The air in the sinkhole felt suffocating as Arizona knelt beside Y/n, her hands slick with blood. She pressed down harder on the tourniquet, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, but the blood still seeped through her fingers. Y/n's body was cold, pale, and trembling, her breaths shallow. Every second felt like a ticking clock, a countdown to something Arizona couldn't afford to let happen.
"Stay with me," Arizona whispered, her voice trembling but firm as she wiped the sweat and tears from her face. Y/n's eyes fluttered, her face contorted in agony, and Arizona's heart ached with every labored breath Y/n took.
Her gaze darted around the debris, searching for anything she could use to reinforce the tourniquet. Then, she spotted it—a twisted piece of metal, jagged but long enough to fashion into a makeshift clamp. She grabbed it without hesitation, wincing as it cut into her palm. Pressing the metal down over the wound, she twisted it tightly, hoping the increased pressure would stem the flow of blood.
Y/n moaned in pain, barely conscious now, her head lolling to the side. Arizona's pulse quickened—this was too close. Too much blood was lost, and if they didn't get out of there soon...
"Come on, stay with me, Y/n," Arizona pleaded, leaning over Y/n's trembling body, her voice breaking. "You're not dying today. Do you hear me? You're not dying!"
In her earpiece, the fire chief's voice crackled, "We need more time to stabilize the area. A few more minutes."
A few more minutes. Arizona's breath caught in her throat, her vision narrowing as frustration and fear boiled over. She didn't have a few more minutes. Y/n didn't have a few more minutes.
Without thinking, Arizona pressed the comms button again, her voice low but filled with cold, steely rage.
"Listen to me, Chief," Arizona snapped, her voice sharp and laced with an intensity that sent a chill down everyone's spine. She had never sounded this commanding, this dangerous. "You get us out of here right now. I don't care how unstable the ground is. I don't care if it's risky. If you don't pull us up this second, I'm coming out of here with or without your help, and I will make sure your entire team is held responsible for anything that happens to Dr. Montgomery. Do you understand me?"
The silence on the other end of the line was palpable. Even April, who had been anxiously watching from above, froze at Arizona's tone. The normally bubbly, easy-going blonde was gone, replaced by someone fierce, someone who would tear through anyone who stood between her and saving Y/n.
"Do you hear me?!" Arizona demanded, her voice rising with a raw edge of desperation. "She's dying down here! I don't care what it takes—you get us out, or I swear to God, I'll bring this entire sinkhole down myself!"
There was a beat of hesitation before the fire chief finally responded, his voice shaky. "We're... we're working on it, Dr. Robbins. Stand by, we'll pull you out in sixty seconds. Just—hold tight."
Arizona's jaw clenched, her eyes blazing as she glanced down at Y/n. The younger woman was barely hanging on, her body trembling in shock. Arizona could see the blood seeping through the makeshift clamp, and she pressed down harder, trying to buy Y/n more time.
"Sixty seconds," Arizona muttered under her breath, glancing back up at the sky, praying the rescue team would move fast enough. She could hear the sounds of the fire crew scrambling to secure the cables and harnesses, but every second felt like a lifetime. "Just hold on, Y/n. You're not going anywhere."
Y/n's eyes fluttered open for a moment, unfocused and glassy with pain. Her lips moved, forming words too faint for Arizona to hear, but Arizona leaned closer, her heart pounding in her chest.
