Someone was calling my name.
"Trudy! Trudy! Wake up!"
It was faint; muffled. Like someone calling through water, or like I had cotton stuffed into my ears.
I wanted to answer, but my throat wouldn't work. It was dry; dry and coppery, like the taste of blood far back in my throat. I couldn't get my tongue to work; it lay heavy in my mouth, sluggish and unresponsive. My whole body felt the same: my limbs might as well have been made of lead, and I couldn't get my eyes to open, either. All I knew was darkness, and the muffled, distant sound of someone calling for me.
"Trudy! Come on, don't do this...please! Wake up!"
I am awake! I tried to reply. But nothing issued from my lips, no sound passing through the chapped barrier they had become.
"Please, Trudy...c'mon, we won. Please, don't leave me...don't go..."
The voice was familiar, and pained, and it struck something deep inside me. I had to respond to that voice. I couldn't not respond to that voice.
Summoning all the strength I had ever possessed, I forced my eyes to respond, trying to get my lids to open. It was a little like trying to pry open cement that had been welded shut, but after a small, painful eternity, I managed. Slivers of light poked in between my lashes, and I could see color in front of me, blurred and in motion: blues and greens and reds swirling in a dizzying, chaotic dance.
"Come on Trudy--breathe! Dammit, don't let go, breathe!"
I am! I shouted in my mind. I was, wasn't I? I had to be. I'd notice if I wasn't, surely I would.
Suddenly nervous that maybe I wouldn't, I focused my attention on that most basic of tasks. But yep--slow, but steady. In and out. Steady and sure.
"God...please, Trudy...please, I...I can't..."
The voice broke on a sob, and I blinked, trying to bring the picture into focus. Because the sounds were making no sense. I was breathing. I was awake. I was alive. I was almost positive, and I was determined to prove it.
The vision that swam into focus in front of me painted a different picture. And it was one that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
Jake was there--that part I expected. Na'vi, of course; he could hardly be anything else out here. Sitting several yards away from me, his body was painted as I'd last seen it, hair done up in elaborate braids with feathers and beads woven into it, necklaces and the comm around his long neck. His long, powerful limbs were spattered with blood, but not so much as to be dangerous, it didn't look like. It didn't even look like most of it was his.
And that was the weird part. It looked like most of it was mine.
Jake was cradling my body in his arms, rocking a little as he looked down at me. And I had to admit, I did look like I was in pretty bad shape. First of all was the blood. Then there were the burns--streaks of scorched flesh. My limbs were charred and mangled, bent in odd angles in several locations. In fact, it was a miracle he could tell it was me at all.
Because from where I was, I was hard pressed to see the resemblance.
I closed my eyes again, unable to make sense of watching Jake holding me when I was so clearly lying on the ground over here. I didn't know if I was dead or having some kind of out-of-body experience, but I wanted no part of it, either way.
I decided to refocus my efforts on speech. Opening my mouth, letting my heavy, dry tongue make its sluggish way over my lips, I focused my energy, and moaned. It was quiet, but it was enough. From a few yards away, I heard a soft inhale, and the sniffling, halting breathing that had been coming from Jake stopped. Seconds later, I felt a hand on my arm, squeezing gently.
"You're going to be all right, Sister," he murmured to me, and I could hear his voice cracking a little. He moved, squeezing my arm again, before I heard him whisper very quietly, "I'm so sorry, Trudy."
Then, with a rustle of foliage and a slight grunt, he scooped me up into his arms, holding me against his chest and calling for help.
I didn't hear the rest. I was too exhausted to try to make sense of it anyway. Closing my eyes, I let the darkness take over again, and slept.
* * *
(A/N: This is a one-shot for now, but I might continue at some point, if inspiration strikes. Thanks for reading!)