Old vs. New: The other academy team:

Part 4

Kota:

Waking up was to the sound of heavy breathing all around me, I could feel my sore limbs shivering in the cold, almost damp environment. Where the hell am I? 

Assessing the situation, I could feel my glasses resting crookedly on the bridge of my nose; I could feel my back slumped against the rough surface of a cold cement wall, my hands tied tight in front of me, by a rope that seemingly ran toward an anchor higher up on the wall. I could feel my legs sprawled out in front of me, the source of the most pain, a throbbing in my left ankle. It had the sort of tight, warm feeling that comes from a swelling joint; just great.

From there I evaluate the external situation, signs of multiple life forms, in some cases the sounds of breathing where interrupted or shallow, a smaller, more stuttered, wheezing coming from the furthest corner from me. So I was clearly surrounded by those in a similar or worse situation to me. My brothers? I could feel my anxiety rising, something that hadn't been as prevalent, when I had thought I was just me. My team, my family, might be in danger, might be hurt.

It was almost too much.

What sent me over the edge was the slowly reemerging memory of how I had put my self in this situation. The horror that had run down my spine when I had thought that three of my family had been in danger, how I had let my family rush into danger, with out stopping to consider the possibility of a trap.

My fault.

By now I could define which of my family was closest, something about growing up so close to my brothers, meant I could discern the grates of their breathing, from Silas' larger heavy breathing, north pained grunts, and Gabriel's panicked gasps.

I felt uselessly tethered to the wall, trying to sit up brought a wave of dizziness, and the blood chose that moment to take a rush around my body; I couldn't reach the members of my team, I couldn't help. And with the intense darkness pressing in on me, there was that one sound I couldn't define, the grate of the wheezing breaths, too uneven for me to make an identification. Who ever it was, was hurt; hurt bad.

And here I am sitting useless, I can't do anything, non of my training readied me for this intense sense of panic and hopelessness.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10...... Sang! The calming mechanism reminding me of the one member of the team who's soft, even breathing I couldn't account for. Which lead me to the worst conclusion.

NO!

With my breathing sped up, I felt my mind racing, moving so fast many of the thought didn't even register as they vied for my attention leaving fleeting impressions; what good was this intelligence if all I was capable of was sitting here, useless, as my brothers and my perfect 10, lay possibly injured or dying around me.

My thought ground to a halt as voices finally registered,

"... M-mr. B-blackborne....?", It was sang, despite the shivering, whispered, and wheezing quality, it was unmistakably Sang.

I have to hold on, I have to get it together, for her, for them. We have to get out of here, all of us, together....