Chan Jeol stays leaning heavily against the wall, blocking Hwang's exit as she stays in the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter. There knives are still raised towards each other as they stare at the other, waiting for them to make a move. Hwang is still smirking, but it seems like she's struggling to keep up the charade as she clutches her stomach, her face draining of color. Chan Jeol furrows his brows and his eyes travel down to where her hand is pressing against the table cloth she still has wrapped around her midline. He lowers his knife slowly as he sees the fresh blood starting to stain the cloth, creating a juxtaposition.
He very slowly and deliberately, keeping his eyes fixed on Hwang's, drops the knife onto the floor next to his feet. His ribs protest as he straighten up, showing her his now empty hand. Her smile drops, and she thankfully places the knife down on the counter as she exhales, leaning onto it even further, closing her eyes.
"You need to lie down." He tells her.
"I'm fine." She says through gritted teeth, her accent now creeping back.
Her eyes remain closed, and she makes no move to try to escape, so he slowly inch towards her back into the cabin. She grimaces and opens her eyes, following his moves. Chan Jeol keeps his hand out in front of him, as if he is approaching a wild horse that could spook at any moment. She doesn't, just keeps watching him with wide, blue eyes. Now that he's closer, he can tell how forcefully she's breathing. When he's just an arm's length away from her, he stops.
"I'm going to help you onto the couch, ok?" He asks her, not quite sure how that is going to work in practicality with his one functioning arm and cracked ribs.
She looks him up and down quickly, looks like she's about to retort, but finally seems to accept his offer, nodding with closed eyes. He nods back and place himself next to her, keeping her on the side of his right arm.
"I'm going to put my arm around your waist, and you can use me as a crutch, alright? We're just going to walk around the table and to the couch, it's not far." He speaks as he looks over at her. She nods again, eyes closed, furrowing her brow.
Chan Jeol carefully sneaks his arm around her and takes a hold of her waist, careful as to not come close to her wound. The moment she feels his arm she leans over on him, still clutching herself. A small whimper escapes his lips as his ribs groan in protest and her eyes flutter open and she looks at him, her eyes searching his.
"You ok?" She asks him.
"Yes." He lie's, at which she looks unconvinced. "Let's get this show on the road." He says before she has the time to say anything, to which she lets out a soft chuckles.
"This is going to go fine." He reassures her and himself, and he starts moving, feeling her follow. They shuffle there way across the cabin and by the time they've made it to the couch, all color has drained off of Hwang's face and he feels like puking from the pain.
"Careful." He warns her as she slowly sinks down onto the old, grey sofa. She gives him a look and he gives her a small shrug.
Once she's on the couch he helps her lift her legs up so that she's spread out across it. He slowly sink down on his knees next to her, and they both take a moment, catching there breaths as if they just done the most exhaustive task. Once he managed to catch my breath, he return his attention to Hwamg. I have no idea what other agents are planning, but I hope they make up their minds soon on how to proceed, I don't know how long I can keep Hwang alive without any medical supplies, and I for one would kill for some Tylenol
"Bathroom." Hwang suddenly says.
"Huh?"
"Bathroom." She repeats, smiling weakly. "Medical supplies."
"How did-" he stutters.
"You're quite loud." She murmurs.
He stares at her for a second, confused. Then he realize she means his thoughts.
"Stop staring and go." Hwang murmurs, closing her eyes. "That's surely not the weirdest thing you've heard of."
He shakes his head. No, it isn't. But it's nonetheless disconcerting having it done to you, without knowing it's happening. He stop his train of thoughts, struck by another one. She could be listening in on me right now. He searches Hwang's face for any clue, but she's blank. He realizes she's still way too pale, and get up, feeling slightly sickly as his broken arm throbs. Unbeknownst to him, as he turns away, Hwang smiles ever so slightly.
Chan Jeol stand's up, swaying slightly, looking around the cabin. In the light of day, it looks much less abandoned, and a lot cozier. He's standing next to the windows at the back of the cabin, which are letting in soft, grey light. It's most probably cloudy outside. He looks past Hwang on the couch. The broken table is littering the floor behind the couch, there are uneven pools of dried up blood there and there, a cabinet has fallen over, but if you disregard the mess, it is not so bad. To his right is the entrance to what he is assuming is the bedroom, and next to it is a closed wooden door. He takes his chances and walk up to it, opening it and stepping into a small bathroom.
He finds the switch and turn the light on. Straight ahead is a sink, under which there is a cabinet. He accidentally catchs his own reflection in the mirror over the sink. Not my best look. His hair is completely disheveled, he has a black eye and blood smeared across his face.
Chan Jeol ignores his reflection and heads towards the cabinet. He crouches down slowly, mindful of his ribs, and carefully open the cabinet doors. The inside is rather empty, but he instantly note a red box with a white cross. He grabs it without looking inside it and heads back over to the couch.
Hwang opens her eyes as she sees Chan Jeol arrive. He returns to his crouching position on the floor next to her shoulders and place the box down on the carpet. He has no issue with blood, but he's not very trained in injuries. I just know the basics from what I learned back when I was training for the job. Stabwound, stabwound, he racks his brain as he moves to open the first aid kit. He finds a pair of scissors and bandages. Nothing to sterilize the wound.
