Hatchetfield Stories

Turn Off The Lights

This is the story where I finally give in and write Paul Matthews as an autistic character :)

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Injury
-Blood
-Medical stuff
-Needles
-Mild panic attacks

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"Okay..." Paul mumbled. "Can you stand?"

"Paul, have you seen my leg?"

"Right... So what now?" His hands hovered over Emma's wounded thigh.

"We have to get out of here, get to safety, and, you know... fix this," Emma said, vaguely gesturing at her leg. She was about to say something else, but she was cut off by a wet couch. "Oh..." she mumbled, wiping some blood away from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Oh, Emma... I think I could carry you to my house, it's not far from here."

"We should go back to the professor's bunker. They should be gone by now, and it's safe there." Paul nodded as she spoke. "And he has a concerning amount of medical equipment."

"Okay! Let's go."

Emma bit back a scream as he lifted her into his arms, making sure that the metal bar sticking from both sides of her leg wasn't touching anything.

"Are you okay?" Paul asked, concern clear in his eyes.

"I'm fine, just- Fuck! -keep walking. That way." Emma pointed in the direction of the bunker, and she could even see the tall gates in the distance. She had never been religious, but right now she was praying to every god she could think of that the aliens were gone.

Paul carried her through the gates and stopped at the keypad, letting Emma put in the code. 'Thank God he told me the code,' she thought as the gates closed with a loud clank.

Emma had been to the professor's house many times, but the inside never failed to impress her. She gave Paul directions to the lab, and soon she was sitting on the old couch in the corner of the room.

She wiped her hands clean on the fabric of the couch. Hidgens wouldn't mind, seeing he was dead.

After a minute of searching, Paul found the first aid kit. He dragged a table towards Emma and put the box down, opening it and looking through the supplies. "I don't know what to do," Paul admitted.

"Just- I- We'll have to pull it out first," Emma mumbled, the thought nauseating her.

"Okay... Okay." Paul crouched down next to her, handing her a small towel. "Bite down on this. Try not to move."

Emma nodded, forcing the fabric between her gritted teeth, wincing as Paul put his hand next to the injury to hold her leg still. He apologized as his fingers closed around the pipe.

The stabbing pain that followed made Emma's body tense. Her right leg kicked out and her hands tried to push Paul away, who let her go as soon as the rebar was out of her leg, and she tried to protectively pull her legs towards her, screaming in pain as she did. The towel fell out of her mouth, and her cries filled the room.

"Shhhh..." Paul hushed, putting his bloody hand on her shoulder, staining her clothes. Emma tried to steady her breath, grabbing Paul's shoulder and squeezing it tightly.

Paul placed his hand over hers, taking it and letting her squeeze his hand instead. He gave a soft squeeze back, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

He cupped her cheek with his free hand. "The worst part's over."

Once Emma calmed down a few moments later, Paul stood up, looking through the supplies again. "What now?"

"Clean the wound and then stitch it up."

Paul nodded. "I've never done that before," he said, grabbing a bottle of disinfectant.

"I don't think it's much different than fixing a hole in a pair of jeans. Just a bit more sticky and messy." She chuckled anxiously, looking anywhere but at her leg.

"This will sting a bit, okay?" Paul apologized as he unscrewed the lid of the bottle and gently moved her leg so he could reach the inside of her thigh. I any other circumstance, Emma would've found the position they were in awkward or embarrassing, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

The cold but burning feeling made her bite back a whimper. Paul shot her an apologizing smile but her eyes were squeezed shut. Her nails dug into the couch as Paul cleaned the other side of the wound. She opened her eyes again as she heard the sound of the bottle being put back in the box.

Paul's hands were shaking as he threaded the needle, but he forced them to stop as he walked back to Emma. He grabbed her shoulder and gently pushed her, guiding her to lie down, before helping her legs onto the couch too.

He apologized again, and Emma closed her eyes in anticipation. She sucked in a shaky breath to gritted teeth as the needle pierced the skin, clenching her fists as he pulled the string through her flesh.

A few minutes that felt like hours, a lot of pain, and a ton of swearing later, Paul cut the string of the second wound. He grabbed a roll of bandages, and wrapped it around her thigh tightly.

When he was done, Emma sat up again. "God, I need some fucking painkillers."

"Where does he keep those?" Paul asked, standing up and wiping his hands clean.

"I think in the cabinet above the desk."

Paul opened the door, looking at the labels of various boxes and bottles. "I found some expired paracetamol for kids and morphine. The rest could be painkillers too, but I don't recognize any of the fancy names."

Emma nodded. "I don't know if we should mess around with strong medication like that, but I'll take the morphine," she said, not thinking about why her professor would have morphine lying around.

"Okay. One problem though..." He turned around, holding a small vial. "I know what happed earlier, so I don't know if you..."

His voice faded away as Emma's eyes fell on what he was holding, the color that was left in her face draining away as she desperately tried not to think about what happened just a few hours earlier, in this exact room. "Okay..." she mumbled. For a moment she hesitated, thinking about if it was worth it, but the pain in her leg quickly made her come to a decision. "Okay. I can do that."

She grabbed the vial and the syringe with shaking hands, uncapping it and sticking the needle into the vial. She took a shaky breath as the liquid slowly made its way into the syringe.

"Your hands are shaking," Paul stated.

"No shit," Emma replied, focusing on filling the syringe and trying to ignore her racing heart.

Paul gently placed his hands over hers, taking the syringe. "Let me do it."

Emma nodded, fidgeting with her bow as Paul filled the syringe. "I... I'm just scared. What professor Hidgens did to me... I feel betrayed. It just scared me."

"I know. But it's okay. We're safe now," Paul said, putting the vial away and grabbing an alcohol wipe. "Don't look."

Emma looked away, focusing on trying to read the titles of the books on the shelf on the other side of the room in a failed attempt to distract herself. She flinched, pulling her arm away as Paul tried to disinfect her skin.

Paul grabbed Emma's arm, gently rubbing circles into the skin as Emma chuckled nervously, biting the nails of her free hand. "I'm sorry, it's pathetic. I just-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he assured her, throwing the alcohol wipe away. "On the count of three, okay?"

Emma nodded again, closing her eyes and sinking into the couch. Her whole body tensed in response to the needle breaking through the skin. "Shhh..." Paul hushed, still rubbing her skin with his free hand, calming her down as the painkillers were released into her body.

She couldn't stop the tears from falling, even as Paul put the syringe down and grabbed her shoulders. "Hey, Emma, shhh..." Emma opened her eyes, looking at him through her tears. "That's good, look at me. Take a deep breath, okay? It's over." He demonstrated a deep inhale, followed by a long exhale. Emma managed to follow his example the second time, taking in a shaky breath.

Paul smiled at her, giving a shoulder a soft squeeze. "Lie down, okay? I'll see if I can find a blanket so you can sleep a bit more comfortably."

Emma nodded, letting Paul guide her down, grabbing a pillow and carefully lifting her head up so he could place it under her head. Once he made sure she was comfortable, Paul left the room in search of a blanket. Emma closed her eyes as the pain in her leg slowly turned into a dull ache.

Who knows how long they'll have to stay here.
Who knows if they'll get rescued in time before Emma's wounds get infected.
Who knows if they'll make it out.

But right now they were safe, protected by the tall gates surrounding the property.

Paul came back a minute later, placing the blanket he found over Emma's small body.

"I'm going to take a quick shower. Try to get some sleep."

Emma nodded, taking in the warmth of the blanket as she listened to Paul's footsteps and the door closing.

"Alexa, turn off the lights."