[Damin charges in, and the movement is enough to distract the man as he turns to block the blow. He blocks it with his arm, though, not his own weapon. It looks like it hurts like hell, although he doesn't react at all. Kate doesn't have time to contemplate the wrongness of it, because she reacts on instinct, scrambling upright and grabbing for the table leg. The man doesn't let go, and Kate is shocked by how strong he is. She can't wrestle the weapon away, but they end up locked together struggling over it, which has the great outcome of leaving him completely open.]
[Fighting in the pits is different from fighting someone with a killer intent. You got rules that protected you if things got too far. There's no such safety in this fight. Someone was going to get hurt badly, no matter what. If Damin was more clear-headed, he'd play it cautious. This stranger was exhibiting signs of abnormal strength. But seeing Kate in danger has erased most of his rational thought. Instinct was what drove him now.
And instinct was telling him to get this guy to stop moving. If he swings that table leg--
Damin sees the opening and strikes without thinking. He slams the metal rod against the back of the man's head with all his strength, aiming to knock him out.]
[That would knock anyone out, Kate thinks, but all that happens is that the man staggers. There's blood on the back of his skull, but he remains inexplicably upright, and out of good options, Kate lets go of the table leg with one hand and punches him in the jaw. It's an awkward angle, though, not nearly as powerful as she would have wanted, and so even though his head snaps to the side, it doesn't do much good. He pushes Kate back, forcing her to let go of the makeshift weapon altogether, and before she can move out of the way, he's swinging it like a bat, right for Kate's head. He lands a savage hit to her temple and she drops, boneless, to the floor.
One threat dealt with, the man rounds on Damin now, huge and imposing.]
[It's useless. She's down. Something tight and hot squeezes Damin's chest. In his panic he almost forgets his attacker. A blow comes down at his head, and it's only through his reflexes that he manages to block it with his rod.]
Ugh!
[The man has the advantage of his bulk and freakish strength. Another blow falls, forcing Damin to stagger backwards into a defensive position. The room was small. Too small to maneuver. There's no way he can dance around like he usually does.
Damin can feel the rod shudder with each hit. He can't focus on anything except the sheer size of his attacker and a sickly, icy feeling trickles from his mind down to his gut. They're going to die here. There's no way out. This is it.
When the man raises his arm to prepare another attack, all the tension explodes inside of Damin. It happens so fast he doesn't register his own movements. He doesn't remember hitting the man, but his arms are quivering from exhaustion. The attacker's on his back with blood streaming down his face.
The rod is bending, but Damin doesn't stop his assault. The man raises his arms as if to defend himself.
Damin doesn't stop.
The foot he planted on the man's chest is starting to feel wet and warm.
Damin doesn't stop.
Even when the arms fall and the smell of something recently dead pricks the air, the rod continues to hammer away. Eventually, a shudder runs through his core. Damin props himself up with his bloody weapon. His shoulders are hunched. His legs are shaking.
There's blood and brain matter everywhere. The smell makes him sick with each quivering breath he takes, but he can't move. His entire body feels numb.]
[Kate doesn't move through any of it. That guy hit her hard, and even when she comes to, it's slow and dizzied. For a moment, she lays there, her head pounding, thoughts swimming, and it's only when she registers Damin's ragged breathing that she finally forces her eyes open.
At first, she can't quite register what she's seeing. There's blood everywhere, slick and black in the low light, and chunks of... something that Kate doesn't want to think about, can't think about. She forces herself up, propped up on her elbows, and her vision swims this time.]
Damin?
[It comes out strangled, very soft. She thinks she might be sick.]
[Damin doesn't answer. His eyes are fixed on the gory mess below him, moving in and out of focus. All he can register is that the attacker isn't moving anymore. Everything smells like iron and it slathers his tongue with the anticipation of being sick.
Cross that. He is going to be sick.
Damin manages a quarter-turn away from Kate before he falls to his knees. He retches.]
[Kate closes her eyes, taking in a slow breath through her mouth. The sound of him throwing up makes her stomach churn, but she keeps it together. She still can't quite focus, and when she finally sits up fully, her head throbs in warning again. When she reaches her fingers up to her temple experimentally, the come back wet with blood. Head wounds bleed a lot, she tells herself, because worrying about a concussion seems far preferable to thinking about the body lying next to her.]
