“Please Don’t Cry.”
CONTENT WARNING: BLOOD MENTIONS. There are several mentions of blood throughout this entry. Do not read if this will cause a problem for you. There are many other posts available without a blood mention. This just may not be the one for you. Thanks for reading!
You would think I would have gotten a lot of reading time lately. But I haven’t. I have found that the Law dictates that the more interesting I find a book, the less likely I will be able to read it, the more likely life will get interesting, and the more likely it is that the moment I pick up the book something will occur that means I gotta put it back down. Such is life.
Master Pravus was really looking forward to a recent day off. I nestled into my little Kitty nest, and he bustled about in the kitchen getting a drink. (I was about to get on IV fluids.) As I opened my book (oh no!) I literally hear a yelp from the kitchen.
“Kitty!”
I jumped up (I had not got on fluids yet.)
“Do you need. Is. Are you OK?” I tried.
“I cut myself,” Master Pravus said sharply, “No. No. I’m not OK. Help.”
But as he was saying these things he came, with his hand held tightly in a towel into the library. Booked it. (Ugh, sorry). As soon as I took a glance at him and at the wound I realized this was serious. I went into “Kitty FIX” mode, and started rushing around at top speeds.
The trouble with Master Pravus being sick or injured (as he will admit) is that, ordinarily when I PANIK and go into “Kitty FIX” mode, he is usually one step ahead of me and he is going into “MASTER GROWL” Mode. Which is kind of the same thing, but barky, and with more blood.
“Kitty get the steri-strips.”
“The steri-“
“Kitty. In the medicine cabinet.”
“Kitty. Have you tried the third bin to the left?”
“Kitty? Kitty. Kitty… I don’t. I.”
And I looked over at him suddenly in the middle of my rushing around and he was laying there, with his face covered in sweat and when I touched him he was ice cold. Master Pravus is warm. My Master is always warm. Even in the Winter with all the windows down he has the warm.
“Why am I so cold..?” he weakly asked me.
“Oh gawd. Oh gawd. The hospital. I have to get you there. I don’t. I can’t. Should I call an ambulance?”
“Kitty.”
“I don’t know what to do with a 300 pound man if he passes out. I need to think of something. Should I get all of your medications?”
“Kit..”
“Just. Lie down. I’m going to figure this out. Does anyone live close? I can’t find the steri-strips. Oh gawd.”
I tried to help guide Master Pravus to lay down on the couch and gently wiped his forehead. But as he lay there looking like he was either going to faint or going into shock or GAWD KNOWS WHAT I couldn’t figure out what to do without the steri-strips and with this fucking wound that we both couldn’t get to stop bleeding. So of course I did the only thing that a reasonable slave does in these times when it has no idea what to do or how to serve her Master, yes?
I started ugly crying. Like I just started trembling and shaking and crying because I couldn’t figure out how to? Or what to do to help Master Pravus. He would still talk to me if I prompted but I could tell he didn’t want to. And I wasn’t entirely sure if he was in shock from too much pain or if he was having a fainting episode from (too much pain?) or what was happening to him. I couldn’t tell. But I couldn’t. Like I just short-circuited and I felt just completely overwhelmed at not being able to handle this problem.
“Kitty? I’m OK..” Master Pravus sprang up, but he looked ashy grey and I wasn’t feeling too good about him sitting up.
“Do you want to go to the hospital?” I tried again. He reiterated several times “No.” I was just too scared and didn’t know what to do without the right tools.
After Master Pravus sat up for a little bit, he calmed down. And we got steri-strips. But he isn’t well right now. His finger is really bad and we’re waiting for Monday to get to the doctor. The wound keeps reopening and we are doing our best with it. After we got him all bandaged up, I don’t think either of us could see straight. I felt a little like the world was going on around me and I was just there, and Master Pravus looked like Hell. I didn’t feel like we had won. I tried to snuggle up close to help comfort him.
“Oh no!” Master Pravus suddenly blurted, noting the time. “I didn’t mean to make you miss your Dragon Hour. I feel so bad!”
“No, fuck. No. Dragon isn’t like that. I’m sure if they were bleeding you’d want me to care for them. Dragon isn’t gonna be mad I was trying to keep you from a swoon instead of chatting. They’re not like that.” We both had the worst afternoon and he’s worried about a long-distance partner instead of his awful injury. That’s just like him. But it’s also a beautiful polyamory moment.
The next day, Master Pravus went out to the store and he called me from the car. He started swearing into the phone:
“nufhuefnjdndjfguasheoijdsjncdjcbesu,” he said!
“…Master?” I asked super soft, “Are you OK?” It was obvious he hit his injury on something. I heard him straighten up a little.
“Kitty? Don’t cry. I’m fine. It’s fine. I’m fine.” (I knew he wasn’t fine at all, but I didn’t cry.)
Master Pravus got home, and I started in on my blogging. Lately, I’ve been blogging with my bink in. (Not always) but generally because if I don’t I bite my nails. I started to blog and asked for my bink. (As opposed to Master Pravus just wanting to put me in a headspace.) He came over, put my bink in my mouth, and I started crying. (I know, I know. Stop crying Kitty. I can’t! It’s innate! >.>) But, it wasn’t just the bink. It was the way he held me after he clipped it on and softly slipped it in. And he whispered to my ear:
“It’s OK Kitty, I know you don’t do well when I get hurt. I’m fine. I promise. Thanks for taking care of me.”
So. Of course I was going to cry. But I’m fine now! And he’s fine now! (No, he isn’t!) But we’ll be fine. It’s not a mortal wound. We’ll get him in to see the doctor as soon as possible. I’m glad we’re all looking after each other. I love him so much. And he’s right, I don’t do well when he gets hurt. Not unless I know exactly how to help.