Down the Road [Skitter/Sam]

Skitter had gone ahead as she often did, clamoring through wreckage looking for anything of interest It's how she often found the most interesting things, hidden, buried, where no one else looked. A noise drew her attention and she drew closer to the large piece of metal, peering around it to stare at Junkrat where he rested. She sat quietly and stared for a long moment, then her head disappeared again.

It took about ten more minutes for heavier footsteps to sound, this time coming up around in front of the piece of metal. Sam stood in front of Junkrat, pulling aside his mask. "Well, I'll be damned." He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he looked down. "I swear, every time I run into you, boy, you've come up with new and interestin' ways to fuck yourself up." He shook his head, before pulling a pack out of his jacket.

"Here, hold this." He handed it to Skitter before kneeling down. "Lemme see..." He indicated the wound on his side.

He was starting to feel weaker, he'd suffered plenty of injuries before, but this was different, and he didn't have the proper supplies to really treat it. When he heard movement he tried his best to shrink back against his hiding place before flinching when the head poked around. There was something deeply familiar about the figure, and after a moment the realization hit him, "a-ah Skitter?" His memory had gone to the pits since the last time he'd seen this pair, but if he remember right, where Skitter was.

"Sam...Yew ugly bastard..." His tone was affectionate and he laughed, wincing at the effort, "understatement..." He breathed through his teeth and closed his eyes, "got me ass jumped...Flayed me open like a fuckin' greedy dingo...Assholes." He swallowed and pulled his hand away from the wound, looking down at it with a worried look, "wont stop bleedin..." His voice was tight with worry and pain.

"Well, you ain't gotten any smarter, if you're out wanderin' around out here alone bein' a fucking target." He shook his head, but there was a note of fondness under the bite of the words. "Thought I taught you better'n that."

He reached over for the pack which Skitter handed back, then stood aside, watching with her arms over her chest. He opened up the pack, all first aide supplies. He wasn't a doctor or even really a medic with any sort of real training, but living out here this long he'd picked up a few things. His own expression grew concerned as he looked at the wound, it was fairly severe and more than he could fix with what he had here, but he could at least patch him up enough to get him back to the compound.

"You're not gonna like this part." Hint of apology in his voice as he started to clean up the wound enough to bandage it up.

Junkrat couldn't help but laugh at that, wincing again and sighing, "yeh well, thas' wot 'appens when yew suffer more head trauma 'n you kin count on yer fingers an' toes..." He was right of course, being out here alone and relatively unarmed, but he had always been impulsive. He chuckled and looked down, "yeh well...Good decisions ain't been my best feature as of late."

He was beyond thankful to see that the pack he'd pulled out was full of first aid kit, "ha! savin' me ass again, eh Sam?" His own eyes grew worried when he saw the concerned look on the man's face, tilting his head, "it bad? Fucker caught me good...Some kinda serrated thing..." He could tell it was serrated because it'd hurt like fuck. He flinched and hissed softly when the man began to clean the wound, looking down at it and feeling a bit ill, it did look pretty gnarly, "bandages ain't gonna fix this long..." He'd sounded fairly confident before, but he was more than a little worried now.

Serrated. That made sense with what he was looking at. "Not gonna lie, it's a mess." He frowned at the other. "Gonna have to do some piecing and stitching back together, but bandages will hold ya together long enough to get you back to the compound."

He started wrapping the wound as he went. "You're gonna have a bit of a rough patch, but I'm pretty sure nothin' can actually kill ya so give it time and it should be fine." The kid had beat the odds countless times since he'd first met him, a scrappy little kid threatening him with a pocketknife even as he stood on his last legs, starving and irradiated.

Bandaging finished he shifted to stand and help him up at the same time. "Easy...."

Behind him Skitter moved to quickly gather up the first aide supplies left behind, packing them away and adding them into her bag.

He had his hand clenched tight to his pant leg as his wound was cleaned, trying not to make too much noise despite it hurting like hell, "ff-fuck...I was afraid of that." It had been a little over five years since he'd turned his back on the Junkers, his own group had left him sans one arm as a parting gift when he turned his back on them, "they ain't gonna try t'kill me, are they?" There were plenty of people here who wanted him dead, or wanted the bounty on his head.

