Consequences

Part two of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

Disclaimer: I do not own, or pretend to own, Digimon Savers or any of its subsequent characters, plots or other ideas. That right belongs solely to Bandai and Toei Animation. The only thing that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

Tohma felt ice grip at his heart at the announcement. "What do you mean?" he asked urgently. If they couldn't get in contact with headquarters...

"I'm getting the same static signal as before, when you and Masaru came here last time," she reported quickly. "I couldn't find either of you before. Now I'm getting the same noise and blackout going out that I got back then, going in." She held up the communicator, displaying a screen filled with black and white snow.

Tohma felt the first edges of dread slip quietly into his mind, but he forced them back determinedly, willing himself not to panic. "Reconfigure and try again," he told her. "See if you can try a different frequency. We can't stay here, we don't have that much time."

Judging by Yoshino's helpless look she'd already been trying such measures without success, and was hoping he'd have a different idea. But all she did was nod and say, "I'll keep trying," before moving on to the next order of business. "The fight's over. Sunflowmon and Gaogamon managed to take down the two smaller Devidramon, but the third one, our original target, escaped."

Blinking slightly, Tohma looked up briefly to scan the clearing. Yoshino was right—a pair of dark spotted eggs sat a short distance away, and Gaogamon stood guard like a sentinel dog nearby, ears pricked and alert for danger. That the third had run was unfortunate, especially since it was the same Devidramon they'd come for to begin with, but there was little they could do about that now.

Masaru seemed to disagree. He'd been fairly quiet apart from the occasional groan of pain, but at Yoshino's pronouncement he stirred and tried to push himself up again. His teeth ground in a grimace Tohma could practically hear—he knew, from his studies, that Masaru had to be in agony at the moment, even if he was too prideful about his damned fighting to let on—and his expression was drawn and tight. But his voice was firm as he rasped, "We gotta go after him. Can't let him get away. Not good to leave a fight unfinished. S'why we're here, right?"

"Boss, I don't think that's a good idea," Agumon said anxiously, curling his claws around his partner's shoulders again to try and push him down. But he was tentative and afraid of hurting his human, and it did nothing.

Tohma was more firm about it, forcing Masaru back down yet again. "I told you," he said, with surprising patience considering the subject, "Stay still. If you move too much you'll bleed faster and you can't afford that."

"But the digimon—" Masaru protested, attempting to free his shoulders again from the combined grip of Tohma and his own digimon.

"We're aborting the mission," Tohma said flatly. "Agent survival always takes priority over the target missions. And as a medical professional I'm telling you it's absolutely critical you get to a medical facility now."

"What?" Masaru slurred. "No, no way, it's not that bad, it's just a—" He paused as he shifted slightly, jarring the injury and forcing him to gasp, before valiantly finishing, "—just a scratch."

Tohma merely gave him a flat look, and Agumon said tentatively, "Boss, you can't even sit up without my help...I don't understand humans, but that means it's more than just a scratch, right?"

"You're absolutely right," Tohma informed him cooly.

"Okay, fine," Masaru hissed painfully. "Whatever, so maybe I can't fight. I'll be f-fine, just leave me here with Agu...Agumon, we'll be okay." And although it clearly pained him with every fiber of his being, both mentally and physically, he added, "You guys should go ahead and beat it...it's not good to l-let a fight go unfinished like th...that."

"You can't even walk on your own," Tohma said flatly, as he pried off the bloodstained latex gloves and stuffed them in a plastic bag for disposal. "How do you expect to get out of here alive? You can't evolve Agumon in that state, either, so you'd be a sitting duck. No, we're all going. We'll return for the Devidramon later once we've gotten you to a hospital." Packing the first aid kit quickly, he said more urgently over his shoulder to Yoshino, "Any luck with headquarters?"

"None," Yoshino said helplessly. "Nothing's getting through, no matter what I try."

Tohma kept his expression neutral, in control, but inside he was screaming in frustration. This was extremely bad. At this rate it was looking as though they wouldn't be able to call for an immediate Digital Gate after all. That meant they'd have to wait until the pre-arranged Digital Gate approximately four hours from now, and quite frankly Tohma wasn't sure if Masaru could last that long—especially without decent supplies, or a blood transfusion. Already he was showing signs of blood loss; with the placement of the wound, Tohma wasn't sure he'd be able to stop it. Masaru need a hospital, not a field first aid kit.

But there's nothing I can do about that, the coolly logical half of him deduced. The facts are as they are. Now devise a plan based around them.

"Alright," he said aloud, after a moment of thought. "If we can't leave until the pickup Gate at five, that means we're just going to have to make our current situation as favorable as possible for us. This place is too open, and too dangerous."

