Breaking Point 9

Engineer's room wasn't quite like the other mercenaries. His room was connected directly to his very own private workshop. He'd even taken to sound-proofing the walls so that he wouldn't disturb anyone by working late at night.

It was originally supposed to be a storage room, but when Engineer found that it wasn't being used, he asked Soldier for permission to renovate it. So he removed and sealed up the doorway that lead to the outside corridor for privacy, then built another doorway to his workshop from the wall on the far side of his closet. The newer initiates of the RED base didn't even know there was originally another room there, his work was so flawless.

Engineer's walk-in closet served as a sort of hallway between his workshop and his room. He still used it as a closet, of course, but he have many clothes to speak of, anyway. The door to his workshop was heavy and required his full weight leaning on it to give.

Now Engie wasn't a very tidy person. Organized? Well, sure… In his own, unique little way. But definitely not tidy. His workshop was usually piled high with scrap metal, abandoned projects, useless prototypes, and crumpled blueprints. After several days of cleaning almost non-stop, he'd stripped everything not of use into scrap metal, and melted all of his scraps into refined, which is now kept in a corner. The rest of the workshop basically cleaned itself after that.

Engineer had needed all that extra space for the tiny jail cell occupying a good third of his workshop. All that was in it was an occupied bed next to the wall and a nightstand. Small, yes, but not claustrophobic, and definitely several steps up from the pit Scout had been kept in. Here he'd be warm and dry and safe. That was good.

Setting everything up in the workshop definitely made things a tad more cramped, but Engineer somehow made things work. The first thing Engineer did was check up on Scout using a thermometer. As the tiny machine started working, he began to hook the boy up to an antiquated vital sign monitoring screen.

What he found wasn't encouraging in the least. Scout came out to be 86 degrees Fahrenheit, his heart rate was elevated, and his blood pressure was down. Engineer didn't know too much about medicine, but he'd bet his right hand that the poor kid had an infection from that that horrible tooth extraction.

Goddamn it… I hope all them trips to the dentist pays off… he thought as he flipped through a book he'd borrowed from Medic's extensive library. It was helpfully labeled Makeshift Dental Surgery für Dummkopfs.

He didn't have all the medical equipment necessary, but he found he was able to make due with a Dremel drill for the root canal. He was able to jerry-rig two mechanisms to help things go easier – one that squirted water when needed, and the other to suction it out. He kept a pair of needle-nose pliers on hand just to be on the safe-side. Scout still had a great deal of tooth shards in his gums that needed to be removed.

It'd taken a few hours, but Engineer was finally able to operate. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, a surgical mask, and his mining-light hat, he went to work on the kid.

There was a wince as Engineer got his very first good look inside of Scout's mouth. The gums were broken, purple, and oozing some sort liquid that couldn't have been blood or saliva. After applying a local anesthetic, the Dremel drill whirled to life.

A wave of nausea hit as blood and pus gushed out as soon as the drill hit. Engineer forced himself to push past it, wincing as the drill made a harsh whine as it dug into the bone. Remembering a section of the book, Engineer quickly rinsed, not wanting to roast it. Using the suction mechanism, he mid himself of the water and filth before Scout could choke on it.

Suddenly, there was a quite whine, and Engineer nearly jumped a mile out of his chair. Had the anesthetic not worked? Could Scout actually feel everything that was going on? He cautiously peered into the boy's face. Aside from flickering eyelids, he didn't stir. Engineer continued his work.

His labor was difficult and tedious, but it was over relatively quickly. Engineer sat back with a sigh, and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. In a pan beside him was all of the tooth shards he'd pulled out and a heap of bloody, pus-filled gauze that'd become too saturated for him to leave in the boy's mouth. Hopefully he wouldn't have to be up all night replacing gauze, but at this point, the chances of that seemed slim.

Now Engineer had a different problem to solve. The illness itself. He couldn't be sure, but with the help of a dichotomous key, Engineer was pretty sure Scout had something called Blood Poisoning. Highly dangerous, and almost always fatal, if not treated right away. Scout needed antibiotics, and fast. Luckily, while digging through the lab, Engineer happened upon some old cow pills – back when RED still had cows to speak of.

God damn that Medic.

Anyways, they weren't expired, and he'd read in the old, worn medical textbook, that antibiotics were antibiotics – they'd still work on Scout, as long as he accounted for the weight difference.

Sighing, he flipped through a book that indicated how much antibiotic a boy Scout's size should take. From then on, it was just a simple matter of proportioning. He ended up grinding the pill up, weighing it to about a third of its original mass, and fed it to the unconscious boy by mixing it with pudding.

Engineer was exhausted now. He'd meant to keep watch on the kid through the night, but he could barely keep his eyes open. He returned to his own room with a yawn, leaving the door to his workshop open so that he could hear if anything went awry, and double checking to make sure his bedroom door was locked.

With everything accounted for and in place, Engineer allowed himself to drift off, as the beeping of Scout's electrocardiogram lulled him to sleep.