He shifted to move his arms so it was easier to bandage the wound, chuckling softly at that, "ha! An' it's only gotten 'arder t'do!" He was much more explosive than he'd been back then, "survived losin' me leg an' arm, I'll survive this." He looked between the two as he was helped to his feet, wincing and hanging onto the man, "'ow 'av the two of yew been 'oldin' up?" He couldn't say he was looking forward to spending time in a Junker compound, but he was at least glad it was with these two.

It wasn't to be fun or easy, having him back in the compound with at least a few people who would in fact want him dead, but it was that or leave him to bleed out here. He wasn't too keen on that idea.

"We'll stick ya in the back of the house. Long as you don't start screamin' and carryin' on when I start to fix you it'll probably be a bit until they figure it out. After that...they get to go through me." He would have seen those that had tried to cross Sam in the past. It generally didn't end well...for them.

"Group's gotten a bit smaller. Lost some, picked up some more...but we're doin' alright."

He nodded to Skitter. "Come here and help me here."

She lingered on the edge though, and didn't step over. He gave her a look. "C'mon. Be like that later."

She seemed to visibly huff, but came over to his other side to support him as they walked.

"She's still kinda pissed at you for leaving though." Sam nodded towards Skitter. He was pretty sure she'd understood his reasons for not being around anymore but that didn't stop her from being upset when one of her friends stopped being around.

Junkrat huffed through the pain that moving caused, blowing air through his teeth, which were clenched, "sounds good mate, I think I kin' keep my voice down." He gave a pained laugh and wiggled a metal finger, "I'll bite me finger if I gotta." He was comforted by Sam's promise to keep the others off him, he knew well enough that Sam was the kind of man who could keep good on that word, "yew've always 'ad me back...Thanks mate."

He felt a pang of guilt when he saw how angry Skitter seemed to be, they'd been good friends when he ran with these guys, and he'd left. His voice lost the sarcastic bite and became soft, like it always did with her, "hey mate, I'm sorry I split...They wanted me 'ead on a platter." He put an arm around her shoulder when she came to help him, limping between them, "I got meself into a real mess an' 'ad t'go...But it still weren't fair on yew." He honestly had felt bad, he gave a soft chuckle though and looked at her, "got somethin t'show yew when we get there that might make up fer it." Even if his memory lapses had made his recalling of them fuzzy at best, he still held on to somethings.

Sam only made an acknowledging sound in answer as they started to move forward slowly.

Skitter meanwhile stood a bit stiff under his arm, before offering a bit of a shrug at his apology. The promise of a present brought a pause though, head tilted towards him before some of the tension left her and she leaned in to help better support him.

They were fortunately not that far out from the compound, but it still felt like an agonizingly long time before they made it back to what had once been a sprawling cattle station, but was now a mishmash collection of pieced together buildings and shelters, with the old ranch house at one end. There wasn't much activity at the moment, many of those that lived here either inside avoiding the heat, or out doing whatever it was they did.

They headed for the house, Sam brought him inside and locked the door after him before helping him to the edge of a worn wooden dining table that would have to act as a surgery table for now. He was quick to shed his extra layers and start rolling up his sleeves.

"Here. Start with some'a this." He pulled something out of a cabinet, then handed him a dusty old bottle of strong alcohol before going back to rummaging around and pulling out more supplies he was going to need.

Skitter also took off her extra layers and bags, setting them down in neat order before coming back to the kitchen. She regarded him with a curious look now that she could look fully at him without a mask, brows quirked upwards at him. She looked at the bottle and crinkled up her nose, before looking back up at him again. She looked like she still couldn't decide if she wanted to be annoyed or happy.

The walk to the compound felt agonizing indeed, every step jostled the injury which caused a flinch or a hiss, but he was glad when he felt Skitter relax a tad, good, he hoped she would come to forgive him for being such an ass and bailing on them.

Being back in the compound brought up both good and bad memories, he'd spent a lot of time here, especially when he was younger, it had been where he grew up, living along side men and women three times his age and three times more aggressive. But Sam and Skitter had taken care of him, and of course he'd taken care of himself, he'd always been a hardy kid, the place had grown some, but still looked relatively the same.

