-- We could be heroes -&- Prim --

[Chevrolet Winchester]

Was it selfish or silly to hope that at one point life might just go right?

Apparently.

Twenty four hours ago, Chevrolet Winchester had convinced herself that things were actually, for the first time in her life, going well. Maybe there were inconsistencies, things that weren’t great or needed fixing, but she and her family were…. Happy. It was so rare to have that happiness without something coming to bite you in the ass. She should have seen the bite coming really, but she didn’t. She’d been in contact with Prim about doing something for Simi and Ryder and their little things that were on the way and finally they’d found a gap in the diary that seemed to work for everyone. Prim and Chey had been planning to meet in New Orleans at the James household, it couldn’t be that hard to plan a party right? It was always better to spring things on people last minute. Then they have no time to work it out and wriggle out of it. Chey was amazingly excited to be an aunt, and she wanted to show her brother and good friend how happy she was for them. That no matter what road blocks got in their way, she was there for them. She was, after all, a mother herself. She knew the fears and niggles that Simi would have. She knew that not having the right support could be more terrifying than anything else, but luckily Ryder and Simi were the most supported couple Chey had ever known.

After a few hours of packing (not nearly enough for her and too many things that looked toooooo cute on Jessie-Bean I might add) Chey had packed everything up into her little powder blue bug and strapped her munchkin into the passenger seat. Despite it only being midday, Jessica was already completely passed out in her seat. Shamelessly, Chey watched her as she sat in the drivers seat, the keys in her hand. She wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet. So she watched. Resorting to poking her ever so slightly to see her squirm and wiggle, but she never did. She just laid there peacefully and slept. Who was Chey to argue? Hell she probably woulda enjoyed a nice long nap herself. But she had to drive the nice long journey into the next state over. It wasn’t a bad journey either. The roads seemed surprisingly empty and the youngest Winchester seemed to enjoy herself as she gently sang along with David Bowie. That was until she noticed that her car was very nearly juiceless.

Pulling up to the first service station, Chey parked up her little bug and got out to fill it up. Once she was done, she checked on the sleeping baby and nipped inside to pay. As she walked in, she couldn’t believe how quiet it was. She almost wondered if she’d entered a ghost town at some point. She’d shouted a hello to see if she could grab someone’s attention but no one seemed to be responding. Peeking out the window, Chey called out again, only to hear the sound of gun shot coming from behind her. She tried to dive out of the way, hitting a shelf full of candy bars on her way, but didn’t completely dodge the shot. Her hand flew instantly to her side and her heart stopped. What the hell? Of all things, had she got herself involved in a hold up or something? Did her luck not suck enough as was? Oh yeah, demon’s and angels and every force the world can throw at you wants your family… here have a human shoot you? But as Chey slid up her boot and retrieved her emergency gun, shooting at the person who had drawn the first shot, it became clear that her attacker hadn’t been human… but she hadn’t known who Chey was either. A chuckle left the demon before Chey as she looked down at the gun shot, much like someone would if a drink had been thrown on them at a bar. “Hunters these days… They lack imagination….” With that, another shot went towards Chey. Her only concern being for the sleeping baby in her car, the Winchester broke the rules of that name, and ran. She ran as quickly as her little legs would carry her. That didn’t help her miss the second bullet either though.

Running into her bug, Chey shut the door beside her and instantly locked her door, leaning over a still sleeping Jessica to lock her in too. Chey searched her pockets for the keys. Come on, where were they?? They had to be there!!! FUCK!!!! She may have even said the fuck out loud. Right now, she was glad Ryder taught her to hot wire cars all those years ago. It was one of those moments where you were going as fast as you could possibly but you just wished you could go faster. As she mentally begged the car to start, she peeked out of the window and towards her little one who seemed to be grumbling as her mother freaked. As Chey noticed the door to the service station pull open, her heart seemed to stop for a moment, only to start again as her car did. With a gasp and an upright bolt, Chevrolet put her car into gear and moved as fast as she could, running down a sign on the way and completely waking the baby.

