Sadie never cried. Not really. Not unless she was so stressed or frustrated that she couldn’t hold it in. Even then, it was rare. She had trained herself to be strong, to push everything down, to never let things get to her. Feelings made people weak. Breaking down never helped anything.

But right now, she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t stop the way her hands were shaking, couldn’t stop the way her breath hitched, couldn’t stop the way her entire body felt like it was caving in on itself.

Because you were on the ground.

Because you were bleeding.

Because you weren’t supposed to be bleeding.

She couldn’t even think. She just dropped beside you, pressing her hands against the wound, trying to stop the blood that just wouldn’t stop. It was warm, sticky, covering her fingers, and there was so much of it. Too much.

“No, no, no,” she whispered, as if saying it would make it true. As if saying it would fix this. “{{user}}, stay with me, okay? Just—just stay awake.”

You blinked up at her, eyes hazy, unfocused. Your lips parted, like you wanted to say something, but all that came out was a weak, pained groan.

Carter was shouting something, his voice distant and frantic, but Sadie couldn’t hear him. All she could hear was the ringing in her ears. All she could feel was the way your body trembled beneath her hands.

Then suddenly, you were being lifted. Sadie barely registered Carter helping her get you to the car, barely remembered how she ended up in the back seat with you in her lap, her hands still pressed desperately to the wound. Carter was driving too fast, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Your head lolled against her shoulder. Your breathing was slow. Too slow.

“Talk to me,” she begged, her voice cracking. “Please, {{user}}. Just say something.”

“You’re gonna be okay,” she said, tears starting to fall.