commander

abort

Torra

"Excuse us." I said to Joseph and the rest of the table. Standing up, I realized the only thing concealing my . . . injury were the dark pants I was wearing.

"Where are you going?" Joseph asked firmly.

"I said excuse us." I forced. Torra pulled my arm over his shoulder and helped me limp back to my room. After passing the curtain, I slid the door shut, and latched it, making sure that Joseph or Jonah or anyone else could follow me. Something in me stabbed deeper, and I whimpered and fell. Groaning, I grabbed at my own skin, hoping to tear it apart and stop my own pain.

"Nala, you have to get up." Torra advised. "I know you can. Rimona will be here soon, we'll wait in your room." He wiped the tear rolling down my cheek and grabbed my hands from my stomach. "Bowie!" Torra yelled and unlatched the sliding door. Bowie quickly ran in, immediately surprised by me, curled on the floor. "Help her up. She has to get to her room." Torra and Bowie each took one of my hands, standing me up and walking me to the winding staircase. I limped awkwardly, barely walking as Torra and Bowie were my only crutches.

As my legs began to give out, my nerves almost shot, Torra and Bowie dragged me around a corner to show up in front of my bedroom door. I drew my arms from Bowie and pulled the chain around my neck over my head. Bowie took the chain and key, unlocking the door and holding it open for me. My bed had never before looked so inviting. Torra helped me limp to the bed and sat me down.

"What's wrong?" Torra asked. I can not help but be bothered at how vulnerable I had become in front of him. The awkward intimacy of him watching me cry on the ground. He practically carried me to my room.

"Can you find Sasha and Andi?" I asked, my voice disgustingly genuine. He thought we were getting closer again. I thought we were getting closer again.

"Bowie?" Torra asked, making a clear attempt not to leave me alone. The stabbing feeling in my stomach had restarted and intensified, now deciding not to stop. Not even instinctually, I grabbed Torra's hand, our connection not nearly the biggest problem on hand. My head lolled around, my legs tensed and I probably broke Torra's fingers. Andi and Sasha came bursting through the door, taking ten feet per step. I sat near the edge of the bed, my pillows quickly replaced by Andi's lap.

While Andi calmly combed my hair, Rimona ran through the door. She began quickly picking through her medical tools, though another doctor pulled Rimona aside. I could Sasha's face turn grim. "What is it?" I struggled.

"She brought other doctors." Sasha pointed out the obvious, something I am shamefully afraid of. Rimona could handle me fainting and almost drowning but not this. Rimona grabbed a large but scrappy blanket and laid it down under my leg. I knew whatever the was, it would be messy.

Someone, I don't know, or care who, threw a cloth over my legs for . . . privacy. Rimona got two knives strapped together, something I believe Sasha called 'scissors', and cut my pants off. I honestly preferred it than to stand up and doing myself. Rimona pulled of the scrap fabric and cut at my shorts under the pants.

"Are you alright?" Rimona asked. It was obviously stupid. There was blood running down my leg. I'm pretty sure I was crying too. I can't remember the last time I cried. Probably when Elliot told me about my (supposedly) dead mother in the Bunker.

Instead of receiving a proper sentence for an answer, a loud spurt of groaning seemed more than adequate. "This is going to hurt." Rimona warned.

"It already does." I said in Primospek, a little louder than I'd like. Torra squeezed my hand, and for a moment, I didn't feel entirely horrid. Deja vu took over my mind, Torra tracing the planets on my back. For just a second, I stopped groaning. Something had stopped. "What did you do?" I propped myself up on my elbows, trying to look at Rimona over the cloth.