson's hands, staining them red. 

Talon rushed by with a doctor who took one look at Cole and the blood and sweat coming from him, and shouted orders.

"Take him to the hall outside and lay him down on the floor. Put his head between his knees and talk him into calming down. He's in a state of shock."

Greyson wrapped Cole's arms around his neck and carried him out to the hall, pushing through the crowds of people being tended to. The doctor trailed behind him, leaving Talon inside the Throne Room to continue helping others.

Greyson gingerly dropped to a knee and propped Cole up against the wall. Blood gushed out of Cole's leg, cascading down onto the floor beneath. 

Greyson couldn't leave Cole behind.

No- stupid. The doctor had to be able to do his job. 

Greyson stood so the doctor could get a closer look at Cole. Greyson glanced at his shaking red hands and swallowed in horror. Clumps of Cole's hair slipped from between Greyson's fingers. Greyson had been cradling Cole's head and wound too tightly. 

The doctor bent over and lit a light in front of Cole's eyes and then down at his wound. "My name is Dr. Shelet," he said to Cole, "and I will be taking care of you." 

Cole's head rolled back and his body collapsed onto the cold floor. 

The doctor's head snapped to Greyson, "Get me a blanket, towels, and a bowl."

Greyson sprinted through the hall, squeezed against the walls of the tunnel, and came to the bathroom Phoenix was resting in. 

Greyson's eyes fell to her, laying on the ground and unconscious. A heavy sigh escaped his parted lips; she was safe. Greyson picked some towels off the rack and threw Phoenix over his shoulder in a big swoop! With Phoenix and the materials in hand, he ran back to the doctor 

While he passed the food tables, Greyson picked up a bowl and flipped it upside down. Fruit rolled off the table and splashed onto the ground.

"Dr. Shelet," Greyson called, approaching the doctor. 

Dr. Shelet laid out an assortment of surgical tools from a black pouch. He finished setting up his makeshift workspace before turning to Phoenix, clicking his tongue at the sight of her. 

"Is she breathing?" the doctor asked as he snapped on white gloves.

"Yes, but she was hit unconscious."

"We'll deal with her later, this man is losing a lot of blood and needs to be attended to right away. We got lucky and it was only a minor state of shock, but his condition will get worse if we let this wound go untreated."

Greyson nodded and laid Phoenix down on the ground, just beside Cole's feet. Her hair created a halo on the floor. He took a moment to brush a strand out of her face but stopped when his hands felt blood from her scalp. 

Breathe.

A violent gag seized Greyson as he inhaled the stench of vomit. 

"How can I help?" Greyson asked. "Is there anything I can do to help them?" 

The doctor huffed a sigh and brought his syringe up to a clear bottle, he filled the syringe. Greyson felt a bead of sweat slip down his warm skin. 

"He's not in shock anymore," Dr. Shelet said. "I'm going to numb his leg and disinfect the wound, then I will need to open the skin a little more so I can reach in and take out the bullet. When that time comes, I will need you to hold open the wound with tools. I'm not bothering other doctors for help yet."

Greyson gulped, seeing the dislodged flesh was making his stomach queasy.

"Is this right? He's already lost a lot of blood," Greyson said. 

"I'm a doctor, I know what I'm doing. Besides, I don't have time to wait until he feels better. I have other patients to tend to." 

The doctor impaled Cole with the syringe and released the clear liquid next to where the bullet had entered him. Greyson sat down next to the doctor so he could help.

"Before I do this, we are going to have to move him to a table," the doctor said. 

Cole was still slumped up against the wall, and was sliding down with each breath. 

There, by the end of the long hall that bloomed into a staircase, was a coffee table decorated with flowers and antiques. Greyson rushed over and, in one great motion, swept everything off the table. 

Glass shattered on the floor.

Greyson took care to brush off stray pieces of shattered antiques and stepped back to check the makeshift operating table. Without wasting any more time, Greyson rushed over to Cole and, careful to support Cole's wounded leg, hoisted him up and lifted him onto the table. The table was just big enough to fit Cole's lanky body and it rocked under his weight. The doctor took a pair of scissors and cut Cole's pants off above the wound. 

"Good. Now give me my scalpel," the doctor directed. 

"The what?" Greyson asked.

"Just give me my tool tray." 

Greyson picked up the assortment of sharp tools and ran them over to the unsteady table. 

The doctor took the scalpel and, with a steady hand, dug into Cole's skin and peeled open the skin more. Blood gushed out and stained the doctor's elastic gloves.

