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Jackson It was an unseasonably chilly day in the streets of Shantytown. The wind was ripping through the streets with ferocity, and the light of the sun was often obscured by passing clouds as it attempted to warm the town with it's rays. Then again, it might not have really been all that cold to begin with. As far as this man knew, he could've just lost a lot more blood than originally thought.
Jack half-walked, half-stumbled his way toward the Shantytown clinic with a grimace of pain clinging to his bedraggled features. He'd been kidding himself when he said this damn wound would heal on it's own-- he thought his amateur field dressing would do the trick well enough, but he knew he'd been kidding himself by the third time he'd changed the bloody pressure bandage he'd clumsilly applied to the right side of his abs. Now, his stomach felt like a coiled pile of white-hot embers, and he struggled to maintain a calm facade as he stumbled toward the shadow of the clinic. Every subtle twist of his torso was enough to send shockwaves of burning pain through his body, and his breaths came to him in short gasps by the time he'd been close enough to the building to lean on it for support. The edges of his vision became hazy with the exertion of his journey, and he paused for a moment to gather his breath as he leaned against the building, glasses fixed on the doors mere feet away from him. Just.. One more minute's rest would do the trick.
Before he had time to take that rest, though, none other than Tibbie gains appeared from behind him, nonchalantly taking his right arm and throwing it over her shoulders to give him a little more support. He sucked in a sharp breath, preparing to tell her that he didn't need the help, but she cut him off faster than he could take a single step.
"Don' even think about it. Yer' gut smells like ass an' ya' look like yer' about ta' piss yerself, just let lil ol' Tibbs carry 'yer ass to get that boo-boo kissed." Though her trademark chipper tone complimented her words, Jack could sense that it wasn't a request he'd been given, but an order. Relenting, Jack gave the woman a defeated nod, and allowed her to help him stumble into the clinic in search of attention. When the two of them reached one of the cots that had been braced against the entrance wall, Tibbie helped Jack onto it with as much effort as she was capable of giving. It wasn't his most graceful moment, but the deputy managed to put aside the pain for a brief instant to make himself a little more comfortable on the cot.
"Thanks Tibbs. I appreciate it."
Conway The Sheriff of Roswell and the family-man farmer has been taking up shifts in the clinic as a 'doctor' of sorts, just something to occupy his free time. He's a good veterinarian, humans can't be too different than animals.. right? Anywho, Conway is making his rounds on the floor with his clipboard in hand and a pen behind his ear. He's sporting a fresh white labcoat but a mismatched blue and white bloody glove.

God, who the fuck shit themselves? Conway looks around the rag-tag group of drunk bums who hurt themselves in the lobby and then notices Deputy Jackson being carried in with the assistance of Tibbie. He scans him up and down just for a second, noticing the visible wound on the side of his abdomen. "Nurse, get a chair!" A trauma nurse rushes to the front with a rusty wheelchair, locking the wheels infront of Jackson. Conway comes around the side of the chair and places his head underneath his armpit, trying to get him to sit down gently in it. "Deputy Jackson, you smell like a turd."
Jackson When Jack decided to go to the medical clinic, he didn't expect to see the sheriff of Roswell approaching him in a lab coat. The man wasn't complaining-- he'd had dealings with Conway in the past, and as far as Jack was concerned, if he could trust him in the scrapyard, he could trust him here. He only hoped his skills as a doctor were half as good as his skills as a farmer and sheriff. As the man helped him into the wheelchair, he cooperated easily, shifting his body into the rusty wheelchair with a groan of effort and a roll of his eyes.
" "You'd smell like shit too if you had an infected gunshot wound. Hell man, it's not like I've had access to running water in the last week. Been running myself ragged." The deputy's voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, and his words were framed with tremors of pain and exertion. He was even more pale than usual, and his pressure dressing seemed to be a darker stain of red than it'd been when he started his walk down here. With a shaky sigh, Jack spoke up again.
"Enclave vertibird decided to use me as target practice a few days back, just haven't had time to deal with it. Figured I'd gotten the round out, but it probably fragmented or some shit. I don't have the best luck."
Tibbie      The short gal waves to Conway a she's now free to do so without Jackson heaved onto her. "Looks like we aint seen enough of each other today Boss!" Tibbie comments with a chuckle and lingers by Jackson. She'd gotten her chores done and just waiting for dinnertime to get back to the farm, so she took a trip to Shantytown to bring some lunch to her mom, such a sweetheart that Tibbie is!

