Hatchetfield Stories

After Only A Day

I have no clue what this is, it's pretty ooc but I'm tired and I found a prompt I wanted to use lmao

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Injury
-Panic attack
-Forced medical care

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Paul held Emma tightly as they waited for help to arrive, his tie tied around her thigh in an attempt to slow down the blood flowing from the wounds. It didn't help much.

He'd given her his suit, and though it was many sizes too big, he as least wanted to try to keep her warm. She was pale and tired from all the blood she'd lost, and she clung to him as she tried to keep her eyes open.

The tough girl he'd gotten to know pretty well over the past few hours was now whimpering softly, in too much pain to even pretend she was okay.

He pulled her even closer, cradling her broken body as he whispered soft reassurances. "Shhh... It's okay, Em, just stay awake."

Paul knew she was in pain, and that if she fell asleep, the pain would stop. But she had to stay awake, because they would make it out. They had to.

Emma coughed, more blood dribbling down her chin. He wiped it away with his sleeve, staining the fabric. "Oh, Emma."

She looked up at him, though her eyes could barely focus on his anymore.

But judging by the way her eyes widened, she heard the helicopter at the same time he did.

The helicopter landed not far from them, and despite not knowing if he could trust the soldiers jumping out, he knew he had to take the risk. It was the only way Emma would survive.

"Over here!" he yelled, letting go of her to wave his arms above his head.

Multiple soldiers rushed toward the pair, and Paul had to look away from her leg when he got a good look at it in the light of a flashlight.

"No, I got her," he assured the soldier trying to take her from his arms. To be honest, he was scared to let them anywhere near her. Not before he was sure they weren't infected. Not before he was sure they wouldn't hurt her.

Hell, after only a day, he'd gotten pretty attached to her, wincing as she groaned at the movements when he stood up. The puddle of blood squelched under his feet.

He held her tightly as he was guided to the helicopter and stepped inside. There was no way to fasten her seatbelt without hurting her leg, so he buckled himself in and held on tight as the helicopter took off, promising her he wouldn't let her go, even if they crashed again.

They landed on top of the Clivesdale hospital, and Emma still clung to him as they walked inside, multiple doctors surrounding them almost immediately. "Let's get her into surgery," someone said.

She screamed as someone tried to take her from Paul's arms, clenching his suit in her fists, refusing to let go.

"She's too out of it, she has lost too much blood."

Paul winced at her cries when someone tried to pry her fingers open, forcing her to let go of him. "Be careful..." His voice broke, and it was then that he realized he cared more about her than he probably should after only a day.

Emma fought against the hands holding her down as soon as she was put on a stretcher, unable to properly comprehend that they were just trying to help her.

Paul ran after her as she was wheeled into a room, a bloodstain already forming under her leg. Multiple pairs of rough hands held her down, making sure she couldn't fight when an IV was put into her arm.

"She's pretty violent, you reckon she's one of them?"

"Nah, she's bleeding red blood, but let's tie her down, just to be sure."

Paul watched in terror as she was transferred onto the bed and strapped down. He didn't understand why anyone would be scared of the injured, frightened, five feet tall woman. She was just scared. Scared and in pain.

He walked toward the bed. "Emma? Emma, they're going to help you," he tried to tell her in an attempt to calm her down.

"Sir, please leave the room."

"But-"

"Leave!"

He was shoved back, the door closing in front of him. He stared through the window as some unknown substance was shot into her arm and her eyes slipped closed.

Flinching when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned around.

"Matthews, right?"

Paul nodded.

The soldier glanced through the window as the doctors prepared her for surgery. "She'll be fine. I need you to come with me."

"Why?"

"After what happened in Hatchetfield, we need to make sure you're human. the infection spreads fast, and it's our job to make sure it doesn't spread to the mainland."

Paul looked over his shoulder at Emma, who lay dead still on the bed, the heart monitor next to her the only proof she was still alive. "Okay."

*** *** ***

Luckily, when Emma woke up, she barely remembered anything of what happened after they were rescued. But Paul would always remember the way she cried when they took her from him, the way she whimpered, frightened and in pain.

But, after a few weeks of intense physical therapy, she was released from the hospital. She walked with a heavy limp, and more often than not used her crutches to get around.

They may not have had a choice when PEIP decided to move them into a house together, but Paul was glad they did. Because not only could he help her when the pain got bad, he was also glad he finally got the chance to know her better.