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B Thank goodness for that patrol that stopped by her shack just before the bandits did. If they hadn't turned around, she'd probably have more than one bullet wound in her body. Serves her right for working in the yard without armour. At least her rifle was close by (as always.)

B turned down their attempts to take her to the clinic. Derk's warning there didn't fall on deaf ears .. though he probably would have preferred her to go and lay on that table, injured as she is, rather than sit on the porch in one of those old rockers with her assault rifle laid across her lap. Currently, she's pressing a rag of some sort, likely not clean to begin with but sterilized by the contents of one of her stills, to a spot just inches above her heart. She's not sure why the bullet lodged there, only that it did, and she's too tired to go back inside and try to find a mirror to help her dig it out herself. Thankfully, the girls are by.

Well. One of them is. Clara wasn't forbidden from leaving this little patch of dirt, so she ran off to get help. That leaves Elizabeth in Pony's care. Thankfully, the babe is easy to handle and is sleeping in a wooden crate right now, wrapped in blankets, inside with Pony who is watching over her.
Derk Getting help is exactly what Clara does and while she's able to run fast when she's got worry in her heart, it's a tired Clara that finds Derk and so she's hoisted onto his back to steady his medical kit while he runs all the way back to find out what had gotten Clara into such a state. Clara will not be gone long, and Derk will be back faster than it had taken the small girl to run all the way to town, leaving all sorts of worry in the man's eyes. As he can be heard hoofing up the walk to the shack, he will crest the rise and see B with her sorry state on the porch.

"B!" Derk cries out and Clara slips from his grasp to settled down upon the ground with his kit in her hand. "What happened?!" He gets out in a rush of breath, quickly looking at the bloodied rag and moving towards her with long measured paces that has him at her side in short order. His hand brushes back the small whisps of hair at the front of her forehead and he feels her skin for its cool clammy state.

Derk moves quickly, beckoning Clara over who brings his bag and sets it down at his feet. A smile for the child and Derk then affixes his attentions back on B, waiting for an answer.
B B isn't completely out of it. Someone hurrying along the path to the lake has her letting the rag fall to her lap as she lifts her rifle to take aim. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? Ha. She's learned. Of course, she does wait until she sees who it is before firing. Could be someone she knows, and what do you know? It actually is.

Warily, the rifle goes back to her lap, slightly sticky from the bloody residue on her hands. "Derk.." she says, forcing out a smile that shows just how injured she is.

Clara scrambles after Derk, feet never leaving his shadow, clutching the precious medical kit to her chest as if someone's life depended on it. "The bandits did it," says she, pointing to the telltale signs of a firefight near the front of the yard. "The patrolmen got 'em, but she wouldn't go into town, not even when they said they'd carry her."

B's gaze shifts to the little brunette, surprised to find her not inside watching the girls. "Clara? What are you doing out here? The baby? Is she alright?" Nothing like worry for her child to get a new mother struggling to her feet, despite the blood still trickling down from the wound on her chest.
Derk Derk's gaze hold's B's for a long time, not trusting his voice, but Clara is there to tell him how things went down and Derk quickly glances towards the girl, "Ah, I see... well that's good of them, and well I can..." he turns to look back at B, "So they got em... and you're still out here, rather than getting some treatment..." there's a pause as he starts to remember their last conversation. A hand reaches out and rests on B's shoulder, not letting her get up. "Clara, please leave the bag and go inside to check on your sisters..." he tells the girl, turning to look at her while his hand squeezes even more firmly upon B's flesh. "Thank you dear."

As Clara looks between the two of them and holds the medical bag she nods, giving B an apologetic look for the briefest of instants before she heads inside, calling from within shortly after, "They're good... can I help now?"

Derk looks to B and the wound and he shakes his head at the woman, "What'd I say about getting shot? You gotta stop that..." he tells her, concern once again lining his eyes. "Alright, let's get you inside so that we can take care of you..." he says, "Clara, dear, can you clear the workbench... and maybe grab that pillow for B's head?" he asks through the door, stopping to help B up, but then he will sweep her off her feet, intending to carry her to the workbench for a proper examination and to not allow her to move around too much and aggravate things further.
B B gives Derk a blank look. "It's not my fault I got shot," she protests because, well, it wasn't, "but I'd rather it was me than the girls. Can you imagine what could have happened if I was inside? With them? The patrol .. probably wouldn't have heard the shots and come back, and it wouldn't be just one bullet you'd find." Unable to get up for the hand on her shoulder, she glances to Clara when she returns, feeling helpless from the vison she painted herself.

Clara nods to Derk and vanishes back inside to do as she's been asked. Really, she's a helpful girl, even when B isn't gushing blood like there's no tomorrow.

