gt oneshots

sbh pt. 5

When Lydia walks out clutching Henny to her hip, I half expect her to keel over right then and there.

Henny's dragging her feet a little, like she's barely awake. Her eyes are only halfway open, and she doesn't look up. Her voice is even smaller than usual, and I have to lean down and strain to hear her.

"Is Percy coming?" She whispers into Lydia's shirt, her eyes screwed shut against the light.

"I'm here, Hen," I say, and she gives a little nod. I catch a quick glimpse of her face before she hides it again; her forehead is slick with sweat, and her skin looks waxy, especially in the low light.

Lydia's holding onto her like she might fly to pieces between her hands if she lets go, and Henny's fists shake a little as she clutches onto the front of her shirt.

"Lyd, I don't feel good," she whispers. Lydia's brows are knitted together. She nods and wraps her arms around her a little tighter.

"I think I'm going to faint," Henny says. "Is Percy here?" She asks again. And then she falls forward.

She almost slips out of Lydia's arms, but I slide my hand underneath her right before she hits the ground. I expect her to be fragile and limp, but she's gone stiff and rigid as a board.

Lydia makes a small noise, like she's about to start sobbing, but then she moves closer to me and clutches onto my sleeve like she's about to fall over too.

I turn Henny around in my hand, and she's so impossibly small I'm afraid I might hurt her just by moving her about. She's still stiff though. Then I realize she isn't breathing.

My own breath catches in my chest. I give her a small prod, extremely careful, and she doesn't move.

Lydia and I both look at each other. I feel like I might puke if I open my mouth to speak. Lydia's face is frozen in horror.

I feel something shift a little against my fingers, and it's Henny, obviously. But she isn't waking up.

She's shaking. Seizing, actually, and she's flailing in all directions like her limbs are trying to pull away from her.

I know immediately what's going on. And apparently Lydia does too, judging by the look on her face. Half stricken with terror, half morphing into concerned realization.

My hands are moving before I realize what I'm doing. She's convulses so violently now that she almost slips through my fingers, so I carefully lower her to the floor and pin her on her side under my thumb.

"What are you doing?" Lydia whispers, horrified.

I slip two fingers under her head to keep her from slamming it repeatedly into the floor. She's still flailing, but she isn't rolling away from me now.

"You have to keep her on her side," I say gently, struggling to keep my voice from shaking despite the fact Henny is seizing under my fingers and my throat feels swollen all of a sudden and I want to cry. "If she hits her head, that would be really, really bad."

Lydia looks so helpless sitting there watching, and I want to reassure her, somehow, but she settles into the crook of my arm and doesn't say anything.

And somehow I know that means she trusts me.

I'm not sure how long Henny seizes for. It feels like hours—days, really—but I just keep holding her, and whispering soft nothings to Lydia, who's still clutching onto my sleeve like her life, and Henny's, depends on it.

Lydia tenses up suddenly and looks up at me. Her eyes are huge, or maybe they just look that way because she's been crying.

"She's bleeding," she whispers. Her voice breaks on that last word, and she makes a small noise like a squeak.