"-Chen! Answer me. Lucy!"
Lucy peeled her eyes open with all the strength she could muster. With delayed alarm, she found her lungs dangerously empty and she sucked in a deep breath. Her throat instantly rejected the thick air, hurling her into a fit of harsh coughing.
As she jolted with the hacks, the world shifted around her. Lucy forced herself to swallow the fit and she reduced to pained wheezes. Only then did she hear the voice calling out to her again.
"Don't move! Chen? Lucy, are you okay?"
She knew that voice. Tim's voice.
"I think so," Lucy replied, wincing at how thick and raspy her voice sounded. She tried to crane her neck to see him but there was too much in the way. Hold on… what exactly was in the way?
Lucy's eyes darted around the dusty area. It looked like nothing but a jumbled mess– a mess of charred wood and mangled metal and shattered glass. When she looked down at herself she grew suddenly aware of the pressure weighing down her legs, abdomen, and one arm.
She tried to breathe again, and between the thick air reeking with smoke and the debris crushing her lungs, she couldn't. She was suffocating, and the more she tried to breathe the harder it became.
"T-tim," Lucy said in a strangled cry. "Tim!"
"I'm here, Boot," Tim said from the other side of the wall of debris. "Everything's going to be fine."
"N-no, I can't– can't b-breathe," Lucy shuddered. "I'm dying."
"You're not dying," Tim told her sternly. "I promise you can breathe, you have been breathing this whole time. Okay? Just try to take a slow breath."
Lucy could hear him blowing air in and out loudly, trying to direct her into steadying her breaths.
After the seconds stretched into minutes, Tim asked. "Boot? How you holding up?"
"Better," Lucy said, but it sounded terribly weak.
"Good," Tim hesitated. "Do you remember what happened?"
"I, uh," Lucy wracked her brain, the memories making her dizzy, "...an explosion?"
"Yeah."
"A bomb… we were getting people out, bomb squad didn't make it… it detonated?"
"You remember," Tim puffed out a slow breath. "That's good."
Lucy shut her eyes, the images of the previous events spinning the world too quickly and swirling her stomach.
She remembered the shaking of the ground and Tim's frantic yells drowned out by the bone-rattling boom. She remembered shoving someone… she couldn't remember who, and then– nothing.
"Hey, Chen, stay with me," Tim urged, and she swore he sounded further away.
"I am," Lucy said. "Just thinking."
"Keep your eyes open," Tim ordered.
Lucy obeyed and blinked a few times, coughing at the dust again. Though the coughs weren't as violent, each one sent pain shooting through her, especially in her chest. With a groan, she tried to shift to alleviate the pain, and the world scraped around her, kicking up even more dust for her to cough at.
"Whoah, whoah, whoah!" Tim shouted over her commotion.
Lucy wheezed and swallowed thickly. Every moment woke her a little more, which in turn brought the ghost of pain worsening by the second.
"Don't move," Tim said, voice dangerously low and cautious. "Not one muscle. You hear me Chen?"
"Uh-huh," she said, fighting the urge to squirm.
"Rescue's almost over to dig you out, okay? Until then, you're completely still. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," Lucy huffed.
The silence stretched out for a moment as Lucy focused on trying to breathe.
"Chen, you still with me?"
She frowned. It hadn't been that long, and she'd always pegged Tim as someone who would be more composed in a situation like this.
But the next thing she knew, he was calling her name frantically. When had he started?
"I'm awake," Lucy said, the words surprisingly difficult to form. Tim's echoing voice slammed into her eardrums, pricking her head with a million giant needles.
She heard Tim's breath of relief. The next moment, he spiraled into rambling about something she couldn't quite register. He was talking too fast for her lethargic mind, words blurring. She lost track of time.
Was it a few minutes? An hour? She blinked and the rescue crew appeared beside her, startling her.
A woman clad in a paramedic uniform leaned into her face, lips moving but producing no sound. Lucy squinted, trying to read her lips. She only caught a few words that, strung together, made no sense.
She then registered the shifting around her. It wasn't all the debris, just the pile she was buried beneath. Slowly, painstakingly, and yet in no time at all, the team scraped away the debris. And with each bit removed, more pain rattled through her.
A sharp sound pierced her head like knives stabbing her temples, and she only realized it was her own screams when they began to tear at her throat. There was pain, so much pain, and so much noise. Rattling, shouting, screaming. Was it still her?
