Remember for the Both of Us [COMPLETED]

3: Will She Live?

They lifted me out of the Box (that's what they call it, right?). I don't know how they did it. I can't remember. The next thing I can place is coming to on the grass, boys crowding around me. I froze, the pain throbbing relentlessly in my head. I began to fade in and out of consciousness.

"Get away! Give her room to breathe, shucking klunkheads!"

Blackness... fading back in to light...

The world was jolting, left and right and left and right--like footsteps. I groaned in pain. 

"You're hurting her! Be careful!"

"I know! But I have to walk!"

"Well, you're the one who wouldn't let anyone else carry her, so..."

 I came to a little more. Someone was carrying me. Blonde hair. Cold eyes, carved from marble.

...fading back to darkness... fading in to light...

The creaking of wood. Something playing with my hair. Gentle pressure to my head. I weakly swatted at the nuisances. "Shh..." someone said. "We're trying to fix you up. Just a little more and then you can sleep, okay?"

...this time it was real sleep. Somehow it was darker than the unconsciousness...

Quiet voices talking, two normal ones and then the British one. "We bandaged her up. She's sleeping it off. Not in a coma like the other one..." That was voice number one.

"I'm sensing a theme with the ladies around here," voice number two said. "What is it with them and comas?"

"Shut up..." the British voice shushed them. "She's almost definitely here for a reason. So will she live?"

A pause. Voice number two. "I don't know."

"I wonder if it was an accident," voice number one wondered. "Like she slipped and fell and cracked her head on the edge of a box."

"I wouldn't put it past the Creators to do something awful like that, though," the British voice said. "But why?"

"Like you said, Newt," voice number one said. "We don't have any of the shucking answers for any of the questions you'd care to ask at this point."

"Good that," the other two murmured.

And suddenly I felt that much worse knowing that WICKED's intentions were far worse than anything they could ever imagine for themselves.

This time I slipped not into sleep, but true unconsciousness. There was no thought, no dreams, nothing at all, until I woke again.