He winced as he was led to the table, looking relieved momentarily as he realized he wouldn't have to walk anymore. When Sam offered the bottle, he was more than eager to take it, "Ha! Bit'a liquid courage, eh? Thanks mate." It wouldn't numb the pain, but with any luck it'd lessen it, so he was quick to take a healthy swig of it, shivering as it went down.

When Skitter returned to him he gave her a grin and held a finger up, "I promised yew somethin' t'make up fer leavin'...It ain't much but..." He dug into the small satchel at his hip before pulling out a small pocket knife, "Rememba' this? Same one I threatened yew both with when I was an ankle bita'..." He gave a wide grin before holding it out to her, "yew keep it, okay? I can't stay here ferever...But I 'ope this will make up fer that..." Not only did he have so much left to do away from here, but it wasn't safe, he only hoped she would understand.

Skitter took the knife, turning it over in her hands and studying it with a practiced eye. She remembered that same meeting too and smiled, he'd been tiny and angry and maybe even scared, but he had been happy to see people who could help him. Kind of like she had been. She'd been scared too before, when she had been all alone. She opened the blades and continued to study it, but looked up quickly when a frown when he said he couldn't stay. She didn't want him to go again so quickly. She closed the blade and put it in her pocket and stood studying him with her head tilted to one side. She looked like she wanted to say something, but before she could Sam came back.

He looked between the two, it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to see horrible things, but he still would rather she not have to watch if there were other options.

"Hey, I need you to do something." He turned to her. "You know the room upstairs, where we put Mac after he got shot? Room needs to be cleaned up and the bed made, cause that's where he's goin' when we're done."

She looked between them, then nodded as she turned to go. He waited a minute or two and then turned back. "Alright, let's get this over with."

He helped the other stretch out on the table and started to work, cleaning as much as he could as he went so the whole mess wouldn't end up infected once he closed it up. The would wasn't as deep as he'd feared at first, just torn and ragged, a blade that had been intended to leave as much damage as possible with as little effort as possible. He worked as quickly as he could, piecing back together, stitching here and there. He finally leaned back, hands and table full of blood...but that stop the worst of the bleeding, and it should heal up clean...provided he could convince him to maybe stick around and stay off his feet to rest long enough to not just tear the whole thing open again.

In the time that he'd spent running the Outback with these two, he'd grown especially close to Skitter, despite the two hardly sharing any words, he always felt like she understood perfectly. He smiled and furrowed his brows when she seemed disappointed that he would be leaving, "'ey it--" He turned his head when Sam re-appeared, turning to smile at her, "we'll talk when 'es done, eh cobba'?"

He nodded to Sam when he gave her something else to do, he wasn't particularly keen on making her watch this either, so he appreciated the gesture, "good call..." He took a breath and another long swallow of the alcohol before nodding, "sooner th'better..."

Having the wound cleaned had been bad enough, but when he began sewing it, it was all he could do to keep from crying out, choosing instead to bite down hard on one of his metallic fingers to stifle his noise so that only an agonized hiss could escape. He was breathing hard when he finally pulled away, relaxing his tense body and going limp, "l-lookin' better, mate?" He chanced a glance down at the injury, "I ain't getting nowhere fast like this..." He gave a gentle chuckle as he tried to push himself into a sitting position, "I guess I'm here for a day or so..." Or longer as his injury seemed to imply, but his stupid self definitely figured he would be fine in a day, foolhardy as he was, "I 'ate t'be a burden on yew..." He was putting Sam and Skitter in danger being here after all.

Sam finally sat back, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm to avoid smearing the blood. He hated having to do these sorts of things, he'd had his own guts pieced back together before and knew how bad it could be. And in the back of his mind he worried about screwing up and killing his patient, he was glad to have it done.

"It's better." He nodded. "Not as deep as it looked at first, so that's good." He went back to the cabinets, cleaning off his hands then taking out a small lockbox from a hidden location, most medications were rare, expensive and highly sought after, he kept some hidden and locked away for these sorts of occasions, painkillers, antibiotics and the like. He shook out a couple and brought them back. "Start with these, I'll give ya more later."

He frowned at the suggestion he was a burden on them. "You're not." He said quickly, a bit gruffly. He'd missed having him around, having someone else in his corner. It didn't happen often out here.

"You're gonna need a couple days at least, then we'll see. Whatever other business brought ya back out this way is gonna have to wait a bit."