"Towel," the doctor instructed. 

Greyson wiped the blood away with the towel and returned to his post right behind the doctor. 

"Take those two picks and hold this wound open." Dr. Shelet switched from his scalpel to his tweezers. 

Greyson hesitatively took the tools and glanced at the wound. His hand flew to cover his mouth as a gag forced its way up. Cole's pale flesh had been sliced ajar, exposing a yellow cushion that oozed various liquids. It's not a human leg being turned inside out, it's simply a lesson in biology. Think positively. 

"The bullet isn't too deep," the doctor explained. 

Greyson took the two picks and pried open Cole's skin, the squish of flesh making Greyson shudder violently. 

"Be still," the doctor directed. 

Using a pair of thin tweezers, the doctor dove into the wound. 

"How do you know where the bullet is?" Greyson asked to distract himself from the blood that spurts onto his arms.

"If you feel the outside of his skin, you can tell," the doctor briefly answered.

"Will he be in pain?"

"Quiet."

Greyson shut himself up and watched intently as the doctor's tools sank into the soft tissues of Cole's leg. For a moment of blissful distraction, he wondered where Talon was. A familiar voice shouted from the Throne Room; Talon was working there. The doctor searched for a little bit, one hand on Cole's thigh to feel where the bullet was and the other maneuvering the tweezers.

Then, the doctor's hands stopped.

"Got it," he announced.

Pulling up, the doctor revealed a dented bullet and dropped it into the bowl. 

"We have to clean and close the wound," he explained.

The doctor replaced his gloves and set his used tools aside, wiping them clean. Greyson released Cole's skin.

"We need more disinfectant. And I need another doctor to help." 

Greyson nodded and went back into the Throne Room in search of more help, only to be overwhelmed by the shuffling crowd. Healthy victims were being relocated to other rooms. Some were staying behind to help find the wounded or the dead while others were holding each other and crying. There were no free-roaming doctors around to help, so Greyson earnestly walked up to a young woman who was wrapping a bandage over a man's head.

"Excuse me, miss," Greyson started.

"Is it an emergency? I need to focus on this wound," she dismissed, not taking her eyes from the patient in front of her.

"We need help closing a bullet wound. Dr. Shelet said it was quite bad and that he needed help and more disinfectant."

Just apply slight pressure and tie it off at the end. Where is this operation taking place?"

"In the hallway on the left side on an old coffee table."

The doctor nodded and ran off, not wasting a minute. 

Greyson wanted to look over to Cole as he underwent his procedure, but he feared his stomach would explode. He was also stuck with caring for the man in front of him. Greyson had taped up his own various injuries and sores all time, so wrapping this gentleman's head was easy enough.

"Thank you for letting me take your doctor," Greyson said while working.

The man attempted a smile and struggled to slur, "s'okay. That poor girl, shot in front of all of us like that. She was right, though. The gunmen were all cowards." 

Greyson's eyes shot to the man's and his breath hitched. "Soft face, blonde hair, and blue eyes?" 

The man nodded and dropped his eyes to the floor. Tears pricked Greyson's eyes but a smile grew on his face.

  "She always did have a smart mouth," Greyson whimpered too quietly for the man to catch.

He shook away his thoughts and focused on finishing up the bandage. Tying off the final knot, Greyson shot up and rushed over to where the operation was taking place. 

"Greyson, come here!" Talon shout interrupted Greyson's plans. 

Greyson let out a sigh of frustration but went over to Talon to see what was so urgent.

"We have to move her, this room must be sealed and cleaned," Talon said, gesturing to Daisy.

Greyson wanted to cry, wanted to sink to the floor, and bury his head in his hands. He reminded himself that she was dead and that he needed to focus on people who were still alive. There was no time to think, no time to lose himself in his thoughts and sleep for days. Just go, go, go. 

"I'll move her," Greyson said. 

He bent down and wrapped his arms around Daisy, cradling her delicate and dangling frame close. Even though she was lighter than Cole, Greyson felt weighed down carrying a lifeless body. 

"She needs to be put with the other casualties so we can stay organized," Talon instructed, eyes glaring.

"Where is that?"

"For now, everyone is being lined up in the bedroom to the right of the main staircase."

Greyson nodded, gazing to the ground again. He didn't have the time to mourn right now; he had to snap out of it. 

"I'll move Lucas there, too," Greyson spoke softly.