She's back to her usual tomgirl attire but her hair's been left untouched since the market night event prior. "Ooo, can I watch? I aint gonna hurl or nothing, I seen Davey'sguts so much I oughta be a doctor too by now!" She asks Conway endearingly.
Conway Conway listens to Jackson as he removes his dirty gloves, stuffing them into his labcoat pockets. He's not wanting to further any pre-existing infection that Jackson might have in his wounds. "Nurse, roll him to Exam Room 1." He places his hand on Jackson's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're going to need emergency surgery. But you'll be alright." He takes his callous hand off of Jackson's shoulder, following behind the nurse who wheels him into the exam room, which also doubles as an operating room. Maybe not the most sterile conditions but the place is clean enough.

Conway wastes no time scrubbing in, starting to cover his hands in iodine from a pump. Afterwards, he places his gloves on his brown hands, stretching them as far as he can over his wrist bone. Another nurse comes into the room and shifts him onto a bed covered in clean paper sheeting. "You may leave ladies, thank you." The nurses nod and take their exit, going to deal with the next smelly guy. "You've just got pain in your abdomen, yeah?" He walks to the side of the bed, removing his trauma shears from his lower labcoat pocket. He starts to cut down the length of Jackson's jeans and his shirt, removing them.
Jackson Jack was thankful to see that Conway was taking his job seriously. He'd had a few odd experiences in this place, and this wouldn't have been the greatest time to be having one of them. He attempted to relax as the nurse rolled him into the first exam room, but sighed in annoyance at the indication he'd be needing emergency surgery. It wasn't an unexpected thing, he'd had plenty of shrapnel, bullets, and god-knows what else yanked out of him. He just could never seem to get used to it. As he was moved onto the cot, he groaned and gasped in obvious pain, but did his best to bite down on his lip and keep himself from looking like a coward. He'd been shot plenty-- just not by anything quite that sizeable. It was a hell of a wound.
"Yeah, burning. Sharp pains when I make sudden movements. Don't think it tore up my liver or anything though, or i'd already be dead. Don't take my word for it though. You're the doctor, I'm a scientist that doesn't specialize in anatomy." For once in his life, he wished he would just know when to shut the fuck up. Every spoken word was a dagger of white-hot agony being twisted in his stomach, but he just loved to punish himself. Somewhere off in his pain-riddled subconscious, he idly mused that he should've taken care of this the day that it happened, and he wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. That aside, he became a bit startled when the doc started to cut through his clothing.
"Shit man, you could've just asked me to strip." He croaked out, leaning up after the man finished to toss his duster to the nearest chair.
"You know how hard it is to find a clean white shirt?"
Tibbie     Tibbie looks off to the nurses as they leave, assuming Conway was only addressing them, because what operation wouldn't be complete without some southern charm! "phew, it's even worse now!" She fans her nose and then pinches it.

"I think pops' got some shirts left over we can snag on yer way home!" she assures Jack and now rambles about how her infamous friend Davey had a similar wound, though he claimed it was from an alien probe gone wrong and went on even more about how this abduction went.
Conway Conway shakes his head, peeling off the bloody shirt from Jackson's torso. He strips him completely down to his underwear so he can check his entire body for injuries. Conway gags, turning his head away once the smell lingers up his nose. He walks away from Jackson's bedside and opens up the overhead cabinets, pulling out a surgical cloth mask. He ties it around his face, pulling it up over his nose.

Conway returns to Jackson's side, reassuring him. "Pops has more shirts, just like 'Tib said." He reaches towards the bloody dressing Jackson holds on his side, attempting to take it from Jackson's grasp and move it away, setting the bloody dressing down on a surgical steel tray nearby. He grabs a pen light from his breast pocket, shining it into the wound to see how bad it's bleeding, if there's any clotting, any gangrene forming, etc.

