Bond in Blood

Chapter 3 - Allargando

A/N: Russian translations may be off, I do not know what I am saying! Potential medical inaccuracies as well. TW: Lots of non-consensual drugging in this one.

I was shaken awake when the sun was already nearly halfway through the sky. My whole body felt heavy, like somebody had tied hundred pound weights to each of my limbs. I was stiff too, more than likely from staying in one position for such a long time. My eyes opened and closed, too weak to hold themselves open for longer than a few seconds.

Antony came into view, his eyebrows cinched. "It's late, we've got to go." He pulled me into an upright position. "Val is gonna flip his shit, you've got to get up and get ready." I groaned, trying to hold myself up but failing. My wrist, which Peter had grabbed so tightly the night before, was completely useless, purple with bruising. Antony sighed, as if it was such an inconvenience that they had drugged me to sleep the night before. "Come on. Lean on me."

"I-ugh." I felt nauseous. He had yanked me to my feet far too fast. I closed my eyes again, just to keep the world from spinning. "Slow down. Please." I pleaded, my good fingers gripped at his shirt sleeve, trying desperately to steady myself. Antony helped me sit back down on the bed, letting me wobble back and forth as I fought to not puke.

"Okay. Just like breathe or something." He patted my back awkwardly. My head collapsed forward, my muscles too relaxed to be of much help.

"Is she up?" A voice called.

"Working on it!" Antony called back. I closed my eyes again hoping I could just go back to sleep and not think about whatever was going on right now. "Stay with me, okay? You've just gotta get dressed. Then you can go right to sleep again."

"Ugh."

"Yeah I know." He put my arm around his shoulder and hoisted me to my feet. I fought back more nausea. "Okay. We're walking. Just going to the bathroom. Just gonna go 20 feet. You can do twenty feet." I wasn't walking. My brain and my legs weren't connected. I was dragged onto the cool tile and dropped unceremoniously onto the ground.

"God, Antony, we give you one job-." Peter walked in just as I slid face first onto the floor. "Oh, Karina." He sighed and crouched in front of me. "What a mess." He tapped my forehead a few times and stood up again with a groan. "You gave her too much, Alex." He called.

"No way." Alex said, walking in to join the audience staring at me in my lethargic state. "Oh. Yeah, maybe." He crouched in front of me. "Oh, рыбка, what are we going to do here?"

(term of endearment, sweetie)

"We've got to postpone the flight, she can't be seen like this." Peter tapped something into his phone. I closed my eyes again, letting the coolness of the marble tile ease my nausea. "Where's Val? We can't leave."

"What's this?" Alex asked, grabbing my purple wrist. He must have been trying to check my pulse. "Peter, did you do this?" I tried to signal that whatever he was doing hurt an insane amount.

"Shit yeah. Sorry Karina." I closed my eyes again, avoiding their gaze. It was so loud so early in the morning. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

Alex scoffed. "Fucker." He touched the area. "I doubt it's broken. We'll check it out tomorrow though." He tapped my forehead. "Can you hear me?" Alex asked, his fingers on my pulse. I groaned in response. "I know, Родная, I know. At least you're responsive, huh?"

(Term of endearment, my dear)

"What are we going to do?" Peter groaned, frantically tapping his forehead as if that would give him ideas.

"Can't I just carry her onto the plane?"

"She's sixteen you fucking idiot. No." Peter snapped. "I'm gonna make a few calls. Try and get her up." He left the room. I tried to open my eyes again, managing a Clint Eastwood squint.