Turning to his digimon, he gave his orders. "Gaogamon, I need you to scout ahead. Be careful, and avoid confrontations, because I won't be there to help you. Head back to our entry point—" he gestured in the correct direction based off his palmtop's map—"and scout for a location that is safe, relatively clean, defensible, near a source of water, near a source of fuel for fires, and within five minutes' traveling distance to the Gateway's point. Leave at once."

"Yes, Master," the enormous blue akita said solemnly. He gave Agumon an almost pitying look, and then lunged into the tree line, disappearing in the direction they'd first arrived from.

"What do we do?" Agumon asked anxiously. "I want to help Boss get better! How do I help?" He still had his claws wrapped carefully over his partner's shoulders, although by this point it didn't seem to matter. Masaru was starting to act lethargic, and lacked his usual fiery energy; Tohma doubted he'd be trying to get up on his own any more for the time being.

"What we're doing now is moving," Tohma decided crisply. "This place still isn't safe, and that Devidramon could come back any minute, especially if it realizes we're down two digimon. We'll head in the direction of the Gate access point for now, and Gaogamon can find us later to lead us to the place he finds." He was confident that his digimon would be successful in that, at least.

"How do we move Masaru?" Yoshino asked, looking worried. She was still fiddling with the communicator in one hand, stubbornly trying to get the thing to work even if they both knew at this point it was useless.

Tohma considered, and finally looked over at Yoshino's digimon. She was still in her Adult form as Sunflowmon, and he realized that having digimon partners gave them a few advantages at least. They didn't have a stretcher, but a digimon could carry a human effortlessly when Adult.

"Sunflowmon," he addressed. The strange flower-dinosaur-fairy digimon crouched lower to acknowledge him, and Tohma asked, "Can you carry him in your hands? Keeping him as flat as possible," he added, modeling with his own human hands.

"I think so," Sunflowmon said. "As long as Yoshino makes sure I don't change back to Lalamon."

"I can keep my Digisoul up," Yoshino promised with a determined nod. "If that's what it takes."

Sunflowmon drifted over to the prone Masaru and his frightened partner. She looked more than a little anxious herself, with a surprising amount of expression for a creature with a flower for a head, and asked, "I'm not going to...to hurt him if I pick him up, am I?" She seemed just as thrown off at the thought of Masaru being hurt as Agumon did.

"We don't have a choice," Tohma said. "Just be very careful, and make sure he stays laying flat. Elevating him or sitting him up could make the bleeding worse."

Sunflowmon's large leaf hands trembled with nervousness as she reached for the injured human, but for all her worries she was infinitely gentle as she slid her half-formed fingers underneath his body and lifted him up from the sticky digital dirt. Still, Masaru gasped as he was moved, and writhed slightly as Sunflowmon's hands shifted beneath him, eliciting a frightened yelp from the digimon and a soft, "Oh, don't die, I didn't mean to do that!"

"Relax," Tohma said, supervising the whole operation. "He's going to be in pain, there's nothing we can do about that. You did a good job, now just hold him like that, and keep him as flat as possible, don't cup your hands if you can help it. Got it?"

"Yes," Sunflowmon said. Her hands weren't quite big enough for a full-grown human, and Masaru's feet and part of his legs hung over the edges of the leafy limbs. But as long as she kept her hands flat, with her fingers interlaced, it was almost like a stretcher—and better than anything else they had.

"Good," Tohma repeated. He could tell the poor digimon was afraid of hurting the human in her care further, and it was best to give her as much reassurance as possible. "We'll start walking back to the entry point now. Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything rash like try to go fight again, and let me know if he seems to get worse at all immediately."

Sunflowmon looked down at her charge and said with confusion, "Does he even know I'm carrying him? Masaru, are you okay?"

The teen stirred slightly at being addressed, although her question was a fair one; he didn't seem to quite realize he'd been transplanted from the ground to her hands. "Hol' on a sec," he slurred dazedly. "The world's kinda spinnin' an' I think the digi-sun just turned into a damned flower..."

Agumon bit his claws. "What's wrong with him?" he asked, frantic. "He's talking all funny now!"

"Loss of coherency," Tohma said, and at the little dinosaur's confused stare he clarified, "He's just out of it, it's normal. Now let's move, we can't afford to waste time. Agumon, if you want to help Masaru, keep an eye out for enemy digimon. If you sense one we need enough of a warning or a distraction for Sunflowmon to put Masaru down so she can defend us."

"R-right!" Agumon said, and although he still looked nervous his nod was determined. This was something he did understand, and if it meant saving his partner, he'd do it and gladly.