Doctor Conway walks back towards his drawers, pulling one out. He grabs a syringe that's pre-packaged in sterile plastic, removing it. He pulls off the cap, it's a very large needle. It kind of resembles an Epi-Pen but on it reads 'CALMEX 80MG XR'. He walks back over to Jackson, injecting it into his shoulder where there's alot of muscle to absorb the serum. "Just try and relax, think happy thoughts."
Jackson Jack really wasn't all that concerned about his shirt. It was just the first thing he could latch on to other than the searing pain lancing through his body. That being said, listening to Tibbie's ramblings about this Davey fellow did well to distract him. Living where they did, it certainly wasn't the first time he'd heard anything about aliens, but it was definitely the first time he'd heard about something so insane as a probe. He didn't want to touch that one with a ten-foot pole. Before he knew it was coming, he glanced toward Conway after the doctor removed his dressing and inspected his wound, only to watch as the sizeable needle dug into the muscle of his shoulder. He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it immediatly as he felt a rush of cold radiating outward from his shoulder. It wasn't instantaneous by any means, but the potent tranquilizer was quick acting. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he felt the drug pulling on the edges of his awareness, but didn't resist it's pull as it did it's work in calming and sedating him. He wouldn't let himself lose consciousness completely, but he wasn't about to try to fight the effects of this drug for any reason whatsoever. Anything was better than the pain.
"I'd reeeeeeeeaaally like tuhhava drink withthis Davey guy. Sounds like 'e gets 'round alot." The deputy certainly sounded a fair bit more relaxed than he did before, and seemed to be talking with far less effort. That being said, understanding him through the dazed slur probably took a little work. He sounded like he'd just gone ten rounds with a super mutant.
Tibbie     Tibbie comes back to reality after her tall tale's finished and takes this rare opportunity to poke Jacks' face, why not! She booped him right on his nose as if it would finally turn the groggy man fully unconscious, "Boop! Give'm some more Boss, he aint off yet! And yeah Jack, Davey's the best, you oughta meet'm soon!" she added and chuckles. Tibbie then peers in at the mess that is Jack's gut, "Sheesh! This'll be some work too!" She adds.
Conway Conway watches Tibbie boop Jackson, raising the dirty needle overhead like he's going to stab her. "Stop booping my patients, woman!" He tosses the used needle and the cap into a SHARPS container mounted on the wall. He doesn't recap it, as doctors shouldn't. Don't want to stick yourself! Conway shines his pen light back inside the open cavity of Jackson's wound, "I don't want him to be fully out. Only enough so his nerve endings aren't firing and making him feel pain while I'm working."

Conway picks up his pair of forceps and spreaders off of the tray. He uses the spreaders to spread open the wound, placing his penlight into his mouth so he can have his hands free but also see inside the cavity. He slowly slides his forceps inside the open abdominal wound, checking for any perforations in the stomach or intestines that might be leaking intestinal bacteria. He steps away for a moment to grab a syringe from the drawer, unpackaging it. He reaches into a mini fridge in the corner, pulling out a bag of saline used for wound irrigation. He sucks some up into the chamber of the syringe, moving back over to Jackson to squirt the saline inside the wound and clean it out.
Jackson Tibbie's boop brought him briefly back into awareness for a moment, and when he looked up toward her to retaliate, he saw three shimmering Tibbies, all speaking to Conway in an echoey, warbling, absolutely incomprehensible speech pattern. It didn't even sound like english.
"What? How the hell are you even doing that?" Suddenly, the only emotion evident on the deputy's previously pained expression was confusion. He lifted his arm to counter-boop, but basically just ended up mindlessly swatting open air before returning his arm to his side. He was so focused on deciphering the hazy representation of his vision whilst under the effects of the chem that he didn't even notice Conway digging around inside of his wound. He felt numb and tingly.
"I don't even know where the hell I am anymore."
Tibbie      Bending her elbows and hands up in surrender, Tibbie bleps her tongue out in protest. "Aww C'mon DocBoss, I aint hurtin! Fiiiine." she says playfully, but gives up. When she sees Conway get to work and Jackson trying to druggy retaliate she smirks down at Jack "Better luck next time! Ooo, can I do a squirt? Pleeease? It aint look too hard!" She teases Jack and begs Conway.
Conway Conway reaches out, grabbing Tibbie by her bicep. He pulls her over towards Jackson's side where he's irrigating the wound. He opens her palm and places the syringe inside, "Keep squirting that into the cavity, clean'er out." He steps away while Tibbie handles that portion of the work, walking towards the cabinets. He removes a small suture kit from the cabinet, placing it on the nearby tray. He opens the suture kit and takes out a long hooked needle shaped like a 'c'. He grabs the needle in his bloody forceps, threading biodegradable suture through. He ties it off, ready to start stitching.

