"Two... something. I'm not quite sure. You were breathing kinda weirdly, and I wanted to make sure you weren't having a stroke or something." She looked at him suddenly, a smile threatening to spill over. "You're not, are you?"
"Well, God, I hope not. That wouldn't be good." He sighed, and wiped his forehead. "I don't think I'm having a stroke, luckily."
"Oh good. That's nice." She went to the sink and took a clean rag out from under the counter. She turned on the water and ran the cloth under the stream, her hands wringing it out meticulously. "Here," she said, returning to him. "Put it on your face. You'll look dorky, but you'll feel better."
He held it in his hand, looking at it, then at her. "Alright. Just don't laugh at me," he said mockingly, before pressing the rag to his head.
The rag was lukewarm and weirdly comforting. Poppy moved back to the sofa and grinned. "Me? Poppy Lark Abernathy? I must say, I'm insulted," she said. "When have I ever laughed at your troubles?"
"You're insulted? You're the one who's smiling right now." He shook his head and shut his eyes again, not quite wanting to sleep.
She chuckled. "You're not wrong, and I do think this is funny, so I guess I'm guilty," she said agreeable. A loud alarm came from outside, a sort of whine that threatened danger. Poppy frowned and looked to the window. Her eyes widened. "Francis," she said, starting towards him. "Get dow-" She was cut off by a dull whistling sound, and the window exploding behind her.
Poppy had a weird pain in her side, and she was curled in a protective position on the floor. "Oww..." she moaned as she uncurled herself. She stood up, cursing to herself and holding onto the bed for support. "Can you walk?" she said, her jaw set against the pain. "We have to get out of here right now."
He jumped up, without answering. "We need to leave. Now. Can you run? Are you okay?" He was tense, ready to run and go.
"I'm as good as I'm going to get," she said, grabbing her pack from the sofa, still unpacked from yesterday's mission. She slung it over her shoulder, hissing at the wound in her side, still not investigated, and opened the door. "Let's go."
He ran out, heading towards the staircase. "We need to get somewhere underground for now, until the attacks are over," he said back to her, facing forward.
She followed him through the halls, ignoring the blood slipping through her fingertips. "Okay," she said. "You probably know this place better than I do. Anywhere we can go?"
He opened the door to the stairwell. "The area is solid concrete. We should be safe here for now." He hadn't noticed the blood yet.
"Is there a safer place we can get to?" she asked, her mouth set in a straight line. Her usually rosy cheeks were pale, and she kept blinking, trying to focus.
"Not current- Wait, are you okay?" It didn't take long for him to notice the blood. "What the *squee!*?! Why didn't you say anything?" He slammed the door shut, and locked it. The lights flickered. "What do we do? Do I do anything?" He was nervous and pacing, an angry expression as he awaited her words.
She leaned against the wall and slid down. The stairwell shook as another explosion went off outside. "Uhh.." she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her voice quavered as she gripped her side, her hand awkward around the wound. "Let me... let me just look and see if it's something I can fix." She lifted the side of her torn shirt and looked down at the large shard of glass sticking out of her side. It was roughly the shape of a triangle with one of the points stuck a couple of inches below her ribs. She took a shuddering breath and gazed at it, disbelieving. "Oh," she said in a small voice.
Francis knelt down, his hand placed over his mouth in thought. There was worry in his eyes. "What.. What do we do?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus. "Umm..." she said, her hands shaking. "Okay. Okay. I need to get some stuff out of my bag." She shifted, trying to get her backpack off, hissing as the glass shifted in her side. "I... I don't think it's actually too deep," she said, gritting her teeth. "It just hurts really badly." She cursed under her breath as she resettled against the wall, and leaned her head back.
"Let me help," he said softly, helping her take off the backpack without having to move around as much. "What do you need from it?"
