It's not as bad as it looks. It's not as bad as it looks. It's not as bad as it looks. Michiru repeated these words over and over, like a mantra, as she pressed one hand down onto the bullet wound; she knew that it was futile, that it wouldn't help stop the bleeding – from the large puddle which had formed beneath Haruka, she could tell that the bullet had gone all the way through, and most of the blood was spilling from the exit wound, still hidden from sight thanks to the blonde's position on the ground.
This was bad, she knew, but at least, she told herself, the bullet hadn't hit close to any vital organs; it had gone in right beneath her collarbone, and Michiru figured that it was the pain and shock which had knocked her out, never having been shot herself, but having seen the effects of bullet wounds often enough to know them well.
Hurried footsteps approached her from behind, and she whipped around, her gun in her free hand the blink of an eye later, her other hand still on the wound, despite how futile this was, the weapon in her hand and the cold look in her eyes prompting the woman who had been approaching her to come to an almost screeching halt.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa", she stated, holding up her hands to show she was unarmed, "take it easy, we wanna help!"
While she spoke, Michiru took in as many details about her as she could, not even her upset state enough to stop her trained gaze; the woman was tall, almost as tall as Haruka, a bit more on the muscular side than the lean blonde, brown hair tied back in a ponytail, the hands she held up calloused, telling her that she was used to holding a gun and to physical labour.
"You helped us against these soldiers, now let us help you", the brunette went on, slowly lowering her hands when Michiru relaxed visibly, even though she didn't lower the gun yet, "my friend, she's the doctor you came here for, right? She can help…"
"She's a scientist, as far as I know", Michiru replied, lowered her gun though, fighting the urge to glance at Haruka, not wanting to leave the other woman out of her sight, "not a physician. Will she know what she's doing?"
"Yes", the brunette replied at once, daring to take another step closer, "she's stitched me up a dozen times. So, let's get your friend inside, okay?"
She waited until Michiru had given a terse nod, then turned to the lab and called out, the sudden unexpected loudness of her voice making Michiru flinch.
"Ami", the brunette was yelling, "it's okay, you can come out, bring the stretcher!"
For a few seconds, nothing happened, giving Michiru time to focus on the unpleasant sensation of Haruka's blood on her skin; it still was trickling from the wound, hot and sticky against her palm, and for the first time in her life, the sight and feeling and smell made her stomach turn.
Then, the door of the lab opened, and a somewhat petite woman came hurrying outside, carrying a folded up stretcher; she was smaller than the brunette, and much less muscular, almost as lean as Haruka, her blue hair cut short, a white lab coat fluttering as she rushed to where the blonde laid lifelessly.
"Get her on the stretcher, quick", she ordered in a brisk voice as she put said stretcher down next to Haruka, "she's losing too much blood. But be careful."
Nodding, the brunette moved to take careful, but still firm hold of Haruka's legs; Michiru grasped her beneath the armpits, and after a quick count to three from the taller woman, they lifted her up and put her down onto the stretcher, fully revealing the puddle of blood she had been lying in, the sight being enough to make Michiru nauseous yet again.
Forcing the feeling down, she picked up one end of the stretcher, the brunette taking the other; with the doctor taking the lead, they hurried into the lab, the doctor directing them to a stainless steel table in the centre of the room, Michiru's heart hammering up to her throat by the time they had lowered her companion onto it, and not just from the exertion of carrying the stretcher.
"Don't worry", the brunette told her, placing a hand on her shoulder, only to pull back when Michiru tensed immediately and glared at her, speaking on after a brief startled pause, "Ami knows what she is doing, your friend's gonna be okay… Do you want something to drink? Or to eat?"
"Makoto makes great skag steak", the doctor, Ami, Michiru figured, threw in, sounding somewhat absent-mindedly as she was focused on examining Haruka; the mere thought of eating made Michiru's stomach turn again, and she shook her head, not trusting herself to speak, fearing that she might throw up the moment she'd open her mouth.
"Get her some water", Ami told her companion, either not having seen Michiru's negative response or ignoring it, "and then please both be quiet, this is going to be delicate work."
Reaching out, Makoto almost took hold of the sniper's arm, then remembered her previous reaction to being touched and stopped herself in the last second; instead, she gave the smaller woman an almost pleading look, and after a moment, Michiru nodded, following her when she led her out of the lab's main area and into a smaller adjoining room.
There, she moved to the small fridge standing in one corner, while Michiru took the chance given to look around; she spotted nothing out of the ordinary, a bunch of tools she knew nothing about and a few vials filled with purple, thick liquid, but nothing which told her what exactly the doctor was researching out here, in the middle of nowhere.
"Stay away from the purple stuff", Makoto advised as she turned away from the fridge with two water bottles in hand and noticed her studying the vials, "Ami says it's highly poisonous."
