Run. (Team Crafted Fanfiction)

Chapter 5-Death hurts.

Jerome's POV (*explosion in the distance*)

I blink my eyes, but the world stubbornly stays dark. I blink them again, and try reach up and to rub them. Pain lances suddenly through my shoulder, making me gasp in pain, but my hands don't move. What?

I tug hesitantly on the ropes binding my hands behind my back, but each tug just sends another wave of fresh pain through my shoulder. I moan quietly.

Tears leak out my eyelids as pain and confusion overwhelms me. Where am I? I was just at home, playing...no. I was at the airport. I got bitten. Shouldn't I be dead?

I try to roll over, but can't seem to do that either. More pain in my ribs and leg stop me, as does a rope securing my hands to my body and to whatever I'm laying on.

A door clicks open somewhere, and someone sits near me on this... couch? Couch. I moan again as the movement of the cushion sends another ripple of pain.

"Drink this." A voice, higher and harsh, instructs. A bottle is pressed against my mouth, and the water spills onto my lips and face. I desperately catch a few drops of moisture and swallow them.

"God, if that is all your going to drink you really are going to die."

I thought I did die. So I am still alive. Good to know. This didn't really feel like an afterlife, anyway. Unless it were hell.

 The voice groans. "Can't have you dying, noo, I have orders." They sneer. "Well, if you feel like it, you can lap this up."

The water bottle is emptied over my face, completely dousing my head.

"You can talk, you know. No rules against it for you. And I know you can. I heard you screaming at the airport."

I peel open my dry lips. "I- dead- bitten... why?

A soft laugh.

"Pretty good try. I'm going to assume you were asking about how you weren't dead when you were bitten, and why I saved your miserable ass?"

I shift my head in an attempt at a nod.

"For starters, you weren't dead. Pretty damn close though. And no, not from the bite. From your hell of a concussion. And to why you aren't one of them? You didn't actually get bitten. I fell on you when I was saving your life. Broke your shoulder. Oops."

They snort and get up, the couch shifting slightly as they do.

"Ponder it, idiot. Someone else will be along to make sure you're not dead soon."

Why does this person want me alive so badly? And if they are so intent on keeping me healthy, why am I tied up? These questions float through my head for a while until the door opens again. I don't move.

Someone crosses the room towards me, and two fingers press against my neck, warm and steady as they feel around the vein. Are they checking for a pulse? I hear a soft sigh.

"Has no patience, she does. Bet he hardly got one swallow before he got a shower."

With that, this new person taps on my cheek, hard. I moan and pull my head away from them.

"Good. You're awake. Are you thirsty?"

I shift my head and another bottle is held to my lips, and this time I get several swallows.

"Didn't get much from her. Hm, there's a shocker. Did she tell you why you're half dead?"

Not my first question, but oh well.

"N- no"

"Well, I'll just tell you that you have a severe concussion, 3 broken ribs, and a dislocated knee. Fixed you up as best as I could, but only time will tell."

"W-why save m-me?"

"Only time will tell. Hang in there."

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A/N(3/22/15): Chapter edited. Revisit for grammar(?)