• 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘢

𝟏𝟖. 𝗜𝗻 𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳

A mix of buzzing voices and deathly silence.

It was strange. There were no longer voices shouting out to each other, desperate cries for attention accompanied by the resounding explosions that went off one by one, as though meticulously set up.

Now, there were only voices speaking in hushed tones, their words slowly turning comprehensive. No full sentences could be deciphered, but you were gradually realising what was going on and where you were.

"A few of them just came back, but we're still missing countless women and volunteers"

The attack. A strike to your consciousness at the realisation caused you to finally open up your eyes. It wasn't a sudden action, but enough to make out the worn-down ceiling above you, a rather familiar sight you had sworn you had come across before.

Your body remained still. Perhaps it was the faint aching against your head, but you had no intentions of moving any time soon. It was a nice feeling, laying on your back without any responsibilities. Rare, for someone who was constantly on their toes in case all odds fell against them.

It was enjoyable and, for now, it was all that mattered. You were dreading to look around, so you supposed this was a better option.

The voices only grew louder, and you couldn't tell if it was because they were getting closer or from the fact that all your senses were returning to their usual state, sensing everything around you as though you had simply woken up from an afternoon nap. Far from it, really.

A whistle by your right made you almost swivel your head, but you couldn't find the strength. Surely whoever had made the noise wasn't calling you as though you were a mutt.

"She's awake"

You were correct. By the depth of the speaker's voice, you knew it was one of Zeke's volunteers, but there was no way you would be able to decipher which one exactly.

But that was far from a concern, as the dim light that was coming from your left was quickly blocked by bodies, scurrying towards you before you felt a pair of hands cup your cheeks.

"Y/N! Goodness, we thought we might've lost you out there. How are you feeling? We've tried to deal with your wounds but, without your response, we weren't entirely convinced we did a good job at it"

Truth be told, you couldn't point out a specific place that hurt or had perhaps not been dealt with as the entirety of your body was engulfed in a sort of ache, now not only focused on your head.

You managed to hum out in an attempt to calm Bernadette's frantic eyes that kept scanning you for any source of discomfort.

Gradually, a tingling feeling settled in your fingers, your attention shifting away from the woman's ranting as she thanked all that she knew that you had come back in one piece.

It was clear that she was leaving out the number of volunteers and women that were still missing. So you focused on your hand instead.

Balling up your fist, you realised that, alas, you were now able to move around. Slowly, but it was better than being unable to comfort a truly startled companion that had just joined at Bernadette's side. She got a squeeze from your hand as a sign that you were, indeed, okay.

But as more comrades came up to you, a sinking feeling started to grow in your stomach. Bernadette's optimistic tone of voice had worked in distracting you from what was going on around you.

Seeing injured men and limping women around you threw you back into the pit of realisation.

"Get her to sit up, she cannot lose any more blood!"