After Talon's declaration to kill Greyson, he wasn't surprised that Talon didn't provide any comforting reassurances. Even still, Greyson it would have been nice if Talon was a little warmer.

"Good. I'll take care of Bird, you won't lay a hand on her. You take care of Cole."

"But I-" Greyson tried to interject. 

"No. You've lost that privilege. As your Prince, I command you to not touch her again tonight unless absolutely necessary."

Daisy was slipping out of Greyson's grasp, so he reluctantly agreed with Talon's condition and fled. He maneuvered through the halls, making a point to look in the opposite direction of Cole's table; Greyson was afraid he'd break if he caught another glimpse. Greyson struggled as he shifted Daisy in his arms so he could open the door.

Seven other bodies rested in this room. Lucas and Daisy would make nine, and who knew how many more there were in the Throne Room. He lowered Daisy onto the floor, in line with the other bloodied corpses. He should leave before his swirling thoughts clung onto him. Should hurry and bring Lucas over, check on Cole. 

Instead, Greyson found himself smiling softly as tears rolled off his chin. He leaned down so he was face to face with the woman and stared intently at the hole gauging her forehead. As Cole once did, Greyson gently pressed his lips on the side of her temple and pushed a few loose strands of hair behind Daisy's ear. 

"I'll be back to mourn you," Greyson promised her.

His eyes dropped to the floor and he pulled away. Without glancing back, Greyson rose from his spot and left to find Lucas. Greyson made his way through the Throne Room and inside the small tunnel. No one had touched the dead boy since he was shot, he was still lying in the back room, a pool of blood gathering around his head. There was a small cloth sitting on Lucas' head from when Phoenix had tried to heal the "scratch." 

A memory flashed in before Greyson: Cole hushing Bird and Daisy's laughter, insisting they would wake up Lucas. Greyson smiling at the sleeping boy, his mouth open slightly as drool dangled from his chin. Greyson stood and lifted Lucas up, careful not to wake him. Cole followed him to Lucas's room and they tucked the boy in together. They shared a soft smile and returned to the giggling girls.

This time, it was dried blood that ran down Lucas's mouth. This time, he wouldn't be returning to laughter. 

Keep going.

Greyson made his way back to the bedroom. He risked a glance towards the operating table as he carried Lucas in his arms. The doctors were still working, but Cole's leg looked a lot cleaner, and the wound much tamer. 

As Greyson opened the bedroom door again, he saw that another corpse had been laid down next to Daisy's. The count was now ten.

He laid Lucas on the bed, not caring about the blood staining the blankets. He went over to the line of corpses and gently pushed the one by Daisy over a couple of feet to the side, leaving a gap big enough for Lucas.

This would not be their final resting place, but Greyson would make sure the siblings weren't apart. He caressed Lucas's body and rested it by Daisy's, his fingers lingering on Lucas's fingers, the young boy's skin cold and rough with dried blood. Greyson gently pulled away his embrace, but his stare remained. 

He could not start crying again. Greyson fled the room before he would have had a breakdown, slamming the door behind him. With a set jaw he marched to the operating table and noticed that the doctors were cleaning up.

"How was it?" Greyson asked with a nervous shake in his voice.

"He will recover just fine. Physically, at least," the doctor explained. "Where is that blanket I asked for?"

Greyson shut up and turned right back around, cursing himself for forgetting. Rushing back to the bedroom, he yanked the top blanket off the bed. It was hard to ignore the bloodstain Lucas had left a minute before.

Greyson reported back to the doctor, blanket in hand.

"It will have to do," Dr. Shelet sighed, noticing the stain. 

Cole's leg was already bandaged and wiped clean, so Greyson didn't understand the purpose of the blanket.

"Why do you need this?"  he asked. 

The woman doctor stood and returned into the hall to continue helping the others, not sparing him a second glance.

"What is this boy's name?" Dr. Shelet asked.

"Cole."

"Cole entered a mild state of shock. Most of the blood I thought he had lost was just another corpse's blood, so the wound wasn't as bad as originally anticipated.

"However," the doctor continued, putting the blanket over Cole, "shock can be just as deadly as a wound. And while his state of shock is over, it's best to continue treating it and keep him warm. I have already elevated his feet and stabilized his breathing. You need to keep on using the towel to wipe off the sweat. I will inject sterile water," the doctor pulled out a small opaque flask, "through my syringe so he doesn't throw up. Luckily, it was only shock from the event and not from the wound, so it was not the worst it could have been. He has a stable heartbeat but as soon as you can, you need to move him to the infirmary."