If she thought her stomach was swirling before, her insides were a tornado now. With every violent jolt of pain, she fought harder against the urge to spill her guts. More pain, more pathetic cries, more shouting, and more pain, more pain, pain, pain, pain–
Despite the paramedic's attempts to hold her down, Lucy jerked upright, twisted, and vomited. The sounds of her heaves muddled the rest of the world, and when she finished, her vision blurred. She blinked but it only made it worse.
The colors began morphing. Lights colors went dark and darks turned neon. Lucy's muscles were giving out, slackening against her will, and all sounds melted into one sharp ringing.
The procession of colors finally bled together into a pitch darkness and the ringing faded away, dragging her under to a place of peaceful numbness.
Lucy felt like she was floating.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
And yet at the same time, may have been made of pure lead.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Her eyes were the heaviest, and she knew trying to peel them open would be futile.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Something twitched around her hand. Warmth puffed over her arm nearest her elbow in slow, even repetitions: the tiny burst of warmth gradually reduced to coldness. Then another tiny burst.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
For a moment, she didn't know what the warmth was and wanted to jerk her hand away. But she didn't have enough energy.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Sucking in a deep breath, she felt a little stronger and attempted the great feat of opening her eyes.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Her eyelashes twitched, then her lids flickered open and fluttered. Opening them was surprisingly easy, but what alarmed her was she still couldn't see.
I'm blind, was all she could think. Rivets of fear danced through her like deadly electricity and she responded with a jerk, yanking her hand away from whatever held it captive. She brought both hands up to her face out of instinct but someone caught them before she could make contact.
She jerked again with surprise, trying to wrestle herself hands free, and hardly registered the voice calling out to her.
"-Lucy."
She froze at the sound of her name whispered right beside her ear, the same puff of warmth grazing her skin. Something snapped up from around the back of her head and dragged up from her eyes, a burst of light blinding her.
Lucy tried to cover her eyes but once again her hands were caught. She would've whipped away if she couldn't see. But she could see.
And she saw Tim, his fingers wrapped tightly around her wrists and his icy blue eyes staring into hers.
"Chen? You with me again?" he said softly.
Lucy nodded, the idea of forming words mind-boggling. The frantically beeping heart monitor calmed as Tim lowered her arms to her side.
"Careful," Tim warned. "You'll rip out an IV. No more jumping around, that's an order."
She went to say "yes sir" but realized there was an oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose. She must be really out of it if she hadn't realized that yet. Lucy reached up to pull it off, but Tim stopped her.
"What did I just say, Boot? Keep your arms where they're at, you will not be ripping out any IVs on my watch."
Lucy rolled her eyes. She brought up the arm that didn't have an IV attached and tugged the mask away. "What–" her voice gave an ugly crack, "what was that? On my eyes."
"Blindfold," said Tim, fingering it where he'd discarded it earlier. "You got a nasty concussion, and the lights were bugging you."
Lucy squinted. "I… don't remember."
"You were pretty high on painkillers," Tim said nonchalantly, "and I'm pretty sure you're glad you don't remember. The things you were saying…." He trailed off, smirking at her in an almost prideful way.
The gears started spinning in Lucy's head. What could she have said? And who heard it? There you go, Luce, embarrassing yourself yet again.
"Now," Tim said before her thoughts could spiral out of control. "You put this back on–" he pressed the oxygen mask back over her mouth and nose, "- and you get some rest."
She began to protest but Tim stopped her before she could even get a word out.
"That's an order, Boot. Lay down and go to sleep."
Now she just felt like a child, especially as Tim helped her shift back into a comfortable laying position.
A new thought sprouted in her mind and she whipped a hand up to rip the mask off before Tim could stop her again.
"The bomb. I never saw if everyone got out," Lucy whispered, almost afraid to ask. "Fatalities?"
"None," Tim said, adjusting her oxygen mask so it was back in place. "Some are pretty bad off, though. They're all in here, though, and if all goes well they'll all recover."
Lucy released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She moved her hand upward and Tim caught her wrist this time.
"If you're a good little boot and go to sleep, maybe we can take you to see some of them later. One or two already requested to see you."
Lucy rolled her eyes at him.
"C'mon, Chen, how do you expect to get better if you don't rest?" Tim urged.
Lucy sighed. She was tired, but it dawned on her that if she closed her eyes, she might see the bomb again, dream of the explosion, and relive the torturous time of being pinned beneath the rubble.
"I'm here, Chen, I'm not gonna leave, okay?" Tim murmured, his voice softer than Lucy ever imagined it could be. "You can sleep, nothing's going to happen. I'll be here when you wake up."
And Lucy's eyes finally slid shut.
