The Artful Dodger

1.02 Highjacked Operations

I watched in horror as the prof continued to try and pay this off to the crowd. A few minutes ago Jack started to pace. He seemed very concerned, which I can only assume that this situation is even worse then it is. Hetty and the prof were doing their best to stop the bleeding while the prof kept rambling on to the crowd. I stopped caring what he was saying however.

I brought my hand to my mouth, willing myself to not chew on the end of my thumb from the nerves I feel. Jack's pacing brought him back over to me. He lowered his hand, he too had his hand to cover his mouth in a way. His hand balled in a fist as he rubbed his thumb along his curled fingers. "What is happening?" I asked him panacked as I too dropped my hand. "His bowel is falling out." Jack told me.

I looked at him to see he had both hands on his hips. "Do something." I urged. I placed my hand on his chest. "You have to do something" I told him. I looked back to the prof. He has no idea what he is doing. He is losing the patient.

"Well, nothing more to be done. Just the to and fro of normal medicine." the old man told the audience. I quickly turned and grabbed Jack's shoulder, pulling him a few steps away. "He'll die if you don't do something. Quick!" I said to him in hushed tones. Jack shook his head, he seemed to not care anymore. "He will die, anyway. It's abdominal. We can't operate. The pain alone would kill him." he told me. The look on his face told me there is nothing he will do.

"There has to be something" I argued. "No, Kim. There is nothing" he told me. I shook my head and walked out. There has to be something. I do have ether after all. Maybe, just maybe that will make it possible for Jack to do something. I rushed all the way to my bag and began to rummage through it. I know I brought it. But where it is is another story.

"Aha" I mumbled to myself as I pulled the bottle out. I held it up, looking at the bottle to make sure it hasn't broken at all. Once I was sure it was good, I instantly rushed back to the operating theatre. I walked to the table an grabbed a cloth before moving to stand next to Jack. He had his hands crossed behind his back. "I told you, he refuses to ether patients." he told me. I looked up at him as I wetted the towel with a dab of ether. "Yeah, I wasn't thinking of the patient." I mumbled to him.

"You tell her you're a murdering buffoon who's killed me!" Tinkler yelled at the prof. I am assuming he asked about final words then. "This is just normal behaviour for someone in a state of shock. Blood loss will also cause..." the prof tried to play it off. I placed the ether down. Slowly I walked to the prof and cut off his speach. "You're sweating, sir." I said as I dabbed his head. "Oh. Thank you." he mumbled. "Or are they manly tears for a comrade? Here." I added as I slowly made my way down his face before placing the cloth over his nose.

I moved to the side as he dropped to the ground. He is out like a light. The crowd gave a saddened aww for the prof. Not that he deserves it. He nearly killed this patient because he wanted to show off.

"Take over." I said as I turned to Jack. He stepped forward to me. "What?" he said baffled before moving to look over the patient. "But I've never done abdominal surgery before. No one has." he said and looked at me. He sounds so angry. "He'll die, anyways. His bowels are around his knees." I snapped at him. I moved to walk around the operating table before going to the man's head.

"Everybody out. Go on." Jack snapped at the crowed. That is probably a good idea. But no one will believe us in the end. However, now that I think of it, that may be intentional so the prof will take credit without people saying otherwise and costing Jack his job. "Tim, can you deal with the Prof?" he asked as he grabbed the ether. "I have no idea how much ether to use." he said as he looked between the bottle and me.

"So, experiment. The amount they've been drinking, they'll be out for weeks anyhow." I told him. He nodded. Thank god he was willing to attempt what is about to come. "There, breathe in." Jack said as he held the cloth to the man's nose.

Jack placed an incision on the man's abdomen. He began to look around to see what was wrong, besides the fact that he has his intestines at his knees. "The idiot's perforated his bowel." Jack told me. I glanced at him to see he was already looking at me. "I'm gonna have to cut out this section here and then join it up." he informed. Truly it was more like he was educating.

My chest began to squeeze. Immense pain flooding me. I groaned softly as my hand made its way towards my chest. "Just a moment." I said excusing myself. I walked away, feeling Jacks eyes on me as I left. I moved to lean on the other side of the door. I took a few deep breathes. The moment I felt better I walked back in.

As I made my way back to the table, Jack threw a piece of bowel at the floor. "Staunch that blood. I can't see a damn thing." Jack said as I made my way to where Hetty stood. "I can suture it." I said. Jack looked up at me, concern covering his face. "Are you sure? I don't need you fainting on me again." he said.

I had to keep from rolling my eyes, letting out a light laugh. I hadn't fainted, why he is being dramatic I don't know. "I'm fine." I told him. Jack made a quick glance to the man who's blood is all over him before he looked back at me. "How's your needlework?" Jack asked me.

I gave him a confused work. Hadn't I just offered to do this? Wouldn't that mean I know how to sew. Jack leaned back and grabbed the needle and thread from the instrument table. "'Cause I'll need you to stitch up the bowel before I can feed it back in." he told me. He held the needle up for me. Well then. I guess I was relatively right then. "I do a lot of embroidery." I told him. Jack gave me a confused look.

I began to sew the bowel. "It is no secret that I grew up in a life of luxury, that you so annoyingly always point out. However, just because my parents had wealth, does not mean that it was always sunshine and rainbows" I told him. I could feel him watching me closely; going from watching my work to watching my face.

"When I was seven, I was taken. Took the authorities a fortnight to find me." I informed him. I could feel his concerned and intrigued eyes burning into my face. "My mother has since forbade me from ever leaving the house. I spent my days cooped up in my room, doing anything I could to keep sane as I watched my sisters play outside with their friends. I read, and I wrote, and I embroidered. Made outfits and blankets and pillows for those in need. It wasn't until we moved here four years ago that my mother has slowly lessened her choking guard" I told him. I finished off the bowel before tying it. I held up the needle to him and he took it. I watched Jack place it on the instrument tray before he began to thread the bowel back into the man's body. Perhaps with some of my truth, he won't think me the spoiled brat he has seemed to deem me as.