Editing Bleeding Out (Warhammer High) (section)

===Making Things===

Her hair was in her eyes again.  Farah tugged her headband loose and brushed the offending lock of platinum blonde aside before retying it.  Her metal hands felt uncomfortably hot to the skin of her forehead, and she sank them into the bucket of water next to the little forge in her basement.  Her father glanced over from his own station, which featured a microsolderer instead of a heating element today.  “Careful, Farah.”

“Yeah, I know, Dad,” Farah muttered.  “Do you need coil?”

“No, I have one.”  Ferrus paused his work to look harder at what his daughter was crafting.  “What exactly are you working on over there?”

“A present for Morticia,” Farah said.  She gestured at a cooling block of metal on the table next to her.  “I already made one for Kelly.”

“I see.  What do you have in mind?” Ferrus asked.

“Well, for Morticia, I thought I’d just do something like…this,” she said, pressing a tiny line of copper against the semi-molten steel in her hands.  “A little get-well.”

Ferrus stared.  “…Is that an embossed inhaler cozy?” he asked after a moment’s scrutiny.

“Maaaybe,” Farah said coyly, gently kneading the copper coil around the outside of the metal case.

“If she has a sense of irony, she’ll love it,” Ferrus said dryly.

The wall-mount vox over his station beeped.  Glancing down to see if his hands were anywhere near cool enough to answer – they weren’t – he called aloud.  “Answer.”  Waiting a moment for the speakerphone to turn on, he then called out again.  “Hello?”

“Hello, Uncle Ferrus, it’s Roberta.”

“Ah, hello, Roberta.”  Ferrus held his hands away from the heating element, letting the extra heat bleed out of his hands.  “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine, but I was wondering if a few of us could come over this afternoon and make a get-well-soon present for Morticia,” Roberta said.

Farah smirked at the speakerphone.  “Way ahead of you.”

“Farah?  Hi!  Did you buy something already?”

“A Manus ‘buy.’  ‘Buy’ something.  Oh, ho ho ho ho, no,” Farah said, shaking her finger at the vox speaker in scolding.  Her father slowly turned to face her in his seat, eyebrows raised.  “I made her an inhaler cozy, out of two solid pieces of steel.”

Roberta burst into laughter, eliciting a proud smirk from Farah.  “Oh my god I love it,” Roberta managed through peals of laughter.  “That’s awesome.”

“I think so,” Farah said happily, turning back to her work.  “And for Kelly, I made a little backpack token, since she likes the one Cora has.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, good call.  I forgot…OK.  Well, when will it be done?”

“I already made the one for Kelly.  I’ll be done with the one for Morticia in maybe…ten minutes?” she guessed.

“Awesome, just in time for me to drive over and take credit for it!” Roberta declared.

“Uh huh, sure, Morticia totally won’t wonder when you learned metalworking,” Farah deadpanned.

“Foiled again.”  Roberta thought for a moment.  “Hmm, so should the rest of us make something too?”

“No, you can sign this if you want.  I tried to get a hold of you earlier, actually.  Should we just hand it over to them when we meet at the hospital Saturday morning?”

“Sure.  Will she be awake by then?” Roberta asked, penciling down the information.

“No,” Farah replied sadly.

Morticia blinked against the harsh glare of the operating room lights, lucidity fighting past her chemical stupor.  A pair of doctors in full-body clean suits were standing in the corner of the room, arguing over their closed-circuit feed.  Several more doctors and a nurse in the same outfit were cleaning up too, running tools under sterilizers in the edge of the room.  Two medical orderlies were doing something under her table, probably preparing it to be moved back into her room.

She tried to speak.  All she managed instead was a thin gasp.  Instantly, every single head in the room snapped to her, and about fifteen pairs of hands reached for the valves on the IV drip in her arm.  The world swam back out of focus, and she sank back into oblivion.

Seconds passed, and suddenly she was wide awake, with a feeling like spiders under her skin crawling up and down her hands and feet.
Still, she could feel her feet, that was an improvement.  Her vision darkened, but this time it wasn’t drugs causing it.  Her father leaned over her, his grey eyes wide.  “Morticia?” he asked, his voice muffled.

“Dad?” she asked weakly.  His eyes slid shut, and he grabbed her hand, with a gentleness that put a lie to his horrifying appearance.

“You’re OK, sweetheart.  You’ll be all right.”

“Morticia?” another voice asked.  Kelly’s distinctive hair blotted out another light as she leaned in.  “Oh…my god, you’re OK,” she said, tears leaking out of her eyes.  She sank down next to her bed-ridden cousin, sobbing.  “I was…” she struggled to swallow.  “I was so scared.”

“That was pretty scary,” another voice said, one she didn’t recognize.  An arm reached across her and gently tugged a clear plastic tube from under from Kelly’s hands.

“Ah, sorry,” Kelly sniffled, hastily shifting her arm away before she could pull the IV out.

The strange voice came back, and Morticia placed it as one of the doctors she had spoken to last time she had woken up.  “I’ll be in the hall if you need me, sir.”  Mortarion nodded curtly, and the voice and its matching arm disappeared.

“Daddy…” Morticia struggled to lift one arm.  “How…how long have I been out?”

“It’s Saturday the ninth, so six days.”  Mortarion fought back a tide of anger that was starting to wash in around the edge of his voice.  “They caught the guy who did it to you, Morticia.”

“Did you or…uncle Konrad…get to him first?” Morticia asked.

“The Treasury,” Kelly said bitterly.

