Saving U(S)

Chapter Eighteen

"How's she doing?" Servando asked Meghan, trying to keep his eyes on the street. 

"She's losing a lot of blood," Kling replied. "Are we almost there?" 

Servando nodded. 

"I called ahead to Dawn, so she'll be expecting us. She has all the necessary equipment for treatment." 

"No one's trailing us, so that's good" Pinoe, who was looking out the rear window, interrupted. "God damnit, those bitches were awful! I can't believe the dumb-shitty law hired them in the first place!" 

Morgan was laying in between Pinoe and Kling, head rested in Meghan's lap. She coughed a little and groaned. "Meghan, my head hurts." 

"I know, Moe," Meghan stroked her hair gently. "Everything's gonna be okay, okay? I've got you." 

Morgan nodded and closed her eyes. 

Kling sighed as she felt a familiar tug of emotion in her heart. She had always had somewhat feelings for the young midfielder, but had never been able to really decipher them and figure out if she really did like Morgan. All Meghan knew for sure, was that Morgan was her best friend  and that she felt the need to protect her with a fierce, loyal passion. What a great job she'd done lately. 

A small stream of fresh blood trickled down Morgan's forehead. Kling took the back of her hand and wiped it away quickly. 

"Servando.." she tried to alert him. 

"Almost there," he replied. "A few more minutes, I promise." 

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The seven players who were gathered around the small table in the conference room were discussing what they would tell the media. 

"Tobin, we need to know what happened to you when you were gone," Becky said firmly. 

The tan girl shook her head, putting her face in her hands. 

"I can't go back to those memories," she whispered, her voice muffled. 

"It's okay, Tobin," Alex comforted her, rubbing her back. "Just tell us. You can trust us, right? You can trust me." 

Tobin sighed. She looked up at the ceiling, then down at her sneakers. 

"It was Aston," she finally said after a moment. "He organized the whole thing. He's the one who stabbed Christen. He's the one who locked Hope in the closet. He's a terrorist*. Aston kidnapped me and tortured me. He was going to sell me to some human trafficking service operating near Dallas. They were going to ship me off somewhere across seas." 

"Do you know where?" Ashlyn asked, interrupting. Ali elbowed her in the ribs. 

Tobin shook her head. 

"I didn't hear. But the deal had been made. He would've shipped me off any day if I hadn't escaped." 

"How did you escape?" It was Ali, this time, who got an elbow in the ribs. 

"I got lucky," Tobin ran a hand through her straight brown hair, leaning back in her chair. "I found an escape tunnel that led to the sewers. I was lucky that he kept me in the area. If it were anywhere further, I probably wouldn't have made it." 

Becky nodded, writing all of this down on a pad of paper. She would give this to Jill later, so she knew what happened. Jill was still at the police station, having to fill out a bunch of paperwork, probably. She wouldn't be back till later, around the evening hours. 

Alex was holding Tobin in her arms, now, cradling her against her body. She had her eyes closed, cursing herself for letting this happen to Tobin. It wasn't fair, any of this. Not one of her teammates had done one thing to deserve this... except for Hope, maybe, but Alex pushed that thought away. Now was not the time. 

"I don't mean to get off subject," Ali broke the small silence. "But I just wanted to say that Amy texted and said that Christen should be waking up soon." 

Tobin forced a tight-lipped smile. 

"Well, at least there's some good news," she breathed. "I was scared when the Dr. Lewis said that there'd be about an hour of flatline before the chemical resided completely, but when he explained that she wouldn't actually be dead, I felt much better."... 

*Just going back to clarify, the terrorism reference is not intended to be racist or stereotypical. I'd like to remind readers that I AM NOT WRITING THIS TO OFFEND ANYONE. Please do not blow up at me for this reference. If you find it still offensive, please refer back to my 1st Author's Note in this story, and if you are still offended, then I'm sorry. Just stop reading and go rant to your friends, okay? I don't want to have to deal with a lot of bullshit just because someone took my words the wrong way and misinterpreted them. That is just unnecessary.  Alright, back to the story!

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Servando pulled up to the back of the hotel where Dawn was waiting.  

"Come on, come on," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. "We need to get her to the training room." 

Kling quickly lifted Morgan's upper body up off the seat while Pinoe got her back half. 

"Oh my god," Dawn brought a hand to her mouth. She was holding the back door open for them. "What happened?! Servando? What- you didn't tell me-" 

"I know, I know," Servando got the door. "But we need to get her stitched up, ASAP. She's already lost a lot of blood." 

The small group brought Morgan to the training room Dawn had set up near the hotel's gym and laid her on an examination  table. 

"It's mostly her head," Kling told Dawn as the fitness coach started grabbing medical supplies from the cabinet. "But they hit her in the stomach and arms, too." 

"You didn't tell me it was this serious, Servando," Dawn grunted to the male midfielder, as she parted Morgan's hair to see the wounds. "I'll have to stitch up everything on her head." 

Kling hovered closly over Dawn's shoulder, trying to make sure Morgan was okay. 

"Meghan!" Dawn finally exclaimed when the defender was so close that she feel her breath on her neck. "I can't treat her if you're standing that close!" 

"Sorry, Dawn," Kling mumbled, stepping back. 

"Rapinoe, grab some gauze from the cabinet. Servando, get some disinfectant. Meghan, go ahead and call Jill." 

Dawn started to fill a syringe with a clear liquid. 

"Let's just hope this works," she muttered to herself.