At first Greg was sure he'd imagined Steven's voice. Everything is noise and pain and motion--too much stimulation to process a new unexpected arrival in all this unplanned misery. All he knows is he's pinned, he's trapped, he's let himself be cornered and if he can't escape he'll die and he can't escape.
Only once the barrage of rock-breaking attacks halt does Greg's senses start to clear, just a little. That person--their mask is on, but he knows that shield, that dress, that look.
"Steven--"
Jamie launches off of Greg's battered body, aggravating his wounded arm and and getting another cry out of him. His mouth tastes thick and wet, and agony blooms in his gut as he moves to keep his feet; the more he moves, the more he strains the crack Irvine's opened up. Already, blood is turning the gray stone around it black.
no subject
Only once the barrage of rock-breaking attacks halt does Greg's senses start to clear, just a little. That person--their mask is on, but he knows that shield, that dress, that look.
"Steven--"
Jamie launches off of Greg's battered body, aggravating his wounded arm and and getting another cry out of him. His mouth tastes thick and wet, and agony blooms in his gut as he moves to keep his feet; the more he moves, the more he strains the crack Irvine's opened up. Already, blood is turning the gray stone around it black.