Perfectly in Pieces

Chapter 40: Theo

I can't quite put my finger on why... but this may be my favorite chapter I have written so far.

TW!!- This chapter is... a lot. Very graphic descriptions of injuries. Blood. Gore. Please proceed with caution.

All rights of characters and world are reserved to J. K. Rowling
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She is fine. She is going to be fine Theo. It's not that much blood. It... it isn't that big of a pool... That is now soaking through my robes, and disappearing down the drain feet away from us.
There isn't that much red. Most of it is her hair right? Yes, yes it is her hair. It isn't all blood, and a flashing detrimental diagnostic charm. No it is wrong. It has to be wrong. Sometimes they lag. Yes, that is it. Sometimes the magic takes a moment to catch up to the body. Of course. Of course. That is why her vitals are going down-down-down-down-down....

He rips off the entire left half of her shirt.

The huge and extremely deep lacerations are all on her left side. All over her arm, her chest, her... neck.

Her neck, her neck, shitshitshitshitshit, the main artery.

Theo presses both of his hands hard against the skin split open. Too open. Much too open.

Vitals keep going down-down-down-down-down.

"Ginny!!"/"What happened?"/ "Fucking dark wards and curses over areas of the castle. She walked into one and started, started..."

Her hot and already sticky blood keeps seeping through his fingers pressing down on the gash on her neck. He needs to stop the bleeding. He needs to get blood back in her.

Three shadows surround him. They breathe on him, touch him, hover in his space.

"Back the fuck up! I.. I need to be able to focus. I, I, I need my bag. Blood replenisher-wand-dittany-shit..."

He feels something he shouldn't be able to feel against his fingers.

Vitals keep going down-down-down-down.

"The bleeding needs to stop. She needs to stop bleeding. She, I, I need her to stop bleeding."

He looks at her face. Shit, he shouldn't have done that. The skin is pale, bloodless, lifeless looking.

"Theo tell us what to do."

"Put your hands over mine, press hard. Like so fucking hard. I, shit, I am going to slip mine out, and I need my wand. And I need essence of dittany and a bloody potion, and..."

Draco's hands press hard on top of his. He sees Hermione with his healing kit, pulling out supplies. Ron grabs the collar of his robes and pulls them off of him as Theo slides his slick and red hands off of her neck. Ron hands him his wand as soon as he is free from the large and restraining robes.

I am not making a plaque for you.
Please, shit please don't break on me.
Please don't fall apart in my hands.

He has been here before. He has felt this before. He has seen this all fucking before. But last time, it was Draco bleeding out on this exact damn floor. Last time Draco wasn't bleeding for as long before he got to him. Last time... last time the diagnostic chart wasn't flashing like this.

Vitals keep going down-down-down-down.

"Okay when I say, move your hands Draco. You two start dumping the potions down her throat."

He wipes her blood onto his pants so he has a better grip on his wand. He has to focus. He has to be precise, and accurate, and steady.

The opposite of everything he is feeling.