“Oh…damn,” Morticia said.  She flexed her fingers experimentally.  “Where…did I get hit?”

“Back.  Right through the lung,” Mortarion said, the anger pulling at him again.  How DARE some common filth do this to his daughter?

“Then why…is the air so light?” Morticia asked, gingerly shifting herself up on the bed.  A lance of agony shot through her back as she did so, and she decided against it.

“You have a new lung.  They cloned it in to replace the old one,” Mortarion explained.

“So…no scarring.  Right.”  Morticia smiled weakly, like a ray of sun peeking around a cloud’s edge.  “I should enjoy that while it lasts.”

Kelly managed a tiny smile.  Morticia focused on her for a moment.  “Are you..okay?”

“I’m…” Kelly struggled to say yes.  “No, I’m not.  I was so scared…”  She screwed her eyes shut, wiping at them with one hand.  “I’m a wreck.  I haven’t slept in days.”

“Sorry I scared you,” Morticia said apologetically.  Mortarion visibly winced.

“Not your fault.  God, nobody’s blaming you,” Kelly said immediately.  “I just…I was sitting there, and you just fell…”  Kelly buried her head in her hands and gasped, sobs of relief and loathing ripping her carefully-constructed emotional façade apart.  
“…Sorry, sorry, I’m…”

“Hey!” a voice that was far too loud suddenly interrupted.  Mortarion nearly jumped.  “Look who’s up!”  Remilia’s face suddenly appeared next to Kelly’s.  Kelly quickly dried her eyes, leaning back from her cousin’s bed.  Morticia tried to sit up a bit more, and her father slid his had gingerly behind her back, helping her sit without aggravating the incisions.  “You’re looking better!”  Remilia said cheerfully.

“You’re lying to me on my recovery bed?” Morticia asked, smiling wearily.

“Yep!  But it’s good to see you sitting up and taking notice,” Remilia said, squeezing her free hand.  Mortarian sat back a bit and watched as the rest of the Royal daughters filed in, most either carrying flowers or something similar, save Hana and Farah, both of whom were acting rather secretive.

“Hey, there she is!” Isis said, crossing the room under the watchful eye of several Death Guard serfs.  “How the hell are you?”

“Exhausted and sore,” Morticia responded, cheering up at the sight of her cousins.  “I’m glad you could all make it.”

“Like we wouldn’t?” Angela noted.  “Although I don’t know how long we can stay…”

“I would advise that you not stay more than an hour at most, my Lady,” the doctor noted from the hall, where he was hovering impatiently.

“Then, I should do this now,” Farah announced importantly.  She leaned forward and presented the box in her hands with a flourish.  “Just in case,” she started, enjoying the spotlight.  “Should the worst come to pass yet again, you see.”

Morticia blinked.  “What?”  She took the box and pulled the lid off, wondering what could make Farah so giddy.  She pulled a piece of metal out of the container and stared at it.  “Is this…is this an armored inhaler cozy?”

“It IS!” Farah said proudly, as at least a third of the other girls sighed, giggled, or just stared.

Morticia stared at Farah’s radiant smile, until a slight, pained giggle forced itself out.  She doubled over in the bed, flinching.  “Ow, it hurts to laugh.”  Mortarion helped her settle back against the pillow, and she ruefully shook her head.  “Thanks, Farah.  That made my day.”

“So glad you like it,” Farah said happily.  The other girls clustered around the bed, just chatting with her and getting her caught up on the world outside the hospital, until all too soon, the hour was up.  The doctor poked his head in, tapping a phantom wristwatch.

“Ladies, I think Morticia needs her sleep now,” Mortarion said, eliciting a few grumbles, but no complaint.  One by one they said their goodbyes, filing out until only Kelly and Morticia herself were left.  Before she walked out, though, Hana paused.

“Hey, Kelly.  This one’s for you,” she said, leaving it on the table by the door.

“Oh.  Uh…thanks,” Kelly said, managing a wave as her cousin shut the door behind her.  Morticia sunk back into the pillows, letting the exhaustion of her ordeal show.  The doctor opened the door, pushing in a small handcart of IV bags, and moved over to the tree, carefully checking the cards on the lines.  Mortarion watched him for a while, weighing his words.  He hadn’t let his simmering rage show in front of his nieces – most wouldn’t have understood – but he knew Kelly would.

“Morticia…I want you to understand…I wish I could have stopped this,” he started.

“Of course you do, Dad,” Morticia said wistfully.

“Right.  But…” his hands tightened on the metal bar on the side of the bed with an audible squeak.  “…I wish I’d been the one to find him,” he finished, his voice darkening.  The doctor shivered and hastily finished his work, leaving the room with all due decorum.

“Dad, if he was caught, he’ll hang.  I’m sure of it,” Morticia said.

“No, he won’t.  Lord Hane said he’ll get seventeen years at the most,” Mortarion growled.

“…Really?” Mortician asked, her grey eyes widening in surprise.

“I wasn’t sure how to tell-”

“The fucker was shooting into the crowd,” Kelly said, her own rage bursting forth.  “He was just shooting at RANDOM!”

Morticia paled further.  “He wasn’t…h-he wasn’t aiming for me?”

“He was making a political statement,” Mortarion said bitterly.  “And you were just the first one in the line of fire.”

“Why?  Why, why, why would he…” Morticia ran her hands over her eyes, dazed.  “Why did he do it?”

“Good question,” Mortarion answered, his lips twisting into a bitter grimace.  “Lord Hane’s answer is…unsatisfactory.”