Dark espresso colored locks flew everywhere as she frantically tried to look every which way and sped down the road. “Shhh baby… Shhh.. It’s okay. Momma’s here…. You’re okay.” She probably didn’t help matters, taking sharp turns at random places in the hopes of losing anyone that might be following her and waiting till she felt far enough away to slow down a bit. Reaching out her hand, she tried to sooth the imp. As she took a moment to catch her breath, she began to wish she hadn’t. The searing pain she was starting to feel revealed two nice gun shot wounds. The first shot only managed to very slightly graze her side. The second however, had hit her in the shoulder and the pain was slowly becoming unbearable. She could even feel her shirt stick to her back where the blood continued to seep into the material. That didn’t stop her outstretching that arm to gently stroke her childs face though. She was more worried about Jessica than she was herself right now. More so as she noticed how clammy her face was. Damp and sticky but cool until you reached her cheeks which were a little hotter than they really should have been.

Jessica seemed to slip back to sleep, so Chey embraced the opportunity to slip her cell phone out of her pocket and dial Prim’s number. “Prim. Okay this is going to sound really bizarre but trust me… I need you to tell me one thing! Just tell me where you are and then I want you to book yourself into the nearest motel. Don’t use your card, remember the fake one I gave you? Use that. Book the biggest room you can get. I’m going to be there as soon as I can, but trust me, you need to just stay where you are.” She didn’t know if that demon had been specifically meant for her, but she couldn’t risk someone knowing where they were and following either of them to Simi. Not when she was pregnant and when her and Ry seemed to be doing so well. Once she had an answer, she threw the phone onto her dash board and upped her speed. She was trying desperately to distract herself from the fact she could very well be bleeding to death. Honestly if she got Jessica to Prim safe before she did so, that would be enough for her. So she just concentrated on driving. Even turned the music up and continued to sing along with David Bowie. We could be heroes, just for one day? There was no such thing. Heroes never got a day off.

Despite the fact she sped the entire way there and ran at least three red lights, it still took almost three more hours for Chey to get there. Once she arrived where she was told, she turned on her GPS to look for the nearest motel and followed the annoying voice to where she quickly popped out of the car outside the reception building. She lifted Jessica out of her chair and lifted her into her arms, throwing a blanket over her shoulder to cover her little Beany as well as the gun shot wound on her back. Shuffling into the reception and slowly, she shot a smile at the guy behind the desk and approached him, trying to act normal. “Hi. Sorry my phone’s died and I’m supposed to be meeting my friend here, her name’s Lucy Wallis, and like I say, I know she’s here but she was gonna send me the room number but… No phone… Could you tell me where she’s stayin’?” Of course, typically, he started by telling her that he couldn’t do it but she just turned on the charm (and the puppy dog eyes). “Please? I mean you can ring her room if you like… I have a twelve month old running a fever and I really can’t wait to find somewhere to charge my cell phone…” With a defeated sigh, the guy told Chey the room number, adding a ‘I can’t give you the key though.’ before being thanked and Chey promptly skipped out the door.

Getting back into the car, Chey pulled up as close as she could to the room. She knew she’d have to get her stuff eventually and the closer the better. This time she left Jessica in her seat, tucking the blanket around her tight and grabbed it, heading towards the door and bashing heavily against it. “PRIM?? PRIM ITS CHEY. YOU NEED TO LET ME IN… LIKE NOW…. BEFORE I BLEED TO DEATH!!” Suddenly, she really hoped there wasn’t another Lucy Wallis, ‘cause… AWKWARD.

