You are now Rose Lalonde, since Dave is apparently unconscious.
And you, for the first time in what feels like forever, are panicking. "Jade!" you yell, but she doesn't come. So you yell again. You've already found your way to your medicine cabinet and have begun taking out supplies. (Bandages, Painkillers, a disinfectant solution to clean any wounds, hell, you throw some plasters in there, they appear to be illustrated with squiddles. You don't think that really matters. Jade finds you, frantic, borderline hyperventilating, and stops you in your tracks, you squirm because you don't have time to stop. "Rose! What's wrong with you!" you remember that you have yet to reveal the news that has you rushing and worrying. "Dave called. He needs help. I think he's dying." Jade stops breathing, from the looks of things. She moves slowly, while you moved faster. Her arms drop to her sides and her face contorts into an expression of terror. Surely you're mistaken.
"He needs medical supplies. He said he was bleeding." You continue. Jade looks to the purple "Hobo" bag you've begun to fill with medical supplies and suddenly, without a word, she turns on her heels and leaves. You continue grabbing supplies. (wet wipes, you dig out an old rag, it's actually a shirt you were planning on throwing out.) you're about to leave when Jade re-appears.
She has a gun.
You knew that she had them. A pistol and a rifle. You know she keeps them hidden and you know they are well looked after. You know she prefers the rifle, but she carries the pistol. She puts it in your bag before opening the door, leading the way.
You both find yourselves breaking into a run to get to the correct dorm building. You find that you're taking the steps two and a time. When you finally reach Dave and John's dorm, you feel fear swallow you whole. Are you too late? Jade is the one to march ahead. Jade is the one to yell out in frustration when she finds the door locked.
It is also Jade who throws herself at the door. Attempting to break it down. After three unsuccessful attempts, you can tell it's hurting her. You shove her away, and reach into your hair for a pin that is on the verge of falling out of your hair. You find the sacrifice worth it. You bend the bobby pin and pick the lock. Just like you used to pick the lock of your mothers liquor cabinet. You remember it well. You are numb. So, so, numb. You don't know if you can feel anything. You wonder if you would feel it if you were shot right now. It's like you've been submerged in ice water. Your breathing is so scarce and tight you might as well be drowning.
There he is.
He's bleeding out.
He collapsed by John, who seems to have taken a blow to the head. The obvious weapon of choice is nearby, it's one of Dave's preserved pre-historic creatures. Jade asks if you should call the police, and an ambulance. You tell her no. Dave had the time to make one last phone call and he picked you. There had to have been a reason.
You notice he tried to get John to bed, too. Why did he waste his time this way? Why are you wasting your time wondering?
You close the door and approach them. For some unfathomable reason, their jeans are undone. You don't question it. Jade approaches John, and you tip your bag upside-down, organisation be damned, you will save your friends if it's the last thing you do. You beckon the memory of your first aid training, however you realise they only taught you what to do while you wait for an ambulance. You curse your lack of in-depth medical knowledge.
You roll Dave over from where he's slumped on his side, and there's the wound. The weapon that caused this is near John, and part of you fears it was John that did this, and John's possible concussion was the consequence of Dave's self-defence. He's cold, pale and sweating. You hear John groan. Is he coming too? At this point you don't care. He isn't in too much trouble.
Your eye catches the shocking colour of blood everywhere. The smell of it reaches you and you think you might be sick. Aren't there medical students in this building? Surely…
You think he's going to need stitches, but you focus on putting pressure on the wound. Judging by the blood on his hands, and the bloody handprints on the walls, Dave tried to do this himself, while stumbling around, you assume to find medical supplies he clearly doesn't have or couldn't find. The rag is going from a soft lilac to a disgusting red, the colours mix unpleasantly. Jade says she thinks John has a concussion but he will be fine. You were distantly aware of her rustling the supplies you tipped onto the floor.
"Are there any medical students here?" you ask, and Jade tells you she doesn't know.
"He needs stitches. I don't know what to do, Jade. I don't know what to do." For the first time you don't know. You don't know what to do in this situation and you have lost all control and it is so foreign you are filled with a child-like fear. You're pathetic. You think you're crying, too. But you're gripped by this fear. You have lost control of this situation and it terrifies you. You don't have the answers like you always do. You hate this. You hate this so much. You're still a lost little girl, without her mother, without anyone to show her the way. Because you've always had the answers. You've always known what to do, but this is foreign territory you never thought you would be in and you don't want to be in this territory at all.
Jade's there. She has the wet wipes and disinfectant. She tells you to find a medical student.
So you do.
