Hatchetfield Stories

Say Hi To Jane

69th oneshot let's goooooooooo
(Of course it's a helicopter crash fic what else did you expect)

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Injury
-Blood
-Kind of suicide to escape a bad situation
-Death
-Guns

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Emma saw the rebar in her leg before the pain hit her. Her entire body tensed at the awful pain that washed over her, which only made it so much worse. Instinctively, her hands cradled her bleeding leg, and she bit back a scream when they brushed against the metal.

She didn't process Paul kneeling next to her until she felt the hand on her back. "Emma..." he breathed, staring at her leg in horror.

"Yeah... That's not good," she mumbled, watching the crimson liquid gush out the wound, through her fingers, and onto the ground, where a small puddle was already forming.

She grabbed the rebar with trembling hands, and though her vision blurred at the agonizing pain, she forced herself to pull it out with a swift motion.

Emma's ear-piercing scream could probably be heard through the entire town, maybe even the citizen of Clivesdale could hear it, left to wonder what was going on in the town across the lake.

The gas leak, that the government came up with to cover up the horrors of what was truly going on in Hatchetfield, didn't explain the screaming, or the continuous gunshots and singing.

Through the blur of pain, Emma tied her bow around her leg, and though the blood continued seeping from the wound, there was not much more she could do.

She let her head fall back, biting her lip hard enough to taste blood, as she desperately tried to breathe through the blinding pain.

Paul sat next to her, whispering soft reassurances she could barely hear over the ringing in her ears. She clung to his words, trying to calm herself down enough to be able to think about anything but the pain.

She tried to think of what she had learned in biology, figuring out what the rebar had damaged, but she didn't come much further than knowing it had completely shattered her femur.

Emma flinched when she heard a gunshot, followed by the thumb of a body hitting the ground. Looking around as her breathing quickened, she saw the man a couple of yards away from them, glowing blue blood seeping from his limp body.

Paul cupped Emma's cheek, forcing her to look at him, the gun in his hand still smoking slightly. "We have to get out of here, okay? If there's one, more will probably follow soon."

She nodded slowly as her panicked mind processed his words.

Paul took off his tie, holding it out for her. "Bite down on this."

Emma's hands were shaking as she grabbed the tie, forcing the fabric between her gritted teeth. She closed her eyes as Paul's arm slid under her knees, the other behind her back.

"Fuuuuuuck..." she moaned as she was lifted into the air, her body not sure if it should spasm in pain or relax in his arms in an attempt to find some comfort as a white-hot pain shot up her leg with every step he took.

By the time Paul turned around a corner and stopped in a dark alleyway, she was barely holding onto consciousness. She whined as he put her down, and sat next to her, pulling her close to keep them warm in the cold night. Emma was shaking, but he couldn't tell if it was from cold, pain, or adrenalin. She didn't even know it herself.

"We'll be okay... We'll get out of here," Paul mumbled, though Emma couldn't tell if he was talking to her or himself.

"I'm not gonna make it, Paul..." she told him, closing her eyes for a few seconds. Her whole body shook when she coughed out the thick liquid that made its way up her throat, which sent a jolt of pain throughout her entire body.

"Oh, Emma..."

Emma wiped her lips with the back of her hand, looking at it to confirm that it was in fact blood. "That's not good."

"No, it isn't... Just try to hang on, okay?"

Emma nodded, though she could feel her body slowly giving up, her heart beating faster and faster the more blood she lost, and more blurry spots crept into her vision.

She looked at her leg, and saw that blood was still oozing out of the wound despite the makeshift tourniquet. After only a few minutes of being in the alley, a concerning amount of blood had already puddled around her leg.

It was then that she realized there was no way she'd make it out.

Dying in Hatchetfield... The one thing she'd tried so desperately to avoid. At least she wasn't alone.

Finally, she let herself be vulnerable in front of him, letting out a whimper as she leaned into his touch. You can't be embarrassed when you're fucking dead, so why not fill those last few minutes with love and comfort, instead of fear and pain?

"Paul?"

He smiled at her, blinking away the tears in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"It hurts..."

Letting out a sad chuckle, he gently stroked her hair. "I'm sorry. I am right here, okay?"

"Make it stop..." she mumbled, trying her best not to scream when her leg moved just a couple of inches, which was enough to send a stabbing pain up her leg.

"Oh, Emma..." he hushed her, wiping away the tears that rolled down her cheeks, but not bothering to wipe away his own.

She eyed the gun that lay just a few feet away from them. "I'm going to die anyway."

"Oh, you're serious? Emma, help is coming sooner or later. Just try to hang on, okay?"

"Paul, I don't think-"

"Shhh... Just hang on. We'll figure something out."

"Paul, what if they find us? I won't be able to fight or run, and you can't protect both of us."

"Emma, no."

"Paul, please!" she begged, desperation clear in her voice.

"I'm not going to kill you!"

"I'd rather be dead than turn into some mindless alien slave!" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pleaded for him to make the pain stop.

She was scared, desperate, and in pain. She reached for the gun, but Paul grabbed it before she could.

"Okay... Okay." He flicked off the safety with shaking hands.

Emma's eyes went wide. This is what she'd asked for, but that did little to calm her fear.

"Okay." She closed her eyes as Paul pulled her onto his lap, cradling her broken body.

"Thank you," Paul started, his voice breaking. "Thank you for taking me and my friends with you. You saved our- my life. I'll get out of here, and start a coffee shop in your honor."

Emma chuckled. "Don't even bother, our coffee was shit, and we both know it."

Paul smiled sadly. "Say hi to Jane, okay?" Emma nodded. "Don't look."

She closed her eyes as she felt the gun touch her temple, and Paul whispered an apology, before pulling the trigger.

Flinching at the gunshot, she gripped the fabric of his shirt as the bullet made its way into her skull.

She was gone before she could even feel the pain.