So they started off, walking back towards the entry point they had used to begin this whole mess. Agumon darted forward and back, taking his guarding duties very seriously for once, and didn't even complain about being hungry. Yoshino followed, and kept the communicator on hand, trying it every five minutes without success. Sunflowmon flew in the middle of their little formation with her fragile burden, and Tohma stayed close by to keep an eye on his unexpected patient. Masaru wasn't causing much of a fuss now, which was both a blessing and a curse. It meant he wasn't trying to damage himself further out of sheer stupidity, but his dazed silence and tired, blank stare was more than a little unsettling. After only ten minutes Tohma was almost wishing the idiot would start giving one of his spirits and fists rants for the sake of a little normalcy.

Gaogamon met up with them about twenty minutes after they'd left the fight-clearing. The large dog was panting heavily and obviously exhausted, but he didn't complain once. Instead, he reported, "Master, I found a place meeting all of your criteria. I can lead you to it at once."

"Good," Tohma said, inwardly grateful for the first good piece of news they'd had since they got here, but not letting on externally. "We can speed up our time with this. Sunflowmon, can you carry Masaru while flying faster?"

"I think so," she said slowly. "I've had some practice now."

"Alright," he said curtly. "Then the rest of us will ride on Gaogamon to pick up the pace."

The akita digimon obligingly crouched down to allow his passengers to climb on without argument. Tohma swung up into place with the ease of much practice, digging fingers into the Adult digimon's white mane. Yoshino clambered up less gracefully behind him, holding on to the back of his jacket for balance. But Agumon said anxiously, "Can I go with Boss, on Sunflowmon's hands?"

"No," Tohma said immediately. "She doesn't have any extra room, anyway. Her hands are literally full with Masaru." And when the dinosaur still dithered worriedly, sidling towards his partner anyway, Tohma added, "Agumon, the longer you hold us up here, the less time I have to treat Masaru at the safe location Gaogamon has found."

Agumon's eyes widened at the thought, and he wasted no more time. He clambered up onto Gaogamon's back and wrapped his claws around Yoshino's waist, holding on tightly as the large akita lumbered to its feet.

"This way," he informed Sunflowmon, and then he was off again, darting through the trees. Sunflowmon kept pace easily, cradling Masaru as gently as a mother might a child despite her surprising speed through the air.

With their travel time decreasing considerably, Tohma felt at least a little better about Masaru's chances. They still weren't very high, but at least Tohma could successfully treat him as best as possible in a safe location fairly soon, and that would at least give him a little bit of an edge. And Masaru was a fighter too, in spirit as well as in body; he wouldn't give in to such an injury easily. He could make it. Maybe.

He could tell the others were trying to think positive as well, though with varying stages of success. As soon as Yoshino had gotten used to Gaogamon's running gait, she'd let go of Tohma's jacket, and used the journey to keep at that damned useless communicator. It hadn't worked, but she insisted stubbornly that the signal might get through the closer they got to their original touchdown point. Anything was possible, so Tohma didn't deter her. And Agumon was clearly doing his best to not panic over his partner's health, although he couldn't suppress the occasional whimper whenever he looked behind or alongside and caught sight of Masaru's prone form in Sunflowmon's hands. Tohma would have told him to stop looking if he was only making himself more anxious, but he honestly doubted the advice would be taken seriously anyway.

So they plowed on through the trees mostly in silence for a good ten minutes, other than the heavy, rhythmic footfalls of Gaogamon's paws as he moved steadily onward. Soon the trees began to thin out, indicating that they were reaching the edge of the wood; hopefully the shelter was nearby as well.

But Touma's grim feelings increased when Sunflowmon took advantage of the wider spaced trees and glided forward on leaf wings to flutter alongside Gaogamon, and the humans riding on his back. "Tohma," she said, "You told me to let you know if anything about Masaru changes—his bandages—"

Tohma glanced over at the body cradled carefully in her large hands. It was difficult to see clearly, moving at such a loping speed, but he frowned when he spotted it: the bandages he'd used to stop the bleeding of the wound were red and glistening. The attempt hadn't stopped the bleeding at all, or maybe it had, and the travel had just been too stressful on the wound. Whatever the case, Masaru needed attention as soon as possible. He didn't even appear fully conscious anymore—his eyes were open, but they were half-lidded, unfocused, and his skin looked too pale to be natural.

"Gaogamon, how long until we reach this location?" he questioned.

"Just a few minutes more, Master," the dog digimon responded immediately. He was panting hard, and his voice sounded raspy and tired, but as before he didn't complain.

"Hurry," Tohma said. "Masaru needs treatment immediately."

