Part 45 (Peter's POV)

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         Kenzie's head was hot against my neck as I carried her on my back; with each step closer to the ambulance, her fever seemed to increase.

          "Are you sure you're okay to carry her, Peter?" Nat's eyebrows rose as she lengthened her stride to keep my pace. "I mean, you were just dead--"

          "I'm fine; it doesn't seem to be that way anymore, does it?"

          She muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "tart grass," but I decided not to pay attention.

          "Peter," Kenzie groaned. "My leg..."

          "I know, Kenz, just hang on for another second, we're almost there--"

          As I ran across the parking lot, weaving between Tony's vacant suits and police vehicles, my mind raced along with my legs. Kenzie had just painstakingly finished filling me in on the situation with her mom when her eyes suddenly started to roll towards the back of her head and she began to flit in and out of consciousness, complaining about pain in her broken leg. In a panic, Nat, Steve, and I cut her jeans off at the knee and discovered that when Kenzie fell, her tibia had disconnected and pulled in such a way that it tore her skin— and, because of the dirt, grime, and blood that had been lodged in the open area for the last few hours, her leg was purple and yellow with a growing infection. It was then that the ambulance that Tony had apparently called for me showed up— but, considering my lack of deadness, we all decided that Kenzie was in significantly more need of medical assistance than I was.

          A young woman, probably an EMT, met me at the door of the ambulance. "We were called here for a teenage boy meeting your description, but you don't seem like you've been shot three times—"

          "I'm fine, but she needs help right now," I nudged Kenzie's head with mine, my heart falling as her grip slackened around my neck.

          More medical personnel filed out of the back of the ambulance with a gurney and various equipment, gently taking Kenzie from off my back and rushing her into the ambulance. I heard them saying things like "risk of osteomyelitis," "hypovolemic shock," and "beginning tachycardia," but I didn't understand any of it.

         I started behind them, grabbing onto the handle of the doors before I was stopped by the same young woman whom I had met at first, whose name tag I now read as 'Stephanie'. "Sir, are you her family? Only immediate family can ride with her in the ambulance."

          "He's the closest thing she has."

         The voice came from behind me— I'd nearly forgotten that Steve and Nat were there until Steve said the words. I shot him a look of gratitude, pleading with Stephanie with my eyes. She was skeptical for a moment, but then nodded, saying, "You better hop on if you want to come."

          "Thank you," I choked. I practically flew into the back of the ambulance, first finding the EMT securing Kenzie into place (sorry, dude), and then finding Kenzie's hand. She was pale, her eyelids barely open. Fear gripped me as tightly as I was holding her.

          The same guy that I had accidentally tripped into assured me that she was in the best of hands and invited me to take a seat as the ambulance hobbled off towards the hospital.

          The only hands I wanted her in were mine— so I didn't let go. That was a promise I didn't intend to break.

**********

          Soft hospital light hinted through my eyelashes, a white pillow firm underneath my head. The room smelled of antiseptic and sweat. The couch I was laying on (a weirdly repelling blue color and fabric) felt like an uncomfortable prison. Not because I was physically stuck to it, but because my anger at the infuriating, heartbreaking unfolding of events was accentuated and embodied by my mild discomfort as I lay there— just another element of my life that I couldn't change. And that room was just another element of Kenzie's life that I couldn't save her from. I sat up in ire and started punching the cushions underneath me as tears fell down my cheeks, searching for any form of release.

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