She could feel a small nudge, likely Christian from the somehow already-familiar feeling surrounding him (his aura, she would reflect upon later), but it didn’t help. All she could see, think, feel, was a hole growing in her brain. She might have been fine if she hadn’t dealt with that being from the Pact earlier that morning. But that alien had already hurt her head, and that, along with this experience, made it all worse.

She didn’t know how long she was in the position, fetal pose on the floor with her hands clutching her head, but eventually the pain receded. It was still somewhat there, like a phantom hand she couldn’t properly cut off, but she could think.

Of course, that’s when it hit her. She had just managed to prove that she was the biggest liability in the whole camp. Without any notice she had dropped to the ground screaming. She didn’t know what really happened in Tutorials, but presumably, Arthur now wouldn't want to waste any resources on her, including feeding or letting her stay.

Still unmoving, she considