The Hero's New Seamstress

Na Na Na Na Trash Man!

I wonder when my life went down the shitter.

Maybe it was when I left home to make a life in the city.

Maybe it was when I abandoned my scholarship to become a seamstress of all things. Everybody knows that artists can't pay the bills.

Or maybe it was when I found a superhero passed out in the dumpster out back.

Okay. Priorities, me. Check if he's alive before you freak out.

The hero was covered in cuts and burns. He was wearing a blood-orange hoodie (covered in scratches with a sleeve burned to a crisp), a blue eye mask (that was falling off), and neon green hair. Well that was a combination.

Focus.

I dropped the trash bags that I was about to throw into the bin, and attempted to lift the man up and out of the dumpster. I am mostly successful, considering that I drop him almost immediately afterward. At least it wasn't that far of a drop.

I put the trash into the dumpster (Mission complete!) and picked up the man in a bridal carry. At least my apartment has an elevator, and neither of my roommates were home (both were on their honeymoon). They were both probably out and about, doing what normal people do. And here you have me, dragging an unconscious and obviously injured man out of an elevator into my living room.

"Do I call 911?" I say out loud, after setting him on the couch and stepping away. "I mean, does he need a hospital? He does, duh, but is there a way to get him to one without outing him?" Probably not. "Okay, med kit it is." He was only minorly burned right? And just a few scrapes. All he needed was some antiseptic, burn cream, and bandages. I hoped.

I examined the hero. His name was Jackieman or something. I was new to town, and I hadn't remembered the name of the local superhero. I had to cut his shirt off to get to his wounds. There were several cuts (most of them not too deep), two places that needed stitches, and a lot of his left arm was burned.

I applied a large amount of burn cream to the arm. Spraying antiseptic spray onto the cuts and scrapes, I double check that the other wounds don't need stitching. I pulled out a roll of bandages to cover most of Jackieman's torso, saving the stitches for last (I'm a wimp I know).

I rooted around the kit for a lighter or some matches to sterilize the needle. When I found none, I moved on to the kitchen. There was always matches in the bottom right drawer next to the stovetop, since the gas burners only lit half the time.

After stitching the hero up, I took his tennis shoes off of him, and covered him in an old blanket. At least only his upper body was injured. I didn't want to take the pants off of an unconscious stranger. He didn't appear to have a concussion at least, which was good. I didn't need to have a brain damaged hero to take care of as well.

I looked over at the burned hoodie that I took off Jackieman. Well, he obviously couldn't afford proper body armor if all he wore was from walmart.

Wait...

Idea.

I needed to get to work.