[prim]

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FOR what must have easily been the hundredth time, Prim picked her phone up from the tacky bedspread and checked it, in case for the brief second she had been in the bathroom Chey had called her again. What in God’s freakin’ HELL was going on? Prim had no idea. She was supposed to meet Chey in New Orleans that night, to help organise a party for Simi and Ryder, yet three hours ago everything had changed with a single phone call, and now Primrose Thatcher, masquerading as Lucy Willis, was very nearly ripping her blonde locks from her head as she paced the length of the small motel room. Under instruction, Prim had indeed booked the largest the motel had, but even that was relatively small beneath her pacing feet.

She was pretty sure she was wearing a grove in the carpet.

Again, Prim sat on the bed and flicked open the slim device, scanning messages just in case she opened one and didn’t read it correctly... but no. Save for messages from Leo, and the singular one she had from Chey that morning to say the girl was just leaving, there was nothing. If anything, this worried Prim more, and she threw the device onto the bed where it bounced once before sliding to a halt near a pillow. What was wrong? How had a day that had been so easily planned, a day that had started so well resulted in a motel room using a fake name?

The mere fact that Chevrolet Winchester had told her to use the fake card she had been given was enough to tell Prim that something was very, Very wrong. Leaning forward, prim removed her boots, cursed herself was once more deciding that heels were always a good idea, and tossed them on top of her own bag that she had thrown in the corner. The trip to the James household was going to be a three day vacation, a break from the stress of university, the papers she had to write. It was a chance to celebrate Simi and Ryder, and maybe just start learning all about the duties of being a godmother.

It was supposed to be fun.

Curling one knee beneath her, Prim grabbed the tv remote and switched on the small portable TV that sat on the side, flicking through the channels before finally landing on a chat show. She was trying to distract herself, she knew it, but the somewhat menial problems of Americas lower-class paled in comparison to those of her friends, the few people she had grown close enough too in the recent months to even begin thinking of family. When you looked over their problems, their misfortunes, those of the people ranting from their armchairs on the Tv were laughable. Tucking one of her newly cut curls into her mouth, prim chewed on the blonde lock and watched anyway, paying it only half of her attention as her eyes glanced between the people chanting “Jerry! Jerry!” and the ever silent device at her side.

When someone, Chey, banged on the door, Prim nearly jumped out of her skin, tripping over her own feet as she raced to the doorknob and tore it open with a violent twist. One look at the girls pale face told her something was dreadfully wrong, and as soon as Prim grabbed a hold of the other girl to pull her in, the brief skin contact told Prim exactly what was wrong, and her eyes widened in fear. Two Bullet wounds.... Prim pulled chey over to the bed, amde her sit.

”Where’s Jessie? Is she okay? Chey, what the HELL happened? Who shot you?” Despite the bleeding girl on the bed, Prim was worried for Jessie – she could see Chey, she knew the extent of her injury, and knew that for another five minutes at least she was far from deaths door, even as she flew around the room, ripping towels from the cupboard. ”Damnit Chey, Take your shirt off and lay on your front, I need to look at it... Where’s Jessie?! Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” She ranted, even as she grabbed alcohol from the mini fridge. Prim was freaking out, more scared now than she had been half an hour earlier, but at least in her terror, she could still move.

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[Chevrolet Winchester]

Well never before had Chey seen a door open with such force. It was clear on Prim’s face the second Chey saw her, that the young girl had been worrying herself sick. Was it valid? Probably. Especially considering right now, Chey had two bullets embedded in her body. She grabbed Chey so fast that she almost dropped the car seat out of her arms. Prim edged her to the bed and Chey tucked the car seat down the side, though the thing could seem like a gift basket or a giant floating blanket really. Prim seemed to reel off questions a mile a minute, zooming from room to room like a maniac. She told Chey to take her shirt off and lay on the bed. She let out a pained chuckle as she tried to peel her cardigan away. “God, Prim. Ive only been here a minute and you’re already trying to get my clothes off.” But the pain in her voice was quickly replaced by a harsh growl as she tried to unstick her shirt from here back where the blood had dried onto it. “Jessie’s fine. She’s asleep under that big purple blanket. In fact, she’s slept the whole way here.” Chey had never known her girl so quiet but she had herself convinced the little one was just being well behaved.