Damin.
[This time it's more firm, and she opens her eyes and reaches for his arm, gripping tightly. She is very blatantly not looking at the man dead on the floor, and she keeps her eyes trained on the back of Damin's head, her other hand going to his shoulder.
Kate wants to pull him up, get him out of this room, but she doesn't trust herself to stand right now.]
Damin, help me up. Please.
[She just won't talk about the obvious. Not quite yet.]
[The back of Damin's throat burns with the aftertaste of acid. His breathing is ragged and he twitches when he feels her touch, head snapping up.
He's seen dead bodies before. One time, when he was traveling with his family, the road they took snaked through a recent battlefield. The few dead foreigners were left strewn across the landscape. It'd been Damin's first close encounter with death, but he had his mother to hide his face into and his hands were clean. This was different -- he was responsible for this.]
Okay.
[Communicating his racing thoughts right now is too much when he can barely string together more than two words together. Damin breathes in sharply in an effort to calm himself down. He puts his hand over hers.]
Here. Let's... we need to go.
[His legs aren't steady, but they're steadier than Kate's. Damin slips her arm over him, standing up slowly to make sure she doesn't fall over.]
[Once Kate is up, she's steady enough, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she steers him towards the door and urges him out of the room, her breathing a little shaky.]
[Damin growls his response, as if how he said it could hide how shaken he is. He doesn't want to think about what's happened. Kate is safe. As long as he focuses on that, he can figure out the rest later.]
[She shoots him a sharp look for the way he answers, but she isn't going to argue. She doesn't want to bleed all over the place, after all, and head wounds bleed like crazy.]
Okay, okay. Let's just... sit down, alright?
[So she steers them towards the couch, untangling herself from him and sitting down slowly, fighting the wooziness.]
[Before Kate has finished the sentence, Damin is crouched by her pack. There's still some gauze they can use and, to his relief, some disinfectant. He sits beside her and looks her over.]
[He rips part of the gauze off to dab some disinfectant on it.]
Just with girls who almost had their brains bashed in.
[It should come off as funny, but his delivery is flat. Damin gently presses the makeshift rag around the bloodied areas, doing his best to wipe off the mess.]
[He knows she's trying her best to make him feel better. Damin doesn't want to think any more on it. The back of his throat still burns and his head is still foggy. He's only managing to focus because Kate needs someone to help look after her.]
I didn't know what else to do.
[His voice is quiet and tight, as if it's been squeezed into a hole.]
[Kate knows how that feels, the sheer animal panic when someone you care about might be dead. She's learned to cope with it, mostly, to keep her head straight, but she wouldn't expect that of him. After a second, she leans forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder, closing her eyes against the pounding in her skull.]
I'm okay. Just a bump on the head.
[Probably.]
He wasn't... moving right. You were just defending us.
[The light weight of her head is comforting. Kate's hand is still warm. It means she's still alive. He must have done something right to have kept both of them safe, but none of her reassurances take root. Damin always told himself he didn't care if he fought. Yet...]
You could've done better.
[It comes out hushed, almost angry. As if he's berating himself.]
You're used to handling bad guys. I always act like I know what to do, but-- I don't know anything, Kate.
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And instinct was telling him to get this guy to stop moving. If he swings that table leg--
Damin sees the opening and strikes without thinking. He slams the metal rod against the back of the man's head with all his strength, aiming to knock him out.]
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One threat dealt with, the man rounds on Damin now, huge and imposing.]
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[It's useless. She's down. Something tight and hot squeezes Damin's chest. In his panic he almost forgets his attacker. A blow comes down at his head, and it's only through his reflexes that he manages to block it with his rod.]
Ugh!
[The man has the advantage of his bulk and freakish strength. Another blow falls, forcing Damin to stagger backwards into a defensive position. The room was small. Too small to maneuver. There's no way he can dance around like he usually does.
Damin can feel the rod shudder with each hit. He can't focus on anything except the sheer size of his attacker and a sickly, icy feeling trickles from his mind down to his gut. They're going to die here. There's no way out. This is it.
When the man raises his arm to prepare another attack, all the tension explodes inside of Damin. It happens so fast he doesn't register his own movements. He doesn't remember hitting the man, but his arms are quivering from exhaustion. The attacker's on his back with blood streaming down his face.
