Karkat was still examining Kanaya, trying to convince himself that she was really going to be okay. The wounds were actually healing, and her breathing was even and normal. Really, there were no signs of poison. But just when he thought that maybe he could let himself relax, he heard an ominous thump from the other room.
"Dave?" Karkat scrambled to his feet and pushed through the door, ignoring the stabbing protests of his right hand where he had accidentally used it to turn the nob. His eyes turned to the floor where Dave was lying. "FUCKING SHITTING FUCK," Karkat yelled eloquently. "I fucking knew you weren't okay Strider you fucking asshole-muncher."
Karkat knelt to the ground and slowly pushed at Dave, rolling him over his good shoulder until he was on his back. Karkat's left fist clenched hard at the sight of all of the blood leaking from Dave's shoulder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Karkat muttered this to himself like a mantra as he tore off his own jacket (he never liked it much anyway) and wrapped it tightly around Dave's shoulder. Within seconds it was soaked through with blood.
Gingerly, Karkat slid an arm under Dave's back and slowly lifted his shoulders so his back was propped up on the nearby couch. A little elevation couldn't hurt. Once the bleeding slowed it would need to be cleaned. For the time being, he applied pressure to Dave's shoulder and hoped as hard as he could that the wound wasn't as bad as it looked.
After a few minutes, Karkat lifted the jacket and winced at what he saw. The bleeding had thankfully slowed considerably, but Dave would definitely need stitches. Karkat retied the jacket to keep some pressure on it while he got up (he wobbled and nearly fell over from the remnants of his adrenaline, lingering hunger, and exhaustion from the fight) and made his way to Kanaya's bathroom to look for more supplies. He probably wouldn't be able to wash the cut cleanly with water until Dave woke up, but hopefully Kanaya would have some antibiotic cream and bandages. It didn't take long to locate a first aid kit under her sink, and he hurriedly carried it back out to where he'd left Dave.
Karkat's lips pressed into a thin line. Dave's skin looked ashen, and blood was getting all over the couch and the floor. Karkat shook himself and went back to Dave's side, carefully removing the jacket again and using it to wipe up a bit of the blood before applying the ointment and using the gauze to wrap it up tightly again. It was definitely still bleeding, but Karkat didn't know how to administer stitches so this was the best he could do for now. He wanted to check on Kanaya again, but with her accelerated healing and no evidence of poison, Dave was almost certainly in more danger. So Karkat stayed with him and monitored the wound, changing the bandages when the first ones bled through.
"If you die on me, I'll fucking kill you, Strider," mumbled Karkat, voice exhausted and strained.
GODDAMMIT
"Dave?" Karkat scrambled to his feet and pushed through the door, ignoring the stabbing protests of his right hand where he had accidentally used it to turn the nob. His eyes turned to the floor where Dave was lying. "FUCKING SHITTING FUCK," Karkat yelled eloquently. "I fucking knew you weren't okay Strider you fucking asshole-muncher."
Karkat knelt to the ground and slowly pushed at Dave, rolling him over his good shoulder until he was on his back. Karkat's left fist clenched hard at the sight of all of the blood leaking from Dave's shoulder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Karkat muttered this to himself like a mantra as he tore off his own jacket (he never liked it much anyway) and wrapped it tightly around Dave's shoulder. Within seconds it was soaked through with blood.
Gingerly, Karkat slid an arm under Dave's back and slowly lifted his shoulders so his back was propped up on the nearby couch. A little elevation couldn't hurt. Once the bleeding slowed it would need to be cleaned. For the time being, he applied pressure to Dave's shoulder and hoped as hard as he could that the wound wasn't as bad as it looked.
After a few minutes, Karkat lifted the jacket and winced at what he saw. The bleeding had thankfully slowed considerably, but Dave would definitely need stitches. Karkat retied the jacket to keep some pressure on it while he got up (he wobbled and nearly fell over from the remnants of his adrenaline, lingering hunger, and exhaustion from the fight) and made his way to Kanaya's bathroom to look for more supplies. He probably wouldn't be able to wash the cut cleanly with water until Dave woke up, but hopefully Kanaya would have some antibiotic cream and bandages. It didn't take long to locate a first aid kit under her sink, and he hurriedly carried it back out to where he'd left Dave.
Karkat's lips pressed into a thin line. Dave's skin looked ashen, and blood was getting all over the couch and the floor. Karkat shook himself and went back to Dave's side, carefully removing the jacket again and using it to wipe up a bit of the blood before applying the ointment and using the gauze to wrap it up tightly again. It was definitely still bleeding, but Karkat didn't know how to administer stitches so this was the best he could do for now. He wanted to check on Kanaya again, but with her accelerated healing and no evidence of poison, Dave was almost certainly in more danger. So Karkat stayed with him and monitored the wound, changing the bandages when the first ones bled through.
"If you die on me, I'll fucking kill you, Strider," mumbled Karkat, voice exhausted and strained.