As we enter the Tacony Music Hall, I can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. This place has become a second home to me, a safe haven in a world that seems determined to chew me up and spit me out. And right now, with Kate leaning heavily on my shoulder, her breath coming in short, pained gasps, I need that safety more than ever. I can feel the exhaustion and pain radiating off Kate in waves. She leans heavily against me, her arm slung over my shoulder as I support most of her weight. Each step is a struggle, a battle against the pain and fatigue that threatens to overwhelm her.

I guide Kate over to one of the floor mattresses, easing her down as gently as I can. She lets out a soft groan as she settles back, her face tight with pain. I can see the toll the night's events have taken on her, the exhaustion and the hurt etched into every line of her face.

"Just rest," I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "I've got you."

Kate nods, her eyes already drifting closed. I take a moment to just look at her, to take in the sight of my best friend, battered and bruised but still breathing. Still alive. It's a miracle, really. With everything that happened tonight, with all the ways it could have gone wrong, the fact that we're both here, both in one piece… it's more than I could have hoped for.

But I know we're not out of the woods yet. Kate's injuries are serious, and without proper medical care, they could get a whole lot worse. I need to act fast, need to do everything in my power to make sure she gets the treatment she needs. I get her out of her costume, quickly ripping through straps with my claws, yanking things free until it's just her and her skivvies. She protests, a little bit, but she can save the modesty for when she's not dying.

I start by conducting a more thorough assessment of her injuries, my hands gentle but probing as I check for any signs of hidden damage. The electrical burns are the most obvious, the fractal figures snaking across her skin like some kind of twisted tattoo, ripping through the lower left side of her torso. But I know that's just the surface, that there could be muscle damage, nerve damage, all kinds of hidden complications lurking beneath the skin. I can see the entry wound, or at least what I interpret as it, and trace the path the electricity took, crawling up into her sports bra and then snaking back around to scrape over her shoulder before vanishing. I don't check under her bra. That'd be weird.

Funny. It's the exact opposite side of my propeller scar. I guess that tidily resolves whether or not she has the potential to Activate.

I make a mental note of everything I find, trying to catalogue the extent of the damage. Kate winces and hisses as I work, her muscles twitching involuntarily under my touch. I can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the unnatural warmth that tells me her body is struggling to cope with the trauma it's endured. Thankfully, I don't find any signs of neurological damage, but I can tell that Kate's muscles are in bad shape.

I grab the extensive first aid kit we keep stocked in the music hall, rummaging through it for anything that might help. I find a tube of burn cream and a roll of sterile bandages, as well as a bottle of over-the-counter pain medication. It's not much, but it's a start.

I begin cleaning and dressing Kate's wounds, applying the burn cream as gently as I can. She hisses in pain as I work, her muscles tensing under my touch. I murmur words of apology and encouragement, trying to keep her calm and still.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

As I work, I can hear my phone buzzing with incoming messages. I know it's probably the rest of the team, checking in to make sure we're okay. I glance at the screen and see a message from Sandman, letting me know that they've gotten Derek back to sleep and that everyone is regrouping at the garage. I feel a pang of guilt at not being there with them, at not being able to help with the cleanup and the debrief. But I know that Kate needs me more right now, that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Once I've finished dressing Kate's non-electricity related wounds - cuts, scrapes, bruises, eyedrops for the cloud of pepper spray - I grab my phone and dial Nurse Sylvia's number. I know it's early, know that she's probably trying to catch a few hours of sleep before her shift starts. But I also know that she's the best chance Kate has at getting the care she needs if Kate's going to insist we avoid hospitals.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. I'm just about to give up when I hear a click, followed by a groggy voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello? Sam? Is everything okay?"

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, relief flooding through me at the sound of Sylvia's voice. "Sylvia, thank god. I need your help. It's Kate, she's hurt. Badly."

I can hear the rustle of sheets, the creaking of a mattress as Sylvia sits up in bed. "Okay, slow down. Tell me what happened. Who's Kate?"

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "A… civilian. There was a fight. Kate got caught in the crossfire. She took a hit from an electrical blast, and she's got burns all over. I'm worried about muscle damage, nerve damage. I don't know what to do. I've applied burn cream and forced her to take some pain meds."

Sylvia is quiet for a moment, and I can almost hear the gears turning in her head as she processes the information. "Alright, first things first. Is she stable? Breathing okay, heart rate normal?"

I glance over at Kate, checking her vitals with a practiced eye. "Yeah, she's stable for now. But she's in a lot of pain, and I'm worried about infection setting in."

She's not unconscious, but she's a little focused on whimpering and curling up into a ball to respond. Probably for the better.

Sylvia hums thoughtfully. "Okay, good. That's good. Now, listen carefully. I'm going to walk you through what you need to do."

And she does. Over the next half hour, Sylvia guides me through the process of treating Kate's injuries, her voice calm and steady in my ear. She tells me how to clean and dress the burns, how to apply sterile bandages and monitor for any signs of infection. She advises me on managing Kate's pain, suggesting over-the-counter medications and gentle stretching exercises to help with the muscle stiffness and soreness.

Throughout it all, Kate drifts in and out of consciousness, her face pinched with pain even in sleep. I do my best to soothe her, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance as I work. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I step back, my work complete. Kate is resting comfortably now, her breathing deep and even. The bandages are clean and secure, and I've done everything I can to make her comfortable.

I pick up my phone again, my voice thick with emotion as I speak. "Sylvia… thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you."

I can hear the smile in Sylvia's voice as she replies. "You would have figured it out, Sam. You're a smart girl, and you care about your friend. That's what matters most."

I swallow hard, blinking back tears. "Still… thank you. For everything."

We say our goodbyes, and I set my phone aside with a heavy sigh. I know I should try to get some rest, should take a moment to catch my breath and regroup. But I can't bring myself to leave Kate's side, can't bear the thought of letting her out of my sight for even a moment.

So I settle in beside her, my back against the wall and my knees drawn up to my chest. I listen to the sound of her breathing, watch the rise and fall of her chest in the dim light of the music hall.

And I wait. Wait for the sun to rise, for the world to make sense again. Wait for my best friend to open her eyes and tell me that everything is going to be okay.

And then to explain what the fuck she was doing.