Once the abundance of white and black polka dot material had been removed from her gently tanned skin, she moved to lay the front of her body against the soft cotton sheets that covered the thin and slightly lumpy duvet. As she waited for Prim, she leaned over the side of the bed and pulled the blanket off the top of Jess’ seat, watching her lips gently part as she breathed heavily in her sleep. Chevrolet’s brows furrowed gently and she reached out her hand to gently stroke the infant’s cheek. As soon as she did so she had this feeling that something just wasn’t right. As her brows furrowed further, Chey struggled to turn away from Jess.

“I don’t quite know what’s going on out there, but there was a black eyes in a service station and I sure as hell wasn’t going to risk leading it to Simi and Ryder.” God knew the newly weds needed a break from the supernatural forces that would surely be after them the rest of their lives. That was why Chey always swore she’d never get married. Who wanted to inflict this life on someone else? “How’s it looking back there, Primmy?”

[prim]

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HOW had Prim missed the large car seat in Cheys arms? She had no idea... but then Prim was not exactly renowned for noticing the obvious or being forthright in her observations of the world now was she? Anyhow, the look of pain on her friends face, let alone the way in which she had been banging on the door, her insistence at the small fact she was bleeding to death was more than enough to distract the slight girl from the baby in her arms... even if she did then demand knowledge of Jessie’s whereabouts. Yeah, Prim could certainly be a little scatter brained at time, but given the current situation she could not really be blamed. Nor could be blamed for only staring blankly at the dark haired girl when she made a joke – Prims mind had quickly sunk into the many medical tomes she had read over the last few years, the minor surgeries she had aided and witnessed. She knew the theory of what she had to do, but whether theory would become a practical application was something she was yet to find out.

The small bottle of Vodka in her hand, and another of whisky were the only thing Prim could find in the small fridge that proved of any help, that and the sewing kit in the in the top drawer. She put them on the side, along with the towels she had pulled from the bathroom and sat on the bed next to Chey, laying her fingers gently on the other girls back and frowning in concentration as she sussed out exactly what was happened.... what she could do to repair it here. She knew of course, could see exactly how the tissues should knit back together... but first she had to get that other bullet out, the one embedded in her shoulder. ”You lost a lot of blood.... but it looks worse than it is.” Prim told her truthfully as she unscrewed the top from the vodka bottle. ”And this is going to hurt like a bitch.” This done, she poured it over the wound, cleaning away the blood and any dirt or fabric fragments from the hole. She could just about make out the bullet inside... but whether she could get to it with a pair of tweezers was a different story.

Pressing the wadded towel back to the wound, Prim pushed some hair out of her face with her forearm, shifting a little at an itch in her side. She still looked worried, pale... but at least now the girl knew she could do something to help. ”She slept through the whole thing? Wow.” Prim murmured, lifting the towel away to look once more at the bullet wound. Well. She could either stick her fingers in, try with the tweezers, or attempt to stitch it up... glancing around, prim pressed the wadded cloth back against the wound, and looked instead at the one in Chey’s side, grazing her now bloody fingers over the side. ”This one doesn’t look to bad Chey... it only grazed you...” She said, closing her eyes and concentrating on the wound, figuring out exactly what to do, whilst the itch in her own side grew from annoying to damn right infuriating.

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[Chevrolet Winchester]

While it was becoming more apparent with every passing moment that Prim wasn’t, Chey was far too used to this sort of thing. She was used to having to make jokes and grit her teeth through the pain. Over the years she’d faced all kinds of horrors at the hands of evil. Considering she was twenty one years and almost eight months old and her first hospital visit for that reason was at six months old… that’s a lot of years and months of living in hell. The nightmares and attacks weren’t even enough, the forces of darkness decided that the effects of their attacks should last her entire lifetime. Chey still dealt with the side effects of her first attack all those years ago. It wasn’t fair. She never even had a chance at a normal life. But she was never one to complain. She saw so many people in her life who thought the world owed them. There were times she’d wish for the world to give her a break. But she generally took it on the chin. She dealt with it, even though it was hard. Even tonight, as she bit through the pain, she never felt sorry for herself.