"Do you have any alcohol?" He asks Hwang, still trying to search through the box.
"I don't usually want my doctor drinking as they work on me." Hwang says, her voice cracking slightly and a slight smile on her face.
"Don't worry, I'm not a doctor." He looks up at Hwang, seeing her smile softly. He's never seen her smile before, he notes, and smiles back.
"I've got some red wine in the kitchen."
He sighs at having to move again, but gose to get it, hoping it will have enough alcohol in it to at least clean out the wound slightly. He finds the bottle in one of the cupboards and returns with it. Hwang now opens her eyes, seemingly not able to focus on him.
"What are you doing?" She asks, her accent making her softly roll her r.
"I need to clean out the wound. I think." He says and she fixes on him with her gaze. "It'll be fine. I just need to keep you alive long enough for-" "Them to kill me?" Hwanb finishes his sentence incorrectly.
"They're not here to kill you." He says, incredulously. Why would she think that? "They just want to take you back to the States and-" "Hmm." She interrupts him again.
"Just start." She says coldly.
He dosn't bother explaining to her the facts surrounding her arrest, instead, he begins untying the tablecloth. The dry blood crunches as he begins removing it, exposing Hwang's stomach bathed in fresh blood slowly trickling from a dark, swollen hole on her right side. He unscrews the cork on the wine bottle and lifts it over her wound, before pouring It warning her.
"This is probably not going to be very pleasant."
"Humph." Is all she says and he tilts the bottle, red wine mixing with her blood.
Hwang holds it in for as long she can, but eventually lets out a pained scream and he instantly stop. It's probably enough anyway. Chan Jeol quickly and as softly as he can start cleaning away the wine and blood from her, before getting her to lift up slightly so he can wrap the clean bandage around her waist, which proves rather difficult as he can only use one hand.
"Here." He says when he's done, bringing the bottle of wine up to her face, earning a confused look from her. "Figure you might as well clean out the wound inside out." He shrugs and she takes the bottle from me, taking a few big gulps. And lets out a soft hum.
"For you, doc." She says and hands the bottle back to him.
He smiles at her and bring the bottle head to his lips, feeling the cool, smooth liquid tumble down his parched throat.
"Mm, who knew?" He says, looking at the bottle, impressed.
"Who knew." Hwang repeats and sits up clumsily.
"Your turn. Give me the box."
"My turn what?" He asks confused, handing her the box. "To be the patient." She says and pats the sofa next to her.
"I'm fine, thank you." He lies and she lifts her eyebrow in that way he noticed she does.
"I'm not going to break your bones twice." She rolls her eyes. "We don't have to speak at all after this, but let me do this for you now."
Chan Jeol sighs and pushes himself onto the couch. He gives her a look, then hands her hid left arm. She carefully places her hands underneath his forearm and places it down on her lap. She begins to undo the knot on the tablecloth and he has to look away, hid body tensing up. He occupys himself with trying to read the titles on the spines of the books away in the corner on some shelves, but they're in the shadows and he can't figure out in what language most of them are in.
"You know, I could have healed us if you had not put these things on me." Hwang says, slightly annoyedly.
"You did this to me without those things on. I much prefer you like this." He tells her and she shoots him a look that tells him to tread carefully.
"You did not give me much choice." She says and continues working on his arm. He's surprised she's being so careful not to hurt him.
"I told you we weren't going to hurt you." He say again, feeling slightly foolish as Hwang shoots him another of her looks.
They sit in silence for a while as she finishes up with his arm, creating a makeshift sling for him out of the bloody tablecloth. He rest his arm in it and she leans back against the back of the sofa, looking tired, her white hair a lot lighter than he imagined it to be.
"I dye it." She tells him.
"Right." He says, feeling uncomfortable. Bicose shes reading his toughts.
"I'm sorry, it's difficult to control when I'm tierd." Hwang says and seems genuinely sorry.
"I thought the cuffs are meant to hinder your powers." He say choosing not to use the word 'stop'.
"I can't seem to use anything else, anything that affects something physically." Hwang muses, holding her right hand out in front of her and twirling it softly, her eyes following the movements as nothing happens. The cuff on her wrist hums slightly louder.
"I didn't mean to hurt anyone." She speaks again, letting her hand drop on her lap. She doesn't meet his eyes but keeps looking down at her hands, studying the cuffs. Chan Jeol thinks back on what Agent Eun Woo told him before I left:
"Remember, I think she wants to do good. She is dangerous, but only when backed into a corner, or when she feels threatened."
Hwang looks up at him curiously, but doesn't say anything. Chan Jeol think back on what he read up on from her file, trying to match what he read with what he's observed. The Hwang I'm sitting half a meter away from now seems like the polar opposite of the Hwang of last night, who seemed to fall in line with the Hwang from the file.
"I think..." he begins slowly.
"I think sometimes you want to do the thing you see as right, but it's not always as straightforward as you imagine in your head." She says slowly, looking down deep in touth.