Lost

2

Clary walked for hours. There was nowhere to go. Nothing to do. She was lost. Broken. Sad. Mad. Hurt. Again. She cringed. Kneeling in pain, she placed her hand on her chest, feeling the pain of her heart hurt worse than ever. She had no one to help her get rid of that pain. No one. They were all gone. Her family, her friends, everyone. She didn't have anyone anymore. They were dead.

She cringed as she slowly stood up. To her left, a cliff. To her right, a cliff. She stood on a small platform of rocks above a canyon. Two bases on each side. A crashed ship in the middle. Clary rolled her eyes and jumped. Bad mistake. She landed on her feet but had to drop to one knee on the ground, leaning her elbow on that knee. She held back a yelp and held her wrist and side.

The pain was unbearable for her. She couldn't see. Black spots dancing in her vision. She tried getting up, but made her head spin. Leaning on a wall was her only support. She didn't know if there was anyone here or not. If there was, she needed food and water fast. The black spots left her vision slowly. She tried walking towards a base. It failed. For the twentieth time that day, she tripped on her feet... and caught herself with her broken wrist.

She yelped. Laying one her back - holding her wrist- she closed her eyes. Her breath was in short, ragged, hurtful breaths. She couldn't bear it anymore. Shouting from a distance caught her attention. She opened her eyes and looked to her left. Someone in a Mark V silver tinted gold armor set ran over. They kneeled next to her and put a arm under her knees and mid-back, carrying her to a base. She tried keeping her eyes open, but they slipped shut in pain.

At least she learned the soldiers name...

Wash...

~~~~~~

Agent Washington carried the girl to the base. Her eyes slipped shut, breathing slowed even more. He cursed under his breath and placed her in a bedroom. Bleach blonde hair was stained in blood. Her face, once beautiful, was bloody with many cuts. He still thought she was beautiful. She fought for a while. Long enough to find a way here. Wash left the room quickly and ran into Tucker. He didn't have time to argue.

"Find Doc, fast." He ordered, getting up.

"Why?" Tucker asked.

"Girl, hurt, near death, starving, dehydrated, broken bones. Get him NOW." He rushed back to the room with the girl in it.

He knelt next to her and tried to find a pulse from her neck. He felt it. But it was slow. Dangerously slow.

Ba....dump....ba......dump......ba.........dump.........

Then it stopped. Wash panicked. Doc rushed in with Tucker. He knelt next to her and felt her pulse.

"CPR." He said.

"What?" Tucker asked.

"CPR. It's where you can try and bring someone who recently died back. Wash," He looked up. "Take off her armor, please."

Wash did as he was asked. The girl wore clothing, but there were parts of it shredded. The used-to-be bright blue shirt was now a dark blue stained with more blood. Cuts in areas on the shirt showed skin. Bloody skin. Her jeans were ripped at the knees, ankles, and mid-calf.

"Place both your hands on her chest where her heart should be." Doc said.

Wash did just that. Tucker watched, fear in his eyes.

"Now just push down on her chest in small a pattern. Try to get the heart going with your rhythm." He instructed.

While Doc was getting supplies from his medical bag, Wash was pushing on her chest in a slow pattern. He didn't know for how long, but he needed her alive. He wouldn't forgive himself. It wasn't his fault she's dead, or that she was hurt badly. It's his fault he wasn't there fast enough. While he was running with her, he looked down into her ocean blue eyes. Fear, and hurt filled them. But what made him rush was the look of giving up written on her face. She didn't want to keep going. She wanted to give up. He couldn't let that happen. He was determined to bring her back, for her to live. He didn't give up. He didn't want her to give up. She reminded him of a girl he dated. She was very shy, insecure, and hurt. Cuts lined her arms. She wanted to give up. She wanted to leave the world. She wanted to die. He wouldn't let her. He felt bad for her. No one deserved to feel the way she did. He dated her for a few years. She was happy for the first time. Then, one day when she walked into class, a boy got up a shoved her out of the way. She fell, her books showering down around her. He tried helping her but, she ran out of class. Wash followed her home, and found her dead. Hung herself. He wouldn't let that happen to this girl.

Her breathing slowly came back, along with her heartbeat. Slow and steady heartbeat. He smiled. Tucker chuckled. Doc placed and I.V. in her arm and hooked a heart monitor up to her. Small short beeps rang throughout the room.

"Come on, Wash. Let her sleep." Tucker called, leaving the room.

"I'll keep an eye on her." He replied. "You guys can go."

Tucker shrugged and closed the door. Wash sighed. He sat down in a chair leaned up against the wall. He looked up at the ceiling.

Please be alright. He thought. Please...