The bed tilted slightly as Prim sat down and Chey was already bracing herself for whatever she had planned for her. She told Chey that it looked worse than it looked and she let out a small chuckle. “Yeah? Wanna tell my shoulder that?” She laughed again but then as the booze hit her back she let out a sudden hiss and a growl. She gently muttered “Motherfucker!” Like a good mother, she quickly whispered an apology to her daughter, despite the fact the infant was sleeping and far too young to remember this moment. She allowed Prim’s words to distract her, taking in every single one of Prim’s movements. “Yeah. My girl ain’t usually a sleeper but I don’t know… She’s a little hot, maybe she’s coming down with something. Tammy was around her with flu the other day so its possible.” She suddenly winced again as Prim’s cold fingers hit the wound on her side. “Yeah I dodged that one quite successfully. It was bullet number two that decided it liked me too much.”

Clenching her eyes shut as hard as she could, Chey tried to block out the fear that was now slowly creeping in, focusing on Prim rather than everything else her brain was set on mulling over. Turning to look at the pretty blonde, officially not caring that she probably looked far from pretty right now, Chey frowned. “Primrose, will you stop wriggling and twitching? You’re making me nervous. I don’t want you twitching and knocking the bullet further in or something.” She was half joking at least. “Mom did it to Dad once, hit a nerve and he was twitching for about a week.” She was probably filling the girl with all sorts of confidence right now.

[prim]

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Nodding, Prim made about cleaning this wound too, pouring over the alcohol and grabbing the first aid kit, she pressed the dressing to the skin. Even after cleaning it the wound already looked better, older. ”If you want, i’ll take a look when i’m done with you? Then if she is getting a cold, i can recommend some great cold medicine to sort of head it off” Prim was talking as much to distract Chey as she was herself – the itch in her side was reaching a gradual burn, not dissimilar to way she felt after spending a day in the sun.

Unwrapping another dressing in preparation, Prim turned her attention back to the main problem, and grabbed her tweezers. The bullet had to come out, she knew that much – if she left it in it was too close to the bone for it to be nothing more than a nuisance ; it would just cause future complications. Stretching slightly, as if that might dislodge whatever was itching her side, Prim laughed a little. ”Sorry, My sides itching and i don’t want scratch it with bloody fingers.” Poised and ready, Prim continued the conversation as she went for the bullet. ”You’re just like a trouble magnet aren’t you? I swear, all we were doing was arranging a party, and you find yourself in the middle of a hold up”She teased as her tweezers closed around the metal. ”One day, me and you are going to go shopping, have a girls day, and I swear it’s going to be normal....”Prim frowned as her eyebrows knitted in concentration, using her other hand to clean the wound of blood by keeping a slow trickle of vodka running over it. ”Got It!”

Pulling the tweezers free, she quickly tossed them and the bullet onto the bedside table, pressing the new dressing over the top with both her hands to catch the new, fresh flow of blood. ”Damn chey, i’m good if ah-” Prim cut off as the burning in her side intensified, akin to a sensation she had experienced only once before, a long time go. Keeping her hands pressed against the wound Prim jerked, and yelled when the sensation started up in her shoulder as well – but found herself unable to move her hands from where they had contact with cheys skin.