"Yes sir." 

Dr. Shelet guided his syringe to Cole's skin, applying enough pressure for the needle to puncture. Water drained from the tool and into Cole's body.

"How would he throw up if he's unconscious?" Greyson wondered.

"What?" the doctor looked up to Greyson in bewilderment. "This man is very much conscious."

Greyson's eyes widened and he glanced over to Cole. His dark hair was covering his eyes but Greyson could see his eyelids blinking open and close in a daze.

"Cole!" Greyson yelled.

"He is confused and sensitive, do not shout," Dr. Shelet warned with a bite in his speech.

Greyson pushed the hair out of Cole's face.

"How do you feel?" Greyson whispered, frantically moving his hands from Cole's cheek to his ear and the back of his neck. He was alive, alive, alive!

Cole let out a wheeze of pain.

"Don't move," Greyson pleaded as his hands pushed Cole's chest back down flat onto the table. 

Had Cole felt pain during the operation? Screw that pain, Greyson realized, Daisy's blood had been soaking into Cole's skin. And the doctor had said he numbed the Cole's wound.

Greyson turned back to Dr. Shelet. "Can you treat her now?" he said, his hand pointing to Phoenix's still body.

"Yes. Get another person to help you and carry Cole to the infirmary. I'll look at her."

With a nod of his head, Greyson leaped up to search for Talon. A quick survey told Greyson that the Prince was moving with the shuffling crowd out of the Throne Room Greyson followed the Prince out of the Throne Room, down the Grand Staircase, and into the Great Hall, where the royal siblings were handing out blankets and warm drinks. 

"Talon!" Greyson shouted from the top of the stairs. "I need your help, it's the family!" 

Talon's eyes shot up from the first floor and he gave a curt nod. Running to the top of the stairs, he met Greyson with a short breath. 

"We need to carry Cole to the infirmary."

Talon surrendered another nod and trailed Greyson back to the makeshift operating table. The Prince moved so he was parallel with Cole's feet, his arms supporting Cole's legs. Greyson gripped Cole's armpits. On three, they hoisted Cole up and carried him down the hall. 

"You do know where the infirmary is, right?" Talon gritted as they approached the staircase.

"Door to the right behind the stairs on the first floor," Greyson huffed, concentrating on not dropping Cole. He was a lot heavier without adrenaline pumping through Greyson's system.

"The stairs are going to be a problem," Talon foresaw.

"Let's perch him on my back while you hold him up from behind to make sure he doesn't fall." 

Talon agreed and they re-adjusted their positions so that they could carry Cole down the stairs. They descended with ease; Greyson felt relief wash over him. But with each step, with each labored breath and sweat beading on Greyson's forehead, the relief morphed into the fear of dropping Cole.

"There are so many stairs," Greyson cursed through loud intakes of breath.

"No, you're just too tired," Talon sneered. 

Greyson opened his mouth to retort, but his foot slipped and he grappled to stop himself from falling. Leaning himself to the side, he collapsed his body against the wall and held himself up. 

"Once you're in the infirmary, take a break," Talon instructed. 

Perhaps Greyson had been wrong about the Prince and his selfish ways. 

"Just a few more steps, Greyson." 

Right, Cole had to be safe. Greyson couldn't collapse now. Pushing himself off the wall, Greyson stomped down the rest of the stairs in one breath. 

"Let's change our positions so I can carry him-" Talon began, but Greyson inhaled sharply and marched, determined, to the infirmary.

Talon followed closely behind. An older woman approached them and stopped the Prince for water. Greyson didn't bother to wait up as he ran into the infirmary- he didn't need the Prince. The infirmary was flooded with people, green faces leaning up against white walls. Greyson picked the closest available bed and gently laid Cole down. 

Greyson felt like shit. 

Broad shoulders fell in a slouch when his brown-green eyes glanced at Cole. There was still more work to be done. He had to finish helping the other victims, thank the doctors, check on Phoenix; so much more work.

Greyson propped Cole's feet up on a pillow, pulled the blanket over him, put a bucket near the edge of the bed, and placed a glass of water on the bedside table. Chair. Greyson needed to sit. Once a metal foldable one was in hand, he plopped down at Cole's bedside and yielded a great yawn.

Greyson couldn't sleep now. He had to watch over Cole. 

I'll let my body sleep later, so wait please, Greyson thought, My eyes are so heavy... 

Greyson's eyes collapsed in utter exhaustion.