As Jane said that, she studied everyone's grim expressions.
Jacob, Emma, Millard, and Bronwyn had moved to stare at her. Horace was fanning himself, and Enoch was biting his lip to keep a sober attitude, and his face showed a gleam of interest. Jemma (as Jane was going to call them) looked worried. Bronwyn's clear eyes told her not to talk about it further in front of the smaller children. Hugh had tensed, and had gripped Fiona's hand tighter as he looked up at her. He was quite protective of Fiona and Jane was quite glad he was, for then what would happen to Fugh? It was her favorite ship, after all. It'd be...not ideal, to say the least, if anything were to happen.
Well, it couldn't get much worse, so Jane described all the visions.
Evelyn gasped as Jane finished up the third one, her face ghostly pale. "I-I remember that," she said, her giant bow on the back of her head quivering. "He-He told us about other loops that were around." Victor nodded. He seemed to not be one for conversation thus far. "He-He told us to look for this loop. But it was so long ago..." she trailed off, looking towards Victor. Their eyes reflected the same pain of losing their grandfather. The person who raised them.
"Well, er, either way," Jane concluded, rubbing the back of her neck. "We're here, and we're fine for now. I'm all right."
"Are you sure?" Millard asked, worry etched into his voice. Bronwyn and Emma shared a knowing look. His arm was on her shoulder.
"I'm sure," Jane said, smiling. The argument had been seemingly put at rest.
"Now you're not."
"Yes, I am." Well, it had been good while it lasted, I suppose. [Jane, no breaking the fourth wall.]<Shut up, Mill, I do what I want.>
"Jane, your ankle is sprained, you're weak from the vision-"
"Am not-" she tried to get up, stumbling, and would've fallen off again if Millard hadn't grabbed her arm before then.
"What did I tell you?" asked Millard in the I-told-you-so tone that he was prone to using. She rolled her eyes, and Millard bent down, helping her up. He held her tightly to her side, while Jane looked like she was either about to award Millard the 'best-boyfriend-of-the-year-award' to him, or like she was struggling to not commit a murder or five. Together, they took slow, steady steps.

They continued on like this for a while, until Jane regained her strength.
Millard would have none of it.
"Your lack of sleep, added onto your ankle and vision," Millard said, throwing his arm about in violent gesticulations. His voice grew softer as he spoke aloud; "and your...condition..." he trailed off, and Emma gasped.
"It's not anything like that, Emma!" Jane said quickly, as Horace fanned himself, with Enoch sniggering. "I'm just... sick. Basically. It's a long, long, long, story that would take thirty chapters to tell." [THE FOURTH. WALL. JANE.] <Too late now!> [Why do I even bother.] "And besides, I can handle myself! I'm fine."
"Really? Let's see, than." Millard said, releasing his grip. Jane walked twelve feet, and her ankle gave in. She grunted, and hair falling over her shoulders, tried to get up.
"Let's see your ankle," said Victor, hurrying to Jane's side. He took her shoe off, and revealed a heavily swollen ankle. "I can't fix this now," he sighed, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Mill, you're gonna have to carry her."
"Are you kidding me?!" Jane asked, incredulous. Actually, she said something else, but it was something to that effect. "No, no, no. I won't-" and she was interrupted by Millard throwing her over his arm in a fireman's carry, over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Hey!" Jane shouted, squirming as the group marched on.

Sorry for the short one! Love you! And I'm rlly sorry! <3

I am exhausted and have no time...

I tried to make a schedule but then got doughnuts and softball XD

Send heeeelllllllp 

~M