Against the clock

14.

The sharp pain in my thigh ripped through me as I stumbled backward, a gasp escaping my lips. My hands instinctively pressed against the wound, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. The world blurred around me, and the haunting echoes of the gunshot still reverberated in the air.

Before I could fully comprehend what had happened, hands grabbed my arms. The captor, fueled by a twisted determination, grabbed me, his fingers digging into my injured flesh. I winced, the pain intensifying, and he hurled me back into the cold, unforgiving cell.

The impact jarred my already wounded thigh, and I cried out in agony as I collided with the hard floor. Derek's name echoed in my mind, a silent plea for him to come to my rescue. The door slammed shut, trapping me in darkness once again.

Derek's eyes, filled with concern and a fiery determination, met mine as he rushed to my side. His hands gently but urgently assessed the wound, fingers probing the source of the bleeding. I hissed through clenched teeth, the pain radiating from the gunshot wound. 'We need to stop the bleeding,' Derek's voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the worry he felt. He tore a strip of cloth from his own shirt and improvised a makeshift bandage. As he applied pressure to the wound, I gritted my teeth, fighting against the waves of pain.

I focused on his eyes, seeking solace in the depths of his unwavering gaze. 'We need to get you out of here,' Derek murmured, his voice a low, determined rumble. His arms encircled me, lifting me gently from the cold floor. The pain flared as he moved me, but I clung to the knowledge that his strength was my anchor in this nightmarish storm. 'She has to get out of here!' Derek yelled towards the microphone. 'Give me some gauze or something!' he yelled.

The harsh metallic scraping of the cell door being yanked open filled the air. A small bundle of towels were thrown into the cell. Derek's eyes never left mine as he swiftly gathered the supplies, his movements purposeful and efficient. Gently laying me down on the cold floor, Derek began the meticulous process of tending to my gunshot wound. Each touch of his hands on my skin sent shivers through me, a strange mixture of pain and comfort. I moaned softly, unable to contain the sounds of distress escaping my lips. 'I'm here, Meredith,' Derek reassured me, his voice a soothing balm amidst the chaos. His fingers worked skillfully, securing the makeshift bandage in place. The pain gradually subsided to a dull ache as he continued to tend to the wound. I clung to his presence, finding solace in the midst of this ordeal.

His eyes met mine, a mix of concern and determination etched in their depths. 'You're lucky it's in your thigh,' he remarked, his voice a low murmur, his gaze momentarily leaving the injury to connect with my eyes. A bitter chuckle escaped my lips, muffled by the pain that radiated through my body. 'I don't feel lucky,' I replied, my voice hoarse with the strain of the ordeal. 'It will bleed a lot, but it won't kill you' he remarked.

I managed a weak smile, my voice strained as I responded, 'If it doesn't get infected.' The gravity of our situation lingered in the air, but Derek's presence provided a fleeting sense of comfort. As he secured the bandage in place, he spoke with a quiet resolve, 'We'll do our best to keep it clean.' I nodded in acknowledgment and added, 'So, he doesn't want me dead. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered throwing these bandages.' Derek continued applying pressure to the wound, his expression focused. 'These towels aren't doing much. It keeps bleeding.'

The voice, cold and detached, cut in with a chilling reminder, 'Not yet dead.' The ominous words echoed in the confined space, a stark reminder of the perilous game we were ensnared in. 'This won't kill you. It will bleed and hurt, but it won't kill you' he said, reassuring me. I felt the towel on my leg, completely drenged with blood. With a sense of urgency, Derek's eyes met mine, conveying a silent plea for understanding. 'Meredith, I need you to brace yourself. This might hurt even more,' he warned, his voice carrying a mixture of apology and determination. I nodded, a grim acceptance settling over me as I mentally prepared for what was to come.