Bridging Destinies

Chapter 50: Two Days Too Many

I heard Yoongi's question, followed by Namjoon's response and fought to stay awake. My thoughts were scattered, and my focus was on the more serious wound and what steps were needed to insure my survival. Through the centuries the lessons had been ingrained within me. One, avoid any government or institution that could discover the truth of what I was, two, get to a safe place and three, contact home. These were imperative, but shock, the loss of blood and pain clouded my mind. I knew the wound was deep. I knew it had partially damaged my liver, and I knew that I could potentially die. I could not maintain the glamour I had around me almost perpetually and my natural state showed through, as my focus faded in and out with the ebb and flow of my struggle to keep my faculties intact.

"What?" I cried out weakly, in response to the words between them, "No. Joon-ah, they cannot help me, and if they find out what I am..." My voice trailed off, and I took as deep a breath as my wounds would allow, attempting to steady myself. I completely released my glamour to focus my attention on speaking, "I cannot." I reiterated and shook my head slightly, "My phone. It's in my bag. Call home, instead." I told Namjoon, and he looked at me in surprise, but settled me gently against the leather to reach for my bag. I felt the car stop, Yoongi appearing to wait, while Namjoon searched for my phone. I glanced at the other man, as he turned in his seat watching us with his customary blank expression on his face. He stared at me, taking in my inhuman features, then turned back around to look through the front of the vehicle.

Namjoon pulled my phone from my bag and opened the contacts looking through the phone to find anything that said home. I would have laughed if I wasn't fighting for my life, and instead softly stopped his fingers from moving through the app. "No, Joon-ah. It's not in there. Type this number out." I explained and he moved his fingers through the app, looking for the keyboard to dial out. I spoke, calling out the numbers to him, sparingly, punching out each sound with an unsteady breath. When the phone began to ring, he put it on speaker, waiting for the call to connect.

~~~

On the fifth ring, the call connected and a concise voice answered in a language Namjoon did not easily recognize but had occasionally heard from his lover's lips. He knew it must be her native language. Not understanding the words, he chose to speak in English, assuming the person probably understood it, "Hello." He said, "Is this Felina's home?" He asked cautiously.

There was a deep pause when a voice sparingly responded in accented English, "Who is this?" It asked, ignoring the question and responding with one of its own. The voice was male and there was a mix of voices in the background, discreet and sporadic.

"Um. I'm her boyfriend. She's with me, but she's hurt." He said, "I think it's bad, too." He told the other male on the phone. The response wasn't immediate, and he waited for a few seconds before he spoke again. "Hello? Are you there?"

"We are here." Said a new voice, clearly that of a woman, on the other end of the line, "How was she hurt?" She asked.

Felina spoke in a breathy, barely audible voice, "Far... Fenestra, knife. It was a knife." She stated.

"A knife." Came the answer spoken succinctly, "In the side? Your right side?"

"Yes." Namjoon answered for Felina. "It is kinda deep, but she wouldn't let me remove it. The knife is still in her side."

"Good. She could have bled out, but the metal will burn her. So, also not good. Felina. We will send someone. Your," The voice paused, "Your son? He says it is serious."

"It is." Felina breathed, "My liver. I think the knife damaged my liver."

Namjoon looked at the prone woman, his expression betraying his fear and gulped. He looked back at the phone, as if he could see through it, "Fenestra, is it? Nice to meet you." He rushed his words, as he attempted to make a personal connection with the woman, observing the niceties, but driven to get to the meat of what he needed. He endured, "Uh. We tried to take her to the hospital, but she wouldn't let us. Is there something else or someone else that can help before you get here?"

"We?" Said the woman on the other side of the line, "Whom is 'we'?" She asked, "Your friend? You are this Namjoon I have heard spoken of? And your friend is?"

Blinking twice rapidly Namjoon spoke again, "He's my band mate. He can be trusted." He told her, "Is there something we can do until you get here? And how long will it take? Where are you now?"

~~~

I grimaced at Namjoon's questions. Such queries, I knew, would not be answered, and I intervened, building my scant breath as I tried to sit up to gather more air into my lungs, "We will wait for you." I spoke sparingly and carefully in English, then switched to my native tongue, "My energy is low and I cannot speak well or keep my glamour. I am exposed and had to call. I can hear you. My mind is open, but I cannot project it to speak in our way, though you may be able to catch my thoughts, even so. These two here may be trusted, and as I've gotten to know the others, I expect his brothers can be as well."

There was a silence that seemed to stretch out into minutes. Yoongi asked Namjoon, speaking in Korean, "Where should we go, then?"

Fenestra acknowledged the question and spoke directly, through the phone, to Yoongi, responding in the same language, "There is a dorm where you all live, yes? Go there. Others of us will meet you there as soon as we may. Two days, at the most."

Namjoon gasped, switching back to Korean, "Two days! What if she dies by then? Felina!" He looked at me, his eyes widening in panic, then peered back at the phone, "Can you make it quicker?" He asked, his voice harsh.

"If we can." was the answer, "We will." She retorted, speaking with authority. "Young man. She is one of our own, and we will do our best. Peace. I know you care for her, so still your racing heart and know we will not leave her to rot. We will save her." She finished.

Yoongi snorted sarcastically, "Sounds comforting." I wanted to laugh, but could not and closed my eyes tiredly.

Ignoring Yoongi, Namjoon frowned at the phone and slowly nodded as if she could see him, unconvinced, "Okay. The dorm then. Shit. We are going to have to keep this from Sejin." He exclaimed.

"Who is Sejin?" Asked the voice through the phone.

Yoongi answered for Namjoon, "He's our manager and he sometimes checks in on us, but I think we can do it. I'm more worried about the guys."

I croaked weakly, joining back into the conversation, my eyes still closed, "The guys will not be a problem."

"The dorm then." Namjoon stated to his friend, as Yoongi started the vehicle back up. He spoke into the phone, "We will wait for you. If you can do it, please, please hurry."

"We will." Fenestra answered and the line went dead.