Remnants

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Heavy breathing. Broken heavy breathing. Breathing like the lungs couldn't get enough oxygen. Who was struggling to breathe?

Oh.

It was you.

You cracked open your eyes to stare up at two sets of round black eyes and a realm of worry. The oldest was holding your mask, having removed it, and you were glad she did. It was cracked with pieces missing, and it would have only caused you more damage than actually saved you.

You groaned as you forced yourself to sit up, a wieght pulled on your shoulders as the rough fabric dug into your skin. My backpack. You managed to rally, pulling you and your backpack up vertically, the children skittering back.

"Are you," You coughed suddenly, the metallic taste of proxoglycerima on your tongue. "Are you all okay?"

The oldest hesitated before nodding. She seemed to be the only one who understood Basic, but she didn't know enough to respond or was too scared to.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you saw her dirty and torn dress, hanging from her frame, the left shoulder strap tied together to stay on. You felt hot, the air warm from the gas, but they were shivering, probably because they had no meat on their bones.

You stretched your limbs, and were pleasantly surprised and grateful that besides a low lying ache, you didn't have any broken bones or severe pain or injury. You had a slighlty stronger ache in your left wrist, probably a sprain, and you could feel some dried blood on your face, but a very minimal amount. Your backpack, by some grace of god, any god, had broken your fall.

A feeling you were struggling to turn into a question lay on your tongue only to die a quick death.

You stood abruptly, startling the children, eyes roving. You found what you were looking for, a body strewn across the forest floor.

"Tech!" You sprinted to him, sliding down next to him. You took off his helmet, coughing into the side of your arm as the taste of metal strengthened. You forced your stomach back into your abdomen and not your throat as you gently shook him. His face was void of blood and injury, but his breathing was labored. His left leg was bent at a horrible angle, and something was definitely wrong with his right shoulder.

You twisted your lips as you sent the galaxy a silent apology and poked his right shoulder.

"Ouhgaauh," Tech's eyes flew open. In a nanosecond, his whole body was wrecked with deep, driving coughs, his body reacting to the proxoglycerima. You waited with him, glancing back at the children who were watching you cautiously as you knelt over Tech. "Oh," Tech rolled his head to look at you, breathless, his voice scratchy. "Hello Doctor."

"Tech," You breathed with relief.

"I recognize we must have been caught up in the blast," Tech used his good arm to attempt to push himself up into a sitting position. "The children -"

"Are okay," You finished for him. Your eyes flicked to his leg. "You are not."

"Unimportant," Tech managed through a cough. "We need to move away from the mine, reconnect at the rendezvous."

"Tech," You found yourself at a loss for words. "They're gone. It's nighttime."

"No, it's not," Tech pushed up his glasses, looking at you fully. He paused, his finger held up in the air to point something out to you, before frowning and looking around. He stopped his 360 observations when he looked up and found stars twinkling back at him. "That's not ideal."

"Can you walk?" You handed him his helmet and he swiftly plopped it onto his head.

"For a short while, although it seems my leg is broken."

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