That's a bit dramatic of you, isn't it? ( she puffs against his face in a weak attempt at humor. but it's quiet, soft; probably only audible because of their proximity, and even then too much of an exertion; her joke cut short by a low groan as the heel of his palm dogs infinitesimally harder into her gut. )
Ow.
( her breath comes in wheezes now. it hurts to breathe and to not breathe, but it's the grounding sort of hurt. if she's going to stay awake and alive — and fight like he tells her to — it's going to be that hurt that keeps her that way. pain wasn't inherently bad, anyway. it was when you didn't feel anything that things got exponentially more dangerous, and death became a much more realistic outcome. so roxy takes pointedly deep, slow breathes and gives up on not crying; grits her jaw and feels fat, silent tears dragging through the grime and blood on her face to collect on her ear.
the wind picks up around them, and her first thought is that her wet face is a little cold. her next is that that's not normal wind, and that it sounds suspiciously like helicopter blades. )
[That exhale that Eggsy feels against his cheek isn't much, a weak attempt on Roxy's part because she simply doesn't have the energy right now. Eggsy is torn between prompting her to keep talking so that she stays awake and asking her to be quiet, so that she doesn't exert herself too much. He doesn't know which is the right method, and he vows to learn a lot more about being a field medic for his fellow Knights after they get out of this mess. Usually they don't have to worry about patching each other up while on the job, except for that vital moment when they do, and Eggsy never wants to feel this helpless again.
He sees that she's crying now and that only makes it even more difficult to keep his own tears at bay. They streak down his face and he sniffles like a sick kid, so pathetic when he's supposed to be a member of Kingsman, Galahad from the stories of legend (not that Eggsy's read any of them, though he's had it on his to-do list since earning the title).
It may be less clear to Roxy what's going on, but the loud whirring sound of the approaching helicopter and the gusts of air that it spins around them may be the best thing he's ever heard and felt in his twenty-two (three, almost) years.]
Roxy, you're gonna be fine. We're going home, all right? [Eggsy's shifting himself around so that he can get his arms under Roxy and lift her up, but two men race out of the helicopter (from Merlin's department, from the look of it) and wave him off.
He's really in no position to be carrying anything right now, so Eggsy nods and leans back, his hands covered in Roxy's blood and his side sticky with his own. He lets out a choked breath and closes his eyes, his chest flooding with relief.]
( turns out moving is more painful that laying on the ground and bleeding to death. and while she (barely) bites back a scream when eggsy shoves an arm under her shoulders and props her up, there's absolutely no way to surpress the pained half-scream-half-sob that rips itself from her chest when the two dark dressed medical evac men haul her up between the two of them.
though she'd been inspired by eggsy's determination to keep her alive, her own attempts to keep pressure on her wound is pathetic. what little blood she has left in her body starts flowing freely from her wound until one of the men rips open a sterile package and presses something high tech and hot — burning, really — to her side. the cauterization takes care of the immediate thread of bleeding to death, but over the low wounded animal sounds (is she making those moans?) there's talk of internal damage. then she's being carried to the helicopter that never completely touched down. it's just hovering in order to make a clean get away; oh right, they're still in hostile territory.
but she's being carried. her vision's swimming and eyes threaten to roll back in her head. but roxy can see eggsy when her head lolls back. and thirty five hours later when she wakes in the medical bay beneath uk hq with bandages, an iv, and strong ekg readings, roxy remembers feeling something akin to panic as they'd been separated before she passed out.
and even if that was unfounded — the rescue medic not carrying her had doubled back for galahad — no one (not the nurses, not merlin, not her poodle who is miraculously at her bedside the second time she wakes up) judge her for crying a little.
then she's sent home and almost immediately texts him. )
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Ow.
( her breath comes in wheezes now. it hurts to breathe and to not breathe, but it's the grounding sort of hurt. if she's going to stay awake and alive — and fight like he tells her to — it's going to be that hurt that keeps her that way. pain wasn't inherently bad, anyway. it was when you didn't feel anything that things got exponentially more dangerous, and death became a much more realistic outcome. so roxy takes pointedly deep, slow breathes and gives up on not crying; grits her jaw and feels fat, silent tears dragging through the grime and blood on her face to collect on her ear.
the wind picks up around them, and her first thought is that her wet face is a little cold. her next is that that's not normal wind, and that it sounds suspiciously like helicopter blades. )
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He sees that she's crying now and that only makes it even more difficult to keep his own tears at bay. They streak down his face and he sniffles like a sick kid, so pathetic when he's supposed to be a member of Kingsman, Galahad from the stories of legend (not that Eggsy's read any of them, though he's had it on his to-do list since earning the title).
It may be less clear to Roxy what's going on, but the loud whirring sound of the approaching helicopter and the gusts of air that it spins around them may be the best thing he's ever heard and felt in his twenty-two (three, almost) years.]
Roxy, you're gonna be fine. We're going home, all right? [Eggsy's shifting himself around so that he can get his arms under Roxy and lift her up, but two men race out of the helicopter (from Merlin's department, from the look of it) and wave him off.
He's really in no position to be carrying anything right now, so Eggsy nods and leans back, his hands covered in Roxy's blood and his side sticky with his own. He lets out a choked breath and closes his eyes, his chest flooding with relief.]
no subject
though she'd been inspired by eggsy's determination to keep her alive, her own attempts to keep pressure on her wound is pathetic. what little blood she has left in her body starts flowing freely from her wound until one of the men rips open a sterile package and presses something high tech and hot — burning, really — to her side. the cauterization takes care of the immediate thread of bleeding to death, but over the low wounded animal sounds (is she making those moans?) there's talk of internal damage. then she's being carried to the helicopter that never completely touched down. it's just hovering in order to make a clean get away; oh right, they're still in hostile territory.
but she's being carried. her vision's swimming and eyes threaten to roll back in her head. but roxy can see eggsy when her head lolls back. and thirty five hours later when she wakes in the medical bay beneath uk hq with bandages, an iv, and strong ekg readings, roxy remembers feeling something akin to panic as they'd been separated before she passed out.
and even if that was unfounded — the rescue medic not carrying her had doubled back for galahad — no one (not the nurses, not merlin, not her poodle who is miraculously at her bedside the second time she wakes up) judge her for crying a little.
then she's sent home and almost immediately texts him. )