"You're not a doctor, then?" Michiru gave back, accepting the bottle of water when Makoto held it out to her, telling herself that she might as well find out more about the two of them while Ami was taking care of Haruka, her words prompting Makoto to shake her head.
"No, not even an official assistant", she then let the sniper know, taking a sip of her water before she went on, "just… helping out where I can, and protecting her the best I can. Not that it did much good against those Crimson Lance goons, thanks for your help with those."
"I've had the pleasure to run into them before", Michiru replied, at the same instant deciding that this would be all she'd reveal, "and they weren't exactly friendly."
"They wanted her piece of the key", Makoto told her, giving information rather freely, and immediately making Michiru ask herself if she had some sort of hidden agenda, and only tried to gain her trust by not withholding this, "but she was not willing to give it to them. Is that what they wanted from you, too?"
Her mind raced as she tried to figure out how to answer this without giving anything away; before she could come up with something though, Ami sharply called "Makoto!" from the other room, the brunette putting her water down at once and hurrying to the adjoining room, Michiru following her after a moment of hesitation.
"I need you to help me", Ami told her companion in a brisk voice, "you need to keep her in a stable position on her side, she's still losing too much blood…"
Makoto said something in reply as she moved to the table, but Michiru all at once found it hard to focus on their exchange and on what they were doing; from one heartbeat to the next she felt oddly light-headed, clutching her water bottle as if to ground herself as she wondered if she was about to faint.
Neither Makoto, nor Ami noticed that something was amiss, both of them fully focused on Haruka now; had she been anyone else, or had it been anyone else on that table, Michiru might have called out to them, but as it was, she remained quiet, trying to control her breathing with the small hope that this would help her get rid of the strange feeling.
She took another breath, belatedly realizing that she had started moving, towards one of the tables; she was quite startled to find that she was walking, her feet moving on seemingly their own volition, giving her time to wonder if she was having some sort of mental breakdown now.
Then, she saw the object which laid on the table, and her heart skipped a beat; it was a perfectly matching part for the piece of the key she already had, and while the notion that somehow, it was calling out to her seemed quite absurd, she couldn't help herself, but just had to take out her own piece, neither Ami, nor Makoto noticing what she was doing as she stopped at the table, looking down on the piece, its dark purple reflected deep in her eyes.
Again she belatedly realized that she was moving as she dug her piece of the key out of her pocket; it almost seemed to vibrate in her hand, as if eager to be joining its counterpart again, and she suddenly felt the need to make this happen, too strong to let it be ignored.
"What…", she heard Ami behind her, but didn't stop; the doctor sounded alarmed when she cried out to her, demanded to know what she was doing, but again Michiru ignored her, not even noticing that she was holding her breath as she picked up the doctor's piece and moved it closer to her own.
She didn't even need to put them together on her own, she observed, both pieces vibrating in her hands now, then almost jumping forward, joining each other with a flash of bright purple light; behind her, Ami froze in mid-step as the same light revealed faint, lightly blue markings on her skin, running from her right wrist up her arm to her shoulder, spreading to her chest and throat from there.
"Holy crap!" Makoto called out somewhere behind the doctor, neither of them reacting to her though; instead, Michiru pocketed which now was half of the key, then turned and walked past the stunned Ami, to the table Haruka laid on, blue lights dancing and flickering in her eyes as she stopped next to it and looked down at the blonde.
In breathless silence, Ami and Makoto watched how she raised her right hand, the complicated looking symbols on her skin glowing brighter for a few seconds; then, she lowered her hand, onto the shockingly large exit wound, the glow brightening even further while her eyes narrowed.
Makoto looked as if she wanted to say something, but a sharp gesture from Ami stopped her; neither of them could look away when the glow seemed to flow down her arm and into her fingers, then, as if it was brimming over, began covering the wound, Ami's eyes going wide when seconds later, the flesh started to knit back together.
She had seen her share of accelerated healing, during her time at Dahl, and during the experiments the company had performed in their labs; it all had come at a price, but nothing of it had been like this, so quick and apparently painless, Haruka displaying none of the spasms Ami had seen on tests of unconscious subjects, but simply lying there, not moving a muscle while the glow kept flowing and healing the wound.
It didn't even take thirty seconds for the injury to be gone completely, as if it had never been there, the only indicators that it had been being the holes in Haruka's shirt and vest and the blood staining her clothes; the glow began to lessen, then vanished, prompting Michiru to let her hand drop back to her side – before her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed, Makoto leaping forward and catching her at the last second.
"What the Hell was that", she demanded while she carefully lowered the sniper to the ground, noticing how the symbols on her skin faded into nothingness, "have you ever seen something like that before?!"
"No", Ami replied, unable to take her eyes of Michiru, and thus not even noticing how Haruka opened her eyes, looking confused, but perfectly aware, "but I've heard of this… of women like her… before. She's a Siren."