"Yes, Master," Gaogamon acknowledged, and despite his fatigue he managed to find still more strength to pour into running, picking up the pace even further. Sunflowmon soared after him, still cradling Masaru carefully.

Another five minutes passed, and then they broke out of the tree line completely into a rocky, mostly barren open area. There was a cliff a short distance away that Gaogamon was heading for unerringly, and a stream ran in front of it only a few yards away, with a few scruffy trees and bushes at its edge. As they closed in, Tohma spotted a dark crack cut into the cliff, large enough to be a cave, and realized with more than a little relief that they'd arrived at the safe location Gaogamon had scouted out.

And seconds later they were there. Gaogamon leapt lightly over the stream and landed just before the cave, before sinking flat to his belly to let his passengers off. He was panting hard, his furry chest heaving from exertion, and his tongue lolled out much like a real dog, but all he said was, "This is the place, Master."

"Good," Tohma said, as he and the others slid off. "You may return to your Child form and take a break. You've earned some rest. When you've recovered enough, start filling the canteens with water. We'll need it for disinfecting and cleaning the wounds."

"Yes, Master," his digimon acknowledged tiredly, as he shrank back into the form of Gaomon again.

Agumon had scrambled over to meet Sunflowmon as soon as he'd clambered down from Gaogamon's back, and was now anxiously gripping his partner's hand, asking his 'boss' how he was feeling. Masaru was sluggish and not really responsive. He stirred at the familiar sound of Agumon's voice, but didn't seem to comprehend the questions.

Tohma frowned at that; not a good sign. "Agumon," he said, as he walked over, "Go start collecting firewood from the trees or bushes, and get a fire lit in the cave."

"But Boss—"

"—needs you to help me out so I can treat him," Tohma interrupted, without any interest in or time for a debate. "Hurry." Agumon hesitated, brushed his claws one last time over his human's hand, and then scurried off to do his newly appointed task.

Tohma took his place, and pressed his palm carefully to Masaru's forehead, and frowned. Cooler than he should be, and his skin was pale and clammy.

The other teen shifted at the contact and frowned irritably, slurring, "Dammit, Tonma, what the hell d'you think yer doing—"

He raised one fist weakly as if to strike, his classic response to almost anything, but at this stage his sister Chika could outfight him. Tohma caught the slow punch easily, and instead of getting angry he merely unfolded his patient's fingers and felt his hands. Also too cool. Masaru's body was shutting down any peripheral systems in an effort to stretch out its life, redirecting blood to where it was needed most due to how much he'd lost.

"Let's get him inside," Tohma said crisply, gently placing Masaru's wrist back down and ignoring the teen's muttering and name-calling—for the moment.

"I can't fit in there," Sunflowmon said worriedly, which was true. The cave was comfortably large enough for humans, but certainly wouldn't fit an Adult digimon. "And if I change back to Lalamon I'll drop him."

"We'll take him," Tohma decided. "Yoshino, if you could help...take his legs, and I'll carry his upper body—"

They managed it, somehow, and carried Masaru between them into the clean, dry cave as gently as they could. For all that it was impossible not to jar his wound, and the injured DATS agent groaned in agony more than once. He was too out of it by now to remember his ridiculous pride, or that he'd been trying to suppress any evidence of pain earlier.

Yoshino winced in sympathy as they finally set him down safely inside the cave and he gasped softly, eyes rolling. Almost immediately he tried to curl over on his side, but Tohma pushed him back down firmly. Yoshino, feeling sorry for him, pulled off her uniform's jacket, folded it up, and slipped it underneath Masaru's head. It wasn't much, but it was something at least, and that, coupled with Tohma's sharp but not unkind, "Stay still," seemed enough to make him calm.

It wasn't much of a comfort. Masaru's eyes were half-lidded and glassy; his gaze flickered between the other two humans unsteadily, and he seemed to have trouble focusing. Tohma snapped his fingers in front of Masaru's face, which seemed to help a little, and ordered sternly, "Masaru, stay with us, okay? Focus."

"Not...going anywhere..." Masaru slurred after a very long pause, as if he'd had trouble understanding the question. "Stupid Tohma..."

Tohma ignored the insult—it was very easy to do, with Masaru in this state—and turned to Yoshino, saying, "Keep talking to him. Try to get him to stay focused while I get everything ready."

"What are you going to do?" Yoshino asked softly, as Lalamon, Child again, drifted into the cave and settled herself quietly in her partner's lap. Yoshino's arms curled around the digimon like a child taking comfort from a stuffed animal, and Lalamon patted her arm understandingly with one stumpy little limb.

