My foot falls where heavy. Thumping heavily into the dirt as I struggled to lift them in any form of efficiency over the knot-work of roots that seemed to grow only more obtrusive as we tried to push on.

I was never an athlete. Never that into sports. Especially if it involved running in some way, but I'll be damned right now if I didn't consider myself worthy of the Olympics. Or maybe that's just whatever shred remained of a panicked ego trying to tempt me forward with a carrot on a stick so that I don't die. Who knows?

I was panicked, my chest felt like it was about to burst into flames as my lungs raked at the inside of my rib cage. My back cried out in anguish as it lamented my shoulder which for the most part was numb, but reminded me of it's presence after every particular step by sending forks of lightening into my skull. All this while supporting a naked, fourteen-stone man, who was easily the least visibly injured of the three of us, but found himself so drained of resources that not even adrenaline granted the gift of unassisted movement.

He was sluggish. Occasionally pulling me down with each stumble over serpentine plant-life looking to coil its bark around a potential meal. Sweat and rain soaked the pair of us, causing a need for me to dig whatever sorry excuse I had for nails in to his wrist and bare chest, in an attempt to stop him slipping completely.

Aramis was still clutching his arm, and even through the fear, I felt a pang of sorrow when I was allowed to look at him and see the sorry state he was in. His skin was pale, his arm had stopped bleeding but it hung loosely, flopping at the elbow with each lazy step. He could've been gone by now, but I knew he refused to leave because of me. If he dies, it will because of me. Because whatever he felt for me caused him to linger too long in danger instead of seeking safety. All because of me.

My heart hit the bottom of my chest hard enough to cause me to stagger over the next set of twisted roots, the canopy bowing forward, their branches like snatching limbs dared to reach in our direction. I sent me and Flint sprawling into the dirt, but the sound of guttural roars bouncing from the crunching of bark, didn't afford me time to register the mouthful of mud I just spat from my mouth. I did my best to scoop Flint up around my shoulder once more, the slightest glint of hope fluttered awake within me as the stretch of land before us was not only flat, but ended with the back of the manor. A small, rose-red, door shone like a beacon through the storm of fear that consumed almost all of my senses.

It had gone numb now. Most of it. I can't say I felt particularly scared. Everything had "over-clocked" my senses so much now, that I was passed being scared. Despite what my shoulder had to say, I was passed feeling that pain too. Fear was still within me. It was what was keeping my body going, demanding that I take another step. Then another. Then another. But it was separate from me. I was separate from me. The occasional clear, thought slipped passed my mind, like spotting the shimmer of fish scales in a night-blackened river. Slow enough to notice, but too fast to do anything with it.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Crack! Thump. Thump. Thump.

Even in my numbness it caused everything to shake. Like each, furious, step I could hear from The Protector was its own personal earthquake. It wobbled the red door in my vision as I tried to focus.

Just a little further.

My hand reached out. Feeling like it stretched across some great, empty, chasm and only oblivion lay below. I reached for a hand hold, anything, to stop myself falling to the void. It clasped the cold, black iron, of the handle to my back door. The three of us crashing into the kitchen island, and sprawling, sopping, wet onto the floor.

For a moment, my focus is too strained, but I hear cursing and Auntie Janet clutching something bright and flickering.

I pull my eyes back out the door. It's hulking frame just barely visible at the border of the forest. Between the silhouettes of the trees as it crunches its forelimbs into the ground, bellowing out with a defeated fury. I couldn't help but feel a small smirk of victory call a short chuckle from my heaving chest.

Then my eyes widened in panic.

"Aramis!" I clambered over the gasping flint, caring not where my clumsy limbs found themselves, secretly hoping they'd hit somewhere vital, and crawling my way over to Aramis who was on his back.

His head was slowly lolling from side to side as he tried to regain some form of focus, some comprehension to his surroundings. His eyes sparkled a star-bright silver beneath lazy eye-lids he didn't seem to have the strength to keep open any longer. The clamminess of his skin was only matched in intensity, by it's now gaunt and pale appearance.

My heart bled. Choking my throat with a swelling of tears that threatened to flood the entire room as I looked upon this beautiful man. Wet. Broken. Dying on my kitchen floor.

"Aramis, please..." I begged. Pleaded, never having wanted anything more in my life; than for Aramis to just be okay in this moment. Staining not only, my own cheeks, but his too, as tears slipped in restless heaves from my eyes and slid from my chin to drip onto his face.

"Auntie Janet, help" I whined pathetically. Yet all I could do was bleed the words "no" over and over as I clutched at this boy. Kissing the palm of his left hand like it would transfer whatever life was within me into him through that brisk contact.

I kept looking for some form of reaction. Some recognition in his eyes. I remember anger spiking when there was none, when he continued to cling on to practically nothing.

I shrugged the gentle coaxing of Auntie Janet who had been trying to calm down whatever hysterical behaviour I was doing, I could hear the cursing and shocked gasps of a number of individuals that I didn't care to pay attention to. This was a different numbness than the fear addled one of before. This one caused everything to fade. This one would end me.

I stood up, reaching for the knife rack across the counter, and I pulled the chef's knife from the wooden block, and walked.

My steps were purposeful, strong. There were different people around me, Auntie Janet included, but none of them made to stop me. They just stepped away. I felt a wrongness, masquerading as power at their actions. Maybe I wasn't registering things right. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered at the moment. Nothing... But Aramis.

I unfolded my legs as I slid to the floor, whatever shaky strength that wobbled threateningly in my arms, seemed sufficient enough to prop his head up on my lap as I held my wrist upwards. The keen edge of the blade, barely registering with my skin as I pressed it lightly to the soft flesh.

I looked to it. Adjusting my grip with my fingers around it's handle and licking my lips in determination. I looked to Aramis. His eyes just barely flickering beneath his lids as his breathing began to fall shallow. I gulped, looking to the knife once more.

"Goddess... Help him..." I wished.

I let the blood flow...