Treats Morgan

"Jesus Christ," Butters muttered. He'd gotten the improvised bandage off, and found a wound maybe three inches long, but deep, its edges puckered like a little mouth. Blood began drooling from it. "It's like a knife wound, but bigger."
"That's probably because it was done with something like a knife, but bigger."
"A sword?" Butters said. "You've got to be kidding me."
"The Council's old school," I said. "Really, really, really old school."
Butters shook his head. "Wash your hands the way I just did. Do it thorough-takes two or three minutes. Then get a pair of gloves on and get back here. I need an extra pair of hands."
I swallowed. "Uh. Butters, I don't know if I'm the right guy to-"
"Oh bite me, wizard boy," Butters said, his tone annoyed. "You haven't got a moral leg to stand on. If it's okay that I'm not a doctor, it's okay that you aren't a nurse. So wash your freaking hands and help me before we lose him."
I stared at Butters helplessly for a second. Then I got up and washed my freaking hands.
For the record, surgeries aren't pretty. There's a hideous sense of intimately inappropriate exposure to another human being, and it feels something like accidentally walking in on a naked parent. Only there's more gore. Bits are exposed that just shouldn't be out in the open, and they're covered in blood. It's embarrassing, disgusting, and unsettling all at the same time.
"There," Butters said, an infinity later. "Okay, let go. Get your hands out of my way."
"It cut the artery?" I asked.
"Oh, hell no," Butters said. "Whoever stabbed him barely nicked it. Otherwise he'd be dead."
"But it's fixed, right?"
"For some definitions of 'fixed.' Harry, this is meatball surgery of the roughest sort, but the wound should stay closed as long as he doesn't go walking around on it. And he should get looked at by a real doctor soonest." He frowned in concentration. "Just give me a minute to close up here."
"Take all the time you need."
Butters fell silent while he worked, and didn't speak again until after he'd finished sewing the wound closed and covered the site in bandages. Then he turned his attention to the smaller injuries, closing most of them with bandages, suturing a particularly ugly one. He also applied a topical antibiotic to the burn, and carefully covered it in a layer of gauze.
"Okay," Butters said. "I sterilized everything as best I could, but it wouldn't shock me to see an infection anyway. He starts running a fever, or if there's too much swelling, you've got to get him to one of two places-the hospital or the morgue."


Turn Coat Chapter 1, Page 4-5