Bloodguilty // FIVE HARGREEVES

17. Never Really Gone, Right?

Elisa is still breathing, but barely. She can still hear the screams and quick, running footsteps, but she simply doesn't care. Her eyes stay close, and she's calmer than she's ever been before—more at home than she's ever been before.

The darkness has a certain calmness that claims her entirely, and she doesn't panic when it makes sure the pain disappears. Now, she feels nothing, worries about nothing . . . and soon she'll stop hearing the sounds, too.

"Open your eyes." A command sounds, and Elisa barely realizes it is an order for her to follow. She doesn't, unable to function properly anymore. "For God's sake, Elisa. Don't leave like this."

Elisa remains still. The voice is a familiar one indeed. It is the one that's been throwing around orders for minutes—or hours, Elisa can't be sure.

"No," the voice says. "I won't let this be your end. It might be the most selfish thing ever, but get your ass up. This isn't the end. Do you hear me, Elisa?"

When she doesn't answer, the voice swears so many times that Elisa loses track of it. The voice fades away—everything does.

"Vanya!" the voice screams for help. "Her breathing! She's barely breathing, Vanya!" For a second, Elisa feels pressure on her pulse. She feels the person's skin touching her. And that touch . . .

"Keep talking to her," a female voice orders. Elisa supposes it is the Vanya the other person is talking about. She wonders how it is possible to command someone in such a soft voice, but the other person listens, and he starts to talk to Elisa again.

"She isn't responding."

"Then make her respond, Five," the female snaps. There goes the soft voice, Elisa thinks bitterly. "She can't die on us! She just can't . . . "

"Don't you think I know that?" Now, the male is full on sobbing, and Elisa wants to reach out, and tell him it is okay. She wants to say that the darkness is her home now; there's no pain, no pressure. There's silence and more, but Elisa isn't sure what to think of the flashy light that's slowly appearing.

But the cries still sound. Even when the light is so close, Elisa refuses to let it take her—wherever it leads to. She won't leave people worrying about her—whoever they are. They need to know she's okay.

"Okay," she finally manages to whisper. The words are whispered quietly, and perhaps too quietly for the persons around her to hear, but at least she tried.

"Elisa?" It is the male's voice. "Please—please open your eyes, Elisa."

"Can't," Elisa murmurs. "It's nice here."

"I believe you, Elisa," the male whispers. Slowly, her senses return to her because she feels a warm breath on her face. She assumes it is the man. "But don't leave us just yet. We need you!"

"We?"

"You know, my siblings and I," the man responds, his fingers still around her pulse. When Elisa doesn't react, he says, "Vanya, Luther, Allison, Klaus, Diego, and I."

All names sound familiar but Diego. . . That name . . .

"Diego," she says weakly, hearing the voices more clearly now.

"Yes, yes. Diego. There's a doctor with him now."

Diego, she thinks again. Diego.

The calmness disappears. The sounds return fully to her, and worry floods her once again. When she remembers Diego's blood soaked costume again, her eyes fly right open.

And the voice next to her . . . It belonged to Five. And  even though she hates him for doubting her, for not being there when she needed his support and presence most, she looks at him first. He looks all right. There's some blood smeared on him, but with the current situation, that is no surprise. For checking on him, Elisa hates herself.