I tried not to panic as Owen blacked out on the backseat. The blood from his wound dribbled down his arm quickly.
"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh..." I said, alarmed.
Hurriedly, I began to remove his jacket, careful not to injure him further. As the jacket slipped off, I finally realized how bad it was. I clamped my hand over my mouth. The bullet had lodged deep into his arm, making the wound keep bleeding. I took a deep breath to keep from hyperventilating. I didn't know what to do for him! I'd never done anything like this before!
If I tried to remove the bullet, I could make it worse. But if I left it, the metal from the bullet would poison him and his blood wouldn't clot so the injury couldn't heal. Biting my lip, I pulled his t-shirt up and over his head. I gently placed his head in my lap so I could tend his shoulder. I put my hand on his forehead and with dread, I realized it was warm. He had a fever.
If I couldn't stop the bleeding soon... I shook away the thought and focused on the task at hand. I pulled his pocket knife out of his jeans pocket and flicked it open. I sighed, dreading what I was about to do.
"I'm so sorry, Owen. This is going to hurt." I said, more to myself than him since he was drifting in and out of consciousness.
Slowly, I dug the knife into the wound and he cried out in pain. Tears pricked my eyes at seeing him suffer. I brushed strands of brown hair away from his forehead.
"Shhh," I tried to soothe him, "It's going to be okay. I just have to get this out..."
After several minutes of cutting into Owen's skin, I finally found the bullet. Carefully, I pried it out of the wound. I smiled in relief, gripping the bloody bullet in my hand before throwing it down onto the floorboard. I roughly tugged on the bottom of my Def Leppard t-shirt then, succesfully ripping a strand of it off. Wrapping it tightly around his shoulder, I knotted the ends to secure it. I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked down at him, unconscious once more but peaceful.
He was okay. We were going to be okay. I leaned down and rested my forehead against his, squeezing my eyes shut as my hair fell around his face. Gosh, I hoped I'd never have to do that again. I almost laughed at the thought. That's definetly not something I ever saw myself doing - surgery in the backseat of a car.
I lifted my head up and smiled down at Owen. My fingers glided over his warm skin before I ran them through his long dark hair. I sucked in a breath and with a start, I realized something. He was so beautiful, breathtaking even. And not only because he looked so serene due to him passing out. But because he had saved me.
He didn't have to but he'd jumped in front of the on-coming bullet. I bit my lip once more. Could...could I have feelings for him? No! No, impossible. That was absurd.
He'd kidnapped me, yelled at me, pushed me around...but still...I couldn't help but think...maybe, just maybe...things had changed between us today. Whether that was bad or good, I couldn't tell. But it was different. So very different. And I didn't know just WHAT that could mean. I bent down gingerly and picked up some of the old clothes.
Placing them on top of Owen and myself, I leaned back against the backseat. His head was still resting in my lap but I didn't bother moving him. He looked so peaceful and calm. Something he hardly ever looked, I thought to myself with a snort. All of a sudden, my stomach growled. Gosh, how long had it been since I'd had those peaches?
Soon, I'd have to go get more food. Not just for me but for him too. But not now. No, now, I would rest and watch over him until he woke up. Reaching my hand out, I picked up his pistol and checked the magazine. Only three bullets left.
I sighed. It would have to be enough. I gazed out of the window and listened to the far-off moans of walkers, one of my arms wrapped across Owen protectively. Hopefully he'd wake up soon. We couldn't stay here long.
Note: Okay for those who want to know what Angel's outfit looks like :)