Short fic writing trip

Adoption fic 8

At what point do i take this out and make the actual book? Like all the other projects "ended" at 10 but i feel like ill be coming back to this more because my physics studio partner keeps asking me how the story's going and i keep spitballing plot threads. If they keep asking i might actually make a new book, but i feel like that's a curse on my page (old followers know this plague) so i wont do it until i know i can get at least 20 chaps out, but we'll see, the first few are more befitting this book but the longer this goes the more properly story like this becomes. Idk lets fuck around and find out.

Frank expected many things to happen today; the flood of people making their way to the stage, the 4 bands and artists to kill it before My Chem, the set list to change mid show, him to probably injure someone with his running around the stage, and maybe saying hi to that Sis girl that's been growing on him over the weekend. He still didn't get that name, who names their kid after a familial title? Unless it was some cultural name, which then he had no right to judge, because Frank is about as Italian as it gets so he can't say anything. There was a dozen things he expected to happen as he walked with his band behind stage.

Seeing Sis passed out underneath the stage right stairs, beaten half to death and a small patch of grass stained red with blood, was absolutely not one of them.

He feels guilty for saying he hadn't noticed her at first. Black hair, black clothes, hidden in the black shadows behind a black stage, it's like the world's worst game of Where's Waldo.  It took Ray pointing it out to him to even notice anything was amiss, assuming it was actually a pile of clothes someone left and, knowing how forgetful Frank can be, was probably his.

He grabbed the sleeve of the jacket on top only to notice there was a still a body inside of it, so he rolled it over to see the face he'd been hoping to scan the crowds for bruised and swollen. He wasn't supposed to find her like this.

What the fuck happened?

Panic began rising to his throat as he tried shaking her awake, receiving not even a groan or eye twitch. He held his hand under her nose, relief flooding his system at the cool air of a faint breath. At least she was still alive. Frank was pretty sure people in L.A. could hear his neck crack with his head whipping so fast looking for the on site paramedics. He didn't want to leave the kid but if she made it through the night she should be able to hold on for the 5 minutes it'd take him to get help.

The parting of the scattered people around the venue was closer to a forest trail than a ocean, thin and still a bit of a tripping hazard, but the paramedic team was able to follow Frank to the injured girl and begin assessing and treating the most obvious injuries.

"She's gonna need a hospital, we can only treat superficial damage, we can't assess internal injuries on site. You said you just found her here? Does she have an ID?" A sandy blonde man stood before Frank, recounting what was already a pretty grizzly scene as something probably much worse.

Frank shook his head, bouncing his leg as he stood, squeamish watching the others work. "I don't know, it doesn't sound like it from what I heard. Will she be okay?"

The man sighed, "Can't say yet, we don't have the full diagnosis. But I can assure you we'll make sure she gets taken care of."

The next ten minutes were the most tense and lengthy minutes Frank had ever experienced, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, watching the team try to treat what they can, and the sudden crowd of crew and artists alike gathering to observe the scene. He was just glad none of the public could get back here and make the crowd worse. Finally the sharp drone of sirens came closer and he watched with the others as Sis was lifted onto a stretcher and wheeled into the boxy vehicle. It took every ounce of will to not follow, for he still had a job to do. Doesn't mean he wont bolt out as soon as his set is done.