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[Chevrolet Winchester]

Prim had offered to take a look at Jessica once she was done with the shot wounds that decorated Chey’s body. She couldn’t deny that she was glad Prim had offered. Maybe she was worrying too much. Her ex was forever telling her off for worrying but she couldn’t help it, it was who she was. She was worse as a mother than ever before, and maybe it really was her over reacting, but she had a really bad feeling about Jessica. She wasn’t normally this quiet and she definitely didn’t sleep through like this. It probably didn’t help that Chey had yet to see her baby girl sick. She was more worried about Jessica than she was herself, though she couldn’t deny that right now this HURT!! The fact Prim kept wriggling really was worrying her. She’d apologized and said she had an itch that she didn’t want to scratch with bloody fingers and Chey scrunched up her nose. “Isn’t that always the way? I swear I get an itchy nose the moment I start doing dishes.” It was always annoying when that happened, and Chey just assumed that it was a similar thing for Prim. It wasn’t like either of them knew any different.

Prim continued to talk to Chey, but she could feel the sharp metal scraping her flesh as it poked inside her. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to concentrate on Prim’s words and not the undeniable pain. She was ready to scream. She was REALLY ready to scream. She just didn’t want to. “I’m pretty sure that trouble was my birth right. When I got the name Winchester, the trouble came hand in hand with it!” She let out a sharp, pained groan and forced a laugh out. “But I’m holding you to the shopping thing. I now have a shirt to replace.” She bit her lips together and screamed as Prim slowly pulled the bullet out. Dear lord!! With less adrenaline pumping through her veins, the extraction of the bullet hurt her more than it being shot into her in the first place!! She dealt with it because she knew it had to be done, but it still sucked. Tears streamed out of Chey’s eyes, completely of their own accord, and trickled gently down her face. The girl was brave but apparently not brave enough.

Ever one to compare herself to her elder siblings, Chey mentally scolded herself, telling herself that Ben and Ryder would have probably bit their lip through that and be fine. She was able to make herself feel better by telling herself that they never would have been able to give birth. Men were such girls sometimes. Deklan practically needed an epidural just standing beside her while she had Jess. Chey was trying to breathe through the pain, and trying harder not to laugh at Prim congratulating herself, but the next thing she knew, Prim was screaming out in pain. “Prim?? Prim sweety are you okay? Talk to me!?!” She tried to turn but it was like she couldn’t. “Hey, Primmy, what’s going on??”

[prim]

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The pain in Prim’s shoulder had had overtaken that of the pain in her side, and was far worse than anything the girl had ever experienced before – was far worse than the memories of pain that had decorated her skin with a patchwork of silvery, discoloured scars. Already enough to make her cry out, to try and Jerk away from Chey, now it grew to a point of disengaging Prim lungs, past the point of crying out and screaming and into the realm of shock. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and try and hold herself together, but her hands refused to separate from Chevrolet’s back, refused to peel away from the exposed skin no matter how hard Prim pulled.

”I... i don’t know!”Prim choked out, tears blooming at the corner of her eyes, running canyons down her cheeks and taking the inky black of her mascara with them. She jolted again, twisting and seeing stars before her eyes – authors had often spend entire chapters of prose trying to describe the pain their fictional characters endured, but not even the words of Shakespeare himself could do justice to the agony Prim was enduring as the bullet wound in Chey’s shoulder carved itself a new home in Prim’s, tearing open the skin and splitting the muscle, scoring along the bone. The wound was an exact replica of the one she had only just been preparing to stitch up, but beneath Prim’s hand the original closed up, knitted itself back together, and transferred from Chey’s back to Prims, both bullet wounds quite comfortable in their new found homes.

Prim had never before longed for the silence and painless escape of death, and knowing what lay in front of her once the solitude came it was not something Prim was sure she would ever wilfully desire, but she came close as blood blossomed through the back of her dress and at her side, seeping through the dark material and sticking it to her back. Finally able to remove her hands from Chevrolet’s skin, prim fell back, gasping as the pain resided from the dizzying heights of agony down to something more acceptable for a wound that size. Darkness that threatened her vision cleared and prim curled up on herself, grasping at the air and drinking it in like a man whom had just come near to drowning. Tears soaked the sheets beneath her cheeks and Prim retched, fighting for oxygen and forcing it into her starved lungs.