The rod is bending, but Damin doesn't stop his assault. The man raises his arms as if to defend himself.
Damin doesn't stop.
The foot he planted on the man's chest is starting to feel wet and warm.
Damin doesn't stop.
Even when the arms fall and the smell of something recently dead pricks the air, the rod continues to hammer away. Eventually, a shudder runs through his core. Damin props himself up with his bloody weapon. His shoulders are hunched. His legs are shaking.
There's blood and brain matter everywhere. The smell makes him sick with each quivering breath he takes, but he can't move. His entire body feels numb.]
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At first, she can't quite register what she's seeing. There's blood everywhere, slick and black in the low light, and chunks of... something that Kate doesn't want to think about, can't think about. She forces herself up, propped up on her elbows, and her vision swims this time.]
Damin?
[It comes out strangled, very soft. She thinks she might be sick.]
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Cross that. He is going to be sick.
Damin manages a quarter-turn away from Kate before he falls to his knees. He retches.]
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Damin.
[This time it's more firm, and she opens her eyes and reaches for his arm, gripping tightly. She is very blatantly not looking at the man dead on the floor, and she keeps her eyes trained on the back of Damin's head, her other hand going to his shoulder.
Kate wants to pull him up, get him out of this room, but she doesn't trust herself to stand right now.]
Damin, help me up. Please.
[She just won't talk about the obvious. Not quite yet.]
after a million years
He's seen dead bodies before. One time, when he was traveling with his family, the road they took snaked through a recent battlefield. The few dead foreigners were left strewn across the landscape. It'd been Damin's first close encounter with death, but he had his mother to hide his face into and his hands were clean. This was different -- he was responsible for this.]
Okay.
[Communicating his racing thoughts right now is too much when he can barely string together more than two words together. Damin breathes in sharply in an effort to calm himself down. He puts his hand over hers.]
Here. Let's... we need to go.
[His legs aren't steady, but they're steadier than Kate's. Damin slips her arm over him, standing up slowly to make sure she doesn't fall over.]
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Are you okay? Did he hurt you?
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[Damin growls his response, as if how he said it could hide how shaken he is. He doesn't want to think about what's happened. Kate is safe. As long as he focuses on that, he can figure out the rest later.]
Your head looks bad. Let me wrap it for you.
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Okay, okay. Let's just... sit down, alright?
[So she steers them towards the couch, untangling herself from him and sitting down slowly, fighting the wooziness.]
I think the first aid kit is in my pack.
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You're a mess.
[Says the boy who was puking earlier.]
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Is this the way you flirt with all girls, or just me?
[Dry as the Sahara. She remembers that puking, Damin!]
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Just with girls who almost had their brains bashed in.
[It should come off as funny, but his delivery is flat. Damin gently presses the makeshift rag around the bloodied areas, doing his best to wipe off the mess.]
... I'm sorry. I didn't look carefully enough.
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It's not your fault. I didn't look, either.
[She reaches out to squeeze his arm gently.]
I'm fine, seriously. No fussing, okay?
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I'm already in the middle of fussing over you. You want me to stop?
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Not if it makes you feel better.
[Kate's just not going to think about the dead body in the other room, or the fact that they have to spend the night with it.]
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But it annoys you.
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[She's teasing, trying to make him feel a little better. And then, softer and more sincere:]
You probably saved my life.
[Not that she wants to think about how he did it, but. Details.]
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I didn't know what else to do.
[His voice is quiet and tight, as if it's been squeezed into a hole.]
I couldn't stop myself when I saw you like that--
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I'm okay. Just a bump on the head.
[Probably.]
He wasn't... moving right. You were just defending us.
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You could've done better.
[It comes out hushed, almost angry. As if he's berating himself.]
You're used to handling bad guys. I always act like I know what to do, but-- I don't know anything, Kate.
[His hand squeezes tighter.]
I was scared as hell, princess.
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I don't know what to do half the time, either.
[Not here, at least.]
I was right there, and you were the one saving my ass. You know enough.
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[Damin drops his hand so he can curl it behind the small of her back.]
I don't know how you do it.
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[Probably more the latter. Kate shifts closer, trying to soak in as much comfort and warmth from him as possible.]
God, I wish we didn't have to stay here tonight.
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