"Whatever I can do with the supplies we have," Tohma said. "It won't be the same as surgery, but it's better than nothing. Now that we have a secure, defensible location, I can treat him better." Already he had seized their supplies backpack and removed the first aid kit, setting the items out in a careful arrangement next to Masaru as he tried to organize the procedure in his head. Based on the tools he had, how should he handle this...?

By the time he had arranged his chosen tools to his liking, the digimon had finished their tasks as well. Gaomon (still tired, but understanding the necessity of haste) had filled their canteens by the stream and returned with them promptly. Agumon had brought an enormous armful of brush into the cave, set it alight with his Baby Flame, and gone out twice more to collect extra fuel. Lalamon had taken it upon herself to oversee the boiling of the water to disinfect it and make it safe for use, and Yoshino was mostly able to holding Masaru's wavering attention, keeping him awake.

Things were as ready as they would ever be. "Gaomon, Agumon," he ordered, as he pulled on a fresh pair of clean latex gloves, "Keep guard outside the cave, just to be safe. Lalamon, if you could stay close and keep an eye on Masaru's temperature, or let me know if anything else changes, that would be a great help. Yoshino—you might as well keep trying at that communicator, just in case."

"Right," she said, looking a little relieved despite herself that she didn't have to help with the gory aspects of the treatment.

Tohma set to work, cutting away the previous soaked-through bandages and the sticky, frayed edges of Masaru's now completely destroyed uniform with the EMT shears in the kit. He frowned at the wound; it welled with fresh blood, and when he wiped away some of the red liquid it was to the sight of puckered, angry red flesh at the edges of the gash. It was already getting infected, and so quickly—but then, perhaps that wasn't surprising at all. Devidramon was a dark-alignment digimon. Who knew what its claws could do, or what they were coated in.

It wasn't a good sign, but he couldn't do anything to change what had already happened, just do what he could about stretching out Masaru's chances. He set to work cleaning the wound as best as he could, wiping away excess blood and (hopefully) any lingering contaminants from Devidramon's talon. Masaru hissed at the contact, fists clenching and eyes rolling as Tohma tampered with the sensitive injured flesh, and it turned into a gasp not long after, when he applied what antiseptic he could to combat the infection. He wished he could do something about the intestinal damage, but he didn't have the tools for it here, and it would be too dangerous to try and seriously treat them in such an unsterile environment. The cave was clean, but certainly no operating room.

When he'd done what he could for the infection, he fell back on the luckiest find in the first aid kit, and the one that would probably be responsible for saving Masaru's life if he lived at all. It was a package of hemostatic agent, designed for slowing or even stopping major blood loss. The military frequently used such agents in their field kits. Tohma could tell at a glance that this brand was less effective than those, meant more for household or office accidents than gaping stomach wounds, but it was all they had and worth a shot.

"This might burn a little," he warned Masaru quickly. The other teen didn't respond, but Tohma wasn't really expecting him to anyway, and began administering the hemostatic agent after carefully wiping down the wound once more. He poured it into the wound slowly, and was relieved to see it responding straight away, encouraging the blood to clot. Masaru hissed in discomfort, but Tohma ignored him and kept at it until the wound had been mostly filled, and then pressed gauze to the gash. With a little help from Lalamon, he was able to keep pressure on the injury while re-binding it with fresh bandages, until the wound was once more wrapped up and hidden neatly from view, without any tell-tale bloodstains.

They moved Masaru to a less sticky section of the cave floor, closer to the fire. In the cast light of the flames he looked a little better, but not by much. His skin was still far too pale and clammy, his limbs too cool, and his eyes remained half-lidded and glazed. Tohma checked his pulse, but it was weak and thready, which was not a good sign. His breathing was quick and shallow as well, likely just as much from his cracked ribs as from the blood loss—there was nothing Tohma could do to treat the ribs at all, which unfortunately meant Masaru would just have to deal with the discomfort. Their only concession was that they seemed to have at least slowed if not stopped the major bleeding, since the bandages remained pristine white.

Tohma hoped it would be enough. Even if Masaru did make it through this, it would almost certainly be close. As it was, he still could not honestly be sure of his fellow agent's survival. He might have lost too much blood already, and there was no way to replace the fluids. He couldn't even let Masaru drink some of the water, assuming they could coax him into coherency long enough to manage it anyway; with intestinal damage it was too much of a risk. Not only that, but the threats from toxins were almost guaranteed depending on how far the intestinal damage had gone, and infection had already begun. He was confident that he'd done everything he could in this situation to help his friend, but he still wasn't certain it was enough.

Hopefully Masaru has got enough fighting spirit to earn himself a medical miracle, Tohma thought grimly.

At this point, it was all they could hope for.

And another chapter down.

~VelkynKarma