Allies In Anarchy

"I hear ya up there!"

Atwell yelled from the bottom of the steps to his adopted-daughter, he could hear her foot steps on the hard wood floor above him. "Don't make me come up there!" He called out once more before exhaling deeply. Today had been an awfully long day for Atwell since he didn't get a good nights rest the night before. He had spent most the night rolling in bed as if he was unable to get comfortable.

Now that she was in her room, pretending to be asleep, he was able to get things done around the house. The house constantly smelled like coffee due to the large amount he drank on a daily basis. He brewed a new pot as he cleaned the dishes and laid them out to dry. By the time he finished the dishes the pot of coffee was done. Just two more cups and he was sure to finish his chores.

Atwell allowed the pot of coffee to cool as he did a clean sweep of the house, picking up any trash in need of being thrown out. Once everything was collected he was left with a large bag of garbage. Astonished by how much trash three people could make, Atwell opened the front door of his brightly colored home.

Ah, fresh air.

He inhaled happily before walking down the steps to the pathway leading to the sidewalk. A movement caught his eye just as he made it to the trash bin. Someone was running at an alarming rate and then just stopped.

"Ay." He called to the shadow in the dark. By the body language of this stranger made it seemed like something was wrong with his arm. Atwell dropped the trash into the bin and began approaching the stranger. "Ya a'right?" With what little light came from the street lamp and his porch light, Atwell could see liquid on the hand that was clutched over his arm.

Cocking his head back with raised brows he said, "Woah, mate, you're bleedin." He placed his hand on the stranger's opposite shoulder, there was no way he was going to just leave this man out in the dark, especially with a wound.

"Com'on inside, we'll get that taken care of."

The stranger clearly needed help and Atwell was more than happy to lend a hand to him. He told him the arrow wasn't deep and although it was dark it was rather clear that the arrow was well inside his arm. Atwell didn't ask questions, he didn't need to know this man's story. He was hurt and he'd be damned if he didn't at least clean him up.

The man asked is there was someone else in the house and Atwell looked back at his home. "Jus my daughter but she's in bed. Ya need cleaned up at the least, mate, and I'm not takin no for an answer." Atwell's voice was stern, he couldn't tell how much blood this man had lost.

Atwell helped the stranger into his home, immediately grabbing a rag from the kitchen and placing it around the arrow with pressure. "Take a left." He directed him to the bathroom on the main floor, he didn't want his guest to have to walk up a flight of steps to get to the other bathroom.

"My kits in the bath upstairs, now don't remove that til I get back. If ya bled out in my guest bath you'll have hell to pay." The man gave him a soft smile to make sure he knew he was joking with him before he left him alone.

Atwell walked with haste as he made his way up the stairs and took a quick turn to the right. Down the hall was the door to his room and if you took another immediate turn to the right you'd walk right into the bathroom. He opened the door to the cabinet in his bathroom and grabbed the dark blue container. His attention was taken from the box when he heard the sound of foot steps down the hall.

"What'd I tell ya?" Atwell grabbed the container and shut the cabinet door. "Get ta bed, ya rugrat." He didn't have the time to check on her and give her a stern talking too. No, that would have to wait for a later time because there was something more important to do. The man rushed back down the stairs before grabbing a couple more rags from the kitchen and making his way back to the bathroom where his guest was.

"A'right, here we go."Atwell shut the door behind him and placed the container on the counter. "Let me get a look at this.." He began, using the bathroom lighting to see that the arrow was further in than he had first thought. "Well good news is, I can get it out. Put a little alcohol on it to disinfect it, stitch it up, and wrap it for ya. Bad new is it's gonna hurt like a bitch."

"No wound is pretty, mate." Atwell responded to the stranger. He himself had a few mishaps before but he could honestly say he had never had an arrow in his arm. Atwell grabbed a few gauze and placed them on the side of the tub so he could quickly apply them once getting the arrow out. The stranger asked him what he owed him for helping. He shook his head, "Ya owe me nothin. Maybe tell me how an arrow got in ya arm."

When the man was outside his house Atwell didn't care what he did to deserve the arrow but now that he was in his bathroom, and he knew he would alright, Atwell was curious. "A'right, we gotta get this arrow out before ya lose too much blood." He placed his hand on the man's shoulder and got in position to remove the arrow. "You can tell me the story after we get this thing out. Ya ready?"