Lock, lock, lock, for the love of god LOCK!

Tyler's hands shook as he tried to lock the gym supplies closet, trying to fight the phantom that was trying to tear it open. You were passing out against him, he still had four hours left in the night before he could wake up. What if you died? Did you die in the real world?! "Shit- shit," he finally managed to get the door shut and he slumped against the wall.

A little groan from you snapped him out of the relief though and his hands grabbed your sides, quickly laying you on the floor, "You're fine, just lay down and relax. God stop crying, it's-" he winced as he pulled up your shirt, finding the harsh claw wounds on your torso. Tyler cleared his throat quickly and glared, "It's not that bad."

Holy shit it was bad, he felt like he was going to vomit, "Quit whining, you're gonna make it think we're still here." Tyler grabbed a bag full of deflated kick balls and put it under your head, reaching for the first aid kit the coach kept behind the jump ropes. "Keep your eyes open, don't go to sleep or else I'll smack you."

Please be fine, please be fine. If you bled out because of him Tyler would never forgive himself.