You stumble blinding, looking at identical halls and identical doors. You have blood on you, and you know you're crying. You knock on a door down the hall. A woman answers you. a beautiful woman with jade eyes and black hair. You ask her if she's a medical student and- praise the horror terrors tentacles and the lord himself- she says yes.
Fortune has blessed you. You guide her to your friend's dorm and she frowns. "What happened here?" she whispers and you say you don't know- dear god you don't know, but please help us-help them.
She rushes to Jade and Dave. She confirms your theory, he needs stiches. She tells you to call an ambulance- why haven't you done that yet, anyway?- and you tell you no, no, you can't, because he called you first and you know he isn't stupid enough not to call an ambulance unless he doesn't want one. And you have to trust he has a reason but part of you wants to call one anyway because you can't handle this.
She leaves to retrieve some equipment from her far-superior medical kit she takes with her when she helps at the hospital.
You don't even know this woman's name but you want to kiss her. She's helping you. Picking up the pieces you allowed to fall. You tell Jade to get ice for John. You stay with Dave and silently ask him, "Why? Why call me when you could have called an ambulance, why don't you want one? What happened?"
He doesn't answer. Not that you expect him to.
The woman returns and pulls out a needle and thread and you can't want this. She's going to give him stiches, she says that you're lucky she's done this plenty of times before. You go to wash his blood off of you. It feels like it's burning you, reminding you of your inadequacy and the burning questions you have for the other blonde. You finish getting it off you and try to get it off the walls. Because you are not a healer. You are an observer. And sometimes you can cause the harm, and sometimes you do know how to fix it. But now is neither of those times. You aren't crying any more. And you feel ashamed for allowing these tears to fall. Because you need to be strong. Like Jade, like Dave, like the mysterious doctor you dragged out of her dorm at-what time even is it?- to stitch up his wounds and tell you "he's fine, you're fine." And you find yourself straightening up. How could you allow yourself to be consumed by that black emotion coiling through you? That endless fear?
No, no more. You have grown up. You are not lost, merely misguided and you do not need your mother. You need yourself to grow up, to be that strong woman you always told yourself you were. That others always saw you as. This is no time for you to fall into the dark. You must bathe yourself in light.
You return to see that she has almost finished. She has blood on her previously immaculate manicured hands, and she has her brows furrowed in what you hope is concentration.
"Is there anything I can do?" you ask her, and she looks up to you, her hands still, but she shakes her head. "Not for this one. You can keep an eye of the other, though. I'm afraid I don't know their names. Or yours, I'm Kanaya, though. I apologise for the lack of introduction." You nod, and here Jade introduce the four of you before you even get the chance to open your mouth. You look at Jade. You know she has more experience with situations like this, unlike you. But you still question the pistol on the floor. It had fallen out your bag and you were grateful for the safety on the weapon. You had seen Kanaya looking at the prehistoric lifeform, the katana and the pistol. But she did not ask. You see the blood on the floor and wonder if it will ever come out. You wonder if they will have to pay to replace it. You wonder if Dave managed to talk to his brother.
How long was he laying here? You don't know. Time has blurred and it feels like it's been hours and minutes at the same time. Dave has a good sense of time. He would truly know, but he could not tell you. You unlock your phone instead. It's been half an hour since he called you. Surely he will survive. Surely you got to them in time?
You don't know.
You still don't know and you feel that fear returning to you. You squash it. Now is not the time. They are going to be fine. You are going to be fine. You aren't injured. You just lost control for a few brief minutes, and spiralled down, but now, now you are determined. To be useful. To help them. To be strong. To prove you aren't as weak a woman as the one who picked the lock on her mother's liquor cabinet.
Kanaya's finished. She bandages him up, and you help move him to his bed. There is a few brief seconds of tense silence. You and Jade wait for Kanaya to say something. She looks at you like she isn't sure what to tell you first. What questions to ask? What actions to take? She just doesn't know.
"I have done all I can." Is all she comes out with, and your heart plummets. Because while it isn't a death sentence, it is not the "He's fine, you're fine," you were waiting for, hoping for, begging for. The confirmation that this scare had been just that. A scare, a false alarm and soon Dave and John would be arguing over what flavour of Dorito's are superior and you would be poking your nose into his psyche and knitting him the ugliest jumpers you could possibly come up with. You might even indulge him in a penis jumper.
But to do that, he has to live.
A/N: I'm so sorry. I tried to Rose. I hope I did okay? Idk man idk. Also HOLY SHIT. So many reviews happened like how? What? So THANK YOU GUYS. Thank u for reading my trash story. Lovin' the reviews, PM's and everything and woW. Okay. Yep. 3.