Seek A Way Out!

[Pippi]

If she had been able to speak in words of more than one syllable, Nanna-Fiora would have complained as Derrick slipped his jacket underneath her head.

She understood why he did it – at least, she thought she did, in her swirling, tumbling thoughts, head like a snowglobe seconds away from shattering – but she wanted to stay attached to the cooling, comforting earth. The final bastion of defence against the warmth spreading across her body, emanating from her head and from the gash in her side.

Right now, though, she wasn’t in any fit state to argue, or even to do much more than breathe. She lay there, gently propped up, breathing in and trying to get as much of that cool night air as she could. She wished she could see. She wished she could tell exactly what Derrick was doing, exactly when he was going to start fixing her wound, and exactly when the pain would ramp up all over again.

Her first sign that it was happening was when she felt him press his hand against the wound, and pain wracked her entire body again.

She gasped in shock, managing to bite down on her turtleneck just before Derrick started pouring water onto her stab wound. She knew it had to be the water from one of their water bottles, but it felt like a cascade of boiling water being poured directly onto her open wound.

The pain was almost enough to make her black out. Somehow, she stayed conscious. As the seconds dragged on to feel like hours, she wished she hadn’t. Each drop of water was more and more painful than the last, and her groans and gasps turned into cries of pain, tears flooding out of her eyes.

Derrick said something. She didn’t know what. She didn’t care what. All she could feel was pain, pain so great she started to wish again that it would just end her here and now.

But she had to hold on. She just had to find that desire to survive in the mess that was her mind.

She found it, momentarily.

Then Derrick pressed down hard onto the wound, and it vanished from her grasp, pain flooding her senses, and Nanna-Fiora screamed, the collar of her turtleneck doing little to muffle the sound.

Maybe he was trying to kill her.

Maybe he’d been working with her attacker all along.

It didn’t matter either way. She could just about lift her left arm a couple of inches off the ground before weakly slamming it back down again.

Aside from that, all she could do was trust.

And believe.

And live.

[Ohm]

The screams echoed through the yard as Derrick pressed and pressed on the wound. Despite Fiora's sweater being in the way didn't stop her voice from coming out full force. He gritted his teeth and kept his push, this had to be done, even if she was in pain from what he was doing.

After a few minutes he slackened his push and lifted the blood covered blanket to see her wound before adding more water onto it. Afterwards he put it back down again with another push. Less forceful this time just to get it clean.

Derrick felt himself inadvertently hold his breath as his heart started beating like crazy and the sweat rolled down his face. Fiora's screams had lessened since he had begun, but that didn't mean the pain had stopped for her. He could see attempts on her part to move or do anything to no avail.

Once he felt the time had passed, he flung the blanket back to the bag and got the bandages out. He began the process, putting one hand underneath her before lifting her up a bit with the other wrapping the bandage around her stomach.

Slowly, but surely she was wrapped up.

Once he was done, Derrick let her back down to the ground and took a few steps back to survey what he'd done while crouched. His breathing haggard as he looked over her bandage whilst taking his gloves off.

[Pippi]

Felt less painful.

Getting better? Maybe she was just getting numb. Couldn’t tell.

Throat was less sore too. Still didn’t tell her anything. Could be healing. Could be fading away.

Wait and see.

Pressure stopped. Then a new sensation. Hands on her back, reaching under her. She lifted. Tried to. Did as much as she could.

It felt numb. The wound.

She felt numb.

Numb.

Better? Worse?

She’d find out. Maybe.

Suddenly no movement. No sensation. Over? Finished?

Safe?

Mouth open. Lips crack.

“Th… Thanks…”

And as she spoke, the last of Nanna-Fiora’s energy left her, and the darkness swallowed her mind up, sending her tumbling into unconsciousness.

(Nanna-Fiora Kroos continued in You Found It!

[Ohm]

The screams died down as he did his last. For a second he'd wondered if he'd killed the poor girl before her mouth opened again, for a brief bit, if only to say thanks before shutting again. Outside of his breathing and the sound of wind whipping against metal scrap, there was no sound in the scrap yard.

He knelt down and put a finger to her throat to check for a pulse. Luckily he was greeted by one and with a sigh of relief lowered her sweater back to its place. He removed his jacket from under her head and placed it over her before seating himself down beside the kit and leaned back for himself. Just to breath for a bit to calm himself. His eyes felt heavy and his nose running. He found himself almost nodding off at points before realizing and forcing himself to be awake.

He needed to do one thing first.

Reaching into the kit, he grabbed some bandages for himself. Setting one along the side of his face. Stopped the feeling of uninvited air in his mouth.

He wondered to himself how things had ended up like this for him. Here he was, surrounded by scrap and junk in the dark with a girl from school barely holding on to life. The overall feeling of tiredness running through him. Punctuated by the pain resonating from his fight with Stan and their mystery attacker. Like many, this wasn't how he wanted to go, but here they were.

And with tired eyes looking over, he had to keep in mind she had it worse than him. He'd been alone for most of his time. She'd been with friends and lost them. She'd almost lost the will to live.

Hell, she almost did lose her life. Or maybe she will under the night. He didn't know. Was it enough? Even if she survived, then what? He couldn't go looking for Stan, knowing that she would be that injured.

Derrick laid his head down on the ground and closed his eyes. A headache had formed in his mind and he kept trying to calm his breath to himself. Soon, he fell to sleep.

((Derrick Thomson continued in You found it!))