With his help, and using the cursed rifle as a cane, she hobbles inside, cross the room, and into the back. The workbench is usually tidy, but now it's cleared of all things save a pillow in a pink case at one end. She blanches at the sight of the bench, wondering how she's going to get up there. No doubt Derk has a plan.
Derk Derk does have a plan, it involved lifting her as he had already done, so when they arrive in the back room, she is lifted the remainder of the way to settle down upon the table with a small smile, though it's clear from the look on his face that he's not all that excited about what's happened. "Raiders inside the perimiter is not a good thing. PRobably cause they have so much of the patrols working on the walls..." he mutters, thinking out loud, but also making mental notes to have words with those in charge later.

Once B is situated and it become clear that the two adults have a bit of an audience, Derk turns to Clara, "Lock the door, dear, then you can come help me." That done and from the rush of feet and clank of bar shortly after, it's clear that they're going to have some privacy for a little bit. The girls and Derk that is. With a sigh, the doctor waits for Clara to return then gestures towards the bag, let's get some guaze and the forceps, as well as that clear bottle and sprayer," he tells Clara, letting her distract herself with the tools as he leans B back, making sure she's comfortable, while pulling up the bottom of her shirt to expose the wound.

"Yes, you are right, though I would rather it be none of you. That would be my heartfelt plea," he tells B, pressing his hands on either side of the wound, "Looks bad, but there's no exit wound, is there?" he asks, his hand slowly reaching under her as he turns her gingerly onto her side. "Nope, which means... your favourite," he explains, setting B back upon her back.
B B wears dresses, every day. It's doubtful she even -owns- a shirt. It's no big deal for him to slide the strap down her shoulder enough to expose her circular wound and still remain more or less modest for their audience. While Clara roots around in the bag, wondering what forceps are, B lays back on the workbench and lets out a little sigh, relaxing into this supported position. "My favourite .." she smiles a thin smile, mostly for Clara's sake, "At least pass me one of those mason jars and let me get it down. That should help numb things up a bit. Drank some earlier, but wanted to keep most of it for the cloth. Burned like .. like you wouldn't believe," she says slightly altering her intended phrasing given the ears in the shack and how thin the walls are. "Maybe we need to move into the city, behind their walls. Not sure I can get the stills there though."
Derk "We could move them there, but where would be the fun in that? No, I'm thinking we do what you suggested earlier, we build a proper space here, make a go of it, get some rooms, some walls, maybe even put up a fence around the perimeter so you can garden in peace?" Derk suggests and then notices Clara having some troubles locating the last thing, "Look like big tongs, tweezers, sort of... here," he moves a hand over to pull the top of the bag further open and then points to the forceps so that Clara will know what he's referring to. That done, he stands closer to B and nods to Clara, "Seems like a reasonable request of her's how about you get one of those jars for her..." he waits till Clara is going and then he pulls out a small chunk of leather, putting it in B's hand, "For biting on, I can only numb it so much."

With that done, he uses the anti-sep and Clara-got material to clean the edges of the wound, a small numbing taking root and leaving her skin tingling.

Clara will return with the alcohol and Derk smiles at the girl, waiting till she's handed over the jar before pulling an empty from the floor and handing it to Clara, "Hold this, we're going to put something into it, stay close," he tells the girl, giving B a moment to swig and ready herself before he goes in with the forceps, pushing the skin apart and examining the wound on the way in for any anterior damage, eventually locating the pullet, unfragmented, but slightly mushroomed, and he puts it in the jar Clara is holding after looking at it for a moment to ensure it is all there. "Welp, I think you got off easy..." he tells B, though he's not really looked at her since he started, and perhaps it's a good thing.
B B's eyes widen just a bit when the leather strap is placed in her hand. "This is serious business then," says she with a small, but determined nod. She accepts the jar from Clara and downs the lot of it in a couple quick gulps. The burn in her throat has nothing on the burn on her chest though. She doesn't so much as wrinkle her nose, let alone make an ick face.

Placing the bit of leather in her mouth, she lays back down and squeezes her eyes shut. Despite her intention not to make any noise, she does. It's more of a choked whimper, caught between her teeth and that leather which'll surely have her teeth marks added to it.

Ping .. the bullet lands in the jar and Clara stares at it, fascinated that such a thing could be in a person. She goes out into the other room to wash it off, and likely keep it forever, leaving the two of them alone again.

Spitting out the leather, B lets out a pained moan. "That's getting off easy?" says she, "God, I don't want to know what the hard way feels like.."
Derk "Well there could be a leg reattachment, and fishing what's left of an appendage out of a Deathclaw's nest could..." he looks over at Carla and her blanching, "Right, well yes, all good and new," he says as he draws the needle and thread out to start cleaning and stitching her wound together, small internal stitches that will dissolve over time and speed the healing. It doesn't take him much time, but she's ending her time on the table with a bandage on her chest and her dress pulled up to cover it. "Well there we go." he explains, "Nothing too it, didn't hurt me a bit," he flashes B a smile now that they're alone, but there's relief in his eyes, "Yes... I think we need to do something around here, sooner, rather than later... this sort of thing... worries me... a lot." Derk admits.

He will help her from the workbench if she's willing, "Now stop getting shot, okay?" he asks her, pleads really, though it could be an order. "Are you and the girls staying here tonight?" He asks, clearly interested.