The elevator rocketed downwards beneath their feet.
"Come on Jules. Come on." He muttered, pressing a hand to her side. There was so much blood – too much. It made his hands slick. Looking down at his hands, coated in her blood, his stomach gave a sickening lurch. "Open your eyes, Jules."
She recoiled in pain, her gasping breath caught on a moan.
"Pulse is weak." Wordy said, shaking fingers pressed against her throat. He carefully unfastened her helmet. Greg knelt by her head, carefully stroking her hair away from her face in a meek offering of comfort.
"Medics'll meet us in the lobby." Parker said quietly. He was trying to stay calm - for his team. But his hands shook, his heart racing in his chest.
"Coagulation packs." Sam heard himself croak. "They'll need coag-packs. Need to stop the bleeding."
"They'll have them." Lou murmured.
Beneath Sam's hands she arched and quivered. Trying to escape the pain, he knew. She tried to curl away from the unbearable pressure as he clamped a hand down over her wound, trying to stem the bleeding.
"It's okay. You're doing great Jules." He murmured. "Just another couple minutes. Promise. I promise you."
Her eyes, clouded with pain, snapped open for one a second, locking on his. Endless, deep, rich brown. The kind you could drown in. Her lips parted, trembling. But the words wouldn't form – just a meager hiss of air as it whistled through her dry lips.
"Jules."
He wouldn't ever know what she'd wanted to say. The elevator lurched to a stop. And the motion had her eyes rolling back under those thick lashes as unconsciousness took control once again.