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[Chevrolet Winchester]

Like I said, Chey was akin to bullet wounds and all that came with them, but what happened next, she certainly wasn’t in a million years prepared for. She’d never known pain go away tso quickly and she’d definitely never known the person patching her up to be the one that started screaming in pain. To say Chey suspected what was going on was an under statement. She knew really, she just refused to accept it. She knew Prim had powers but she didn’t know she could do THIS. It was insane. Chey’s heart ached for Prim as her body broke away and she found herself curling up in a ball. She knew how much it hurt and she knew how many years it had taken to learn to even be able to breathe through gun shot wounds so she didn’t want to see Prim go through that. Chey’s first instinct was to wrap her arms around her. Gently wrapping her arms around her, Chey stroked Prim’s cheek gently and whispered gently to her. “Shhh. Sweety it’s going to be okay. You need to breathe. If you just stay calm it wont hurt so bad. Shhhh. Come on Primmy.”

In amongst the cries of pain and Chey worrying, they’d somehow woken the baby, a faint pathetic cry escaping her and leading Chey to now worry about two of her best girls. “Come on Prim, you’re so strong, don’t fail me now.” And with that Chey lowered Prim’s dress to reveal the wounds and, with no knowledge of how to even begin stitching it up, treated and covered the wounds, she then headed to her bag, grabbing some pain killers and finding some water to give to Prim. “Take them. They’re better than magic and so strong they aren’t legal in the US. Or anywhere really.” Part of Chey was praying Prim would be okay, and you knew it was bad when Chey prayed. She handed Prim the pain killers and moved across the room to unhook and retrieve her little girl. The blonde haired imp’s little head practically flopped to Chevrolet’s chest and as she laid a kiss upon it, Chey could tell the poor thing was running a fever.

Gently rocking the baby, in complete shock she could be this okay after being shot twice, Chey tried to work out what to do. “Prim, I think we MIGHT have to take you to a hospital sweet. I mean I can try and get you something from a pharmacy, I have to find her something to bring her fever down but… I’m not used to treating people who aren’t used to this…. Dad would blink through this sort of wound. You need someone that knows what they’re doing?” Chey continued to kiss her girls clammy face, stroking her hair gently as she crouched down next to Prim to do the same to her.

[prim]

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PRIM had a new found respect for Chey in those moments. This was not to say that Prim did not before – she loved the girl like she might have loved a sister if she had ever had one, but she had only ever known a little about what Chey did, what hunters did, and how she had driven here after being shot? Prim could barely think straight, see straight, let alone keep herself together enough not only to get a bay to safety, but then drive for two hours to a motel in the middle of nowhere? No. Prim could never have done it.

Still curled into a ball on the bed, she barely noticed as the other girl pulled away her dress and dressed her wounds, unable to focus on anything other than the pain that seared her skin. It took her a while, but eventually Prim was able to take control of her breathing, to take the shuddering breaths when she told herself too, not when her body demanded it, gasping at the air. She took the painkillers in a shaky hand, and even let out a small, forced laugh at Chey’s description of their effectiveness before downing them with the water. She choked a little on the pills before they sipped down her gullet, and the movement of raising her arm caused another shooting pain from her shoulder through to her hand, but she did it.

Now she looked at Chey holding Jessie through tear blurred eyes, and felt guilty. She’d woke her up. Pulling up the strap of her dress, Prim nodded. She didn’t want to go to the hospital, but at the same time she knew that the wounds needed stitches – had she not been just about to stitch up Chey herself? Swallowing, prim tried to get to her feet, but didn’t actually manage to stand until her second attempt.

”The hospital is probably a good idea” she nodded, using the back of her hand to wipe away the tears that were staining her cheeks, and grimacing at the black that came away with it. Great. Now not only did she feel like shit, she looked like shit too. She could have chuckled if the pain in her wasn’t making her woozy.

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