Sequel to licenseartistic post
He groaned loudly as they lifted him, even though he knew full well they were going to do it. Pain lanced through him every time he breathed and he wondered whether it had nicked a lung. His eyes looked around, his hand groping out to find hers only to be gripped a second later - her face looked serious, almost determined, only her eyes showed how worried she really was as she looked down at him, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her cheeks.
Carefully they carried him through the maze of corridors that they had gone through only moments before. Had it been a trap? A coincidence? Thankfully the pain and the disorientation stopped him from thinking too much on it. They had gone straight in, had thought nothing but helping, and it had only been Hyde and his quick reflexes that had stopped the worst from happening. There was only so much he could take, and seeing her hurt again would have been too much for him to take. They might not have been so lucky this time. He hissed as they moved along at a quicker pace the closer they got to the entrance, his eyes searching and finding Rose’s.
They lifted him outside, the light blinding him for a few moments, and he groaned softly, too weak to do anymore now. There was still a paramedic applying pressure to the wound in his back, just near his shoulder, to the left of his spine. It hadn’t come out the other side he noted and he was glad for small mercies. He couldn’t help but wonder, however, just how much damage it had done to his insides. Still every drop of blood, every ounce of pain was worth it because she didn’t have to go through it, not again.
They lifted him slowly into the ambulance, shutting the doors behind them and the engine kicked into life. He took in several shuddering breaths, grateful when the oxygen mask was placed on his face, another machine strapped to his finger and it bleeped fast but steady. He was vaguely aware of an injection being prepared, of a faint scratch near the wound in his back and thankfully the pain abated slightly.
“You okay?” he murmured up at Rose, managing a small smile. His voice was weak, scratchy, breathy but it was there none the less.
Rose nodded, opening her mouth as if she would say something before shutting it again. She was quiet for a long while, not quite sure what to say - the bullet was no doubt meant for her and he had saved her, he had thrown himself in front of it and he could possibly…no she wouldn’t think on that now, she couldn’t. He was okay now, they were going to the hospital, he would be fine…he was strong, and anyway Edward wouldn’t allow anything to happen to him. Or so she hoped.
The ride to the hospital was on the whole silent bar Henry’s low murmurs of pain, the slower blips of the machines he was hooked up to and their attempts conversation as he drifted in and out of consciousness, thanks mostly to the morphine he was now dosed up with - it left him calm and somewhere on the brink of sleep and wakefulness. It was interesting, it also shut Hyde up, he should have thought of this medication sooner. He would have laughed had he the energy and presence of mind to do so so he simply held Rose’s hand tightly, almost as he was afraid of letting go, and maybe part of him was.
The engine was cut off and he jolted to a little, crying out loud as pain shot through him, an almost choked cry that sounded so painful to those around him. He grit his teeth, trying to get his head around everything but the morphine didn’t provide the cushion it had done before and he wondered if it had anything to do with Edward. Still he tried to ignore it, concentrate on Rose. They spoke to him before they lifted him but most of it simply went over his head. They lifted him again and again he cried out, although not as much as last time.
He was carried inside, doctors and nurses swarming about him, talking to him, asking him questions, asking Rose questions but he couldn’t really answer them. He found conscious leaving him for longer intervals and he was vaguely aware of people talking around him, but not to him, or to Rose, he managed to catch the one phrase that made him almost start, or would have had he been in the right frame of mind; ‘We need to get the bullet out, it’s pressing too close to his heart’
A doctor’s head loomed over him and he was aware that he was being spoken to now, Rose’s hand squeezing his hand, telling him it would be okay, that she would see him soon.
He winced at the dull scratch, the cool liquid seeping into his veins and then blessed sleep.