"Am, I okay?" A weak voice asked.
The VitalScreen on her Pip-Boy had appeared, indicating much trauma to the body. Her Pip-Boy was signaling severe damage to the legs, and shrapnel to the lower torso. She was not okay. "Yeah," a deeper, more choked up voice responded, "You're okay. Just hang in there."
The explosion had come as a shock, and threw pounds of dust and concrete into the air. No one had been watching the floor as she walked into the hallway.
"A trip mine..." A third voice stated, slightly nasally.
"I don't want to die, Tim." The girl's voice choked out.
"You're not gonna' die. I'm right here," he sniffed "You're safe and okay."
The dust finally settled. Tim regained his vision and looked at her face. The left side of her face had been blown apart, leaving exposed muscle and bone. Her right leg was now just a stump and the left was hanging by strands of tissue. Deep gashes from shrapnel covered her chest, each oozing blood steadily.
"How do I look?" she whispered, her jaw working fiercely to form the words.
Tim stared at her face and then closed his right eye, so he could see only the non-disfigured side of her face.
Tears started rolling out his eyes and he whispered back, "Beautiful."