Conway steps back towards the side of Jackson, reaching his fingers inside the cavity to feel around for any bullet lodged inside him. After finding some fragmentation of one, he tosses it on the tray. Conway pushes Tibbie's wrist away a little, "That should be enough saline." He starts to poke the needle through his skin, passing it through the skin and tissue, and then out the other end. He repeats this process until his wound is stitched shut, tying several surgeon knots.
Jackson As Conway really got to work on taking care of his wound, Jack started to feel the echoes of it's effects. Though it was mostly a mixture of pressure and pulling sensations, for the most part, it wasn't particularly uncomfortable or painful. Aside from the wound itself being spread open, of course. He did his best to maintain stability and not to move around much to reduce the possibility of mistakes, but he was confident in the doctor's abilities. He allowed his eyes to close for the briefest instant, and when they opened again, he noticed that rather than Conway doing the doctoring, Tibbie, who'd reformed into a singular being, was pressing a syringe into his wound.
"Uhh.. Shouldn't he be-" He was cut off as Conway pulled Tibbie away, and began diggin around in his wound once again. He removed what Jackson believed to be one of the fragmented portions of the 5MM round that had caused him so much grief, then, after a careful appraisal of the wound, retrieved a suture kit and slowly tied him back together. To Jack, this was always the most irritating part of the experience. He was thankfully numb to the majority of sensation, but idly fidgeted with his hands and tightened his jaw as he felt his flesh being slowly connected back together. It was never, ever a comfortable experience.
Tibbie      "Thanks Boss! I never did that before!" She thanks Conway and watches with interest as he finishes up. "Yer gonna live Jack!" Tibbie congratulates Jack, this time refraining from boops and pats as to not upset both of the men again. "I wonder what that strings made of, one time Davey used copper wire to stich up andâ¦." She goes on again about the stupidity of copper stitches and how Davey needed even more attention and suffered more repercussions afterwards.
Conway Conway looks towards Tibbie while removing his gloves surgeon style, folding them inside out on eachother. He tosses them into the wastebin, rewashing his bare hands underneath a crude sink that draws water from a bucket. "The clinic is lucky enough to have biodegradable suture, which is called 'gut suture'.. oddly enough." He throws the suture needle away aswell as any remaining thread attached to it. He closes the suture kit, stowing it back away in the cabinet. "It's best used for the mouth or the vagina, though. Places with bacteria. And his guts are great for it." Conway grabs his clipboard near the sink, picking it back up. He charts out his information about Jackson and what procedures were performed. "You'll see your stitches fading away in about six weeks, shouldn't leave a huge scar." He grabs some gauze out of a cardboard box, placing it on Jackson's stitches. He secures it onto his skin with some medical transpore tape.
Jackson Briefly and hazily listening to the doctor's explanation after he finished the procedure, Jack leaned up and gave the man a nod in the affirmative. He was still feeling a little woozy from the calmex, but he'd process it out of his system sooner than later. Without wasting a second, he slowly eased himself up to a sitting position, and worked his way out of the bed with Tibbie's assistance. Drugged up as he was, he was still focused enough to remember his priorities. He listened closely to Conway's explanation of his recovery, but as he did so, he hobbled over to that suture kit he'd used to stitch him up, and quickly opened it, grabbed a needle and some thicker wire, and made a hasty repair job on his jeans. That way, he wouldn't need to be walking back home in his briefs. After doing so, he slid the jeans back on slowly, then moved back over to his duster and slung it over his shoulders. The shirt was the least of his concerns-- though he made a big deal about it, the truth was that he had around five or six more just hanging around his closet back in Mojave. As he gathered the rest of his things, he looked toward conway again, digging through his duster for a handful of caps. He handed them over to the man for his services, and spoke in a significantly less drowsy voice.
"Thanks a bunch, Conway. You're a real savior. Anything else I should watch out for?"
Conway Conway takes a step back and leans against the counter while Jackson gets to his feet and throws an arm around Tibbie. "Yeah, watch out for bullets." He smirks slyly and opens the examination room door for Jackson to exit. "You have yourself a good day, deputy."
Jackson As the duo stumbled over toward the door, Jack gave Conway a genuine smile, and gave the man a firm shake of the hand.
"You too, Sheriff. Keep up the good work." And at that, they left the medical clinic, destined for a place to rest and recover.