The world was going black around me, blurring and flickering in places; everything was numb, a tendril of warm stickiness running down the side of my face. I shut my eye against It, the misty figures moving and talking in low voices losing all sense of depth. I could barely see what they were doing as they passed by me, looking urgent and pained as they rushed to the other side of the vehicle. To what end, I couldn't recall.

A pair of strong hands wrapped around my shoulders - the door opened, or was it already gone? - and pulled me from the harsh confines of my prison. I could suddenly taste metal in my mouth, the scent of it heavy in the air, making it too thick to breathe properly. I gasped, feeling my chest inflate and compress, inflate and compress - it was too fast, though; I was going to hyperventilate. A flash of red crossed my vision, brighter than the rest, brighter than the splotches staining the pavement around me where I lay, disappearing before I could call out - my voice left me as a mask met my face, covering it and further blocking my line of sight. I could barely see a thing now, but as my head grew fuzzy and light, I sighed softly to myself, letting the world go black.

Voices still filled my ears, static and rough in their distance. They had to be nearby, I admitted to myself in my oxygen-induced reverie, or else I wouldn't be able to hear them at all. Still, I heard nothing more than snatches of conversation between pairs of them - '...critical condition…' '...Crush syndrome...long's he been trapped here?' '...of an hour, at least…' '...got to amputate…' - that made no sense. I wasn't trapped, I wasn't crushed. Nothing to amputate. Not unless they meant…

I forced my eyes open, rolling to one side slightly - I watched a pair of men, bulky in their starched whites, lift a man, pale and twitching, from the other side of the car - '...going into shock…' '...got to do it now…' - and frowned to myself. There was too much blood, so much blood; more of that warmth trickled down against my hand, not mine. I knew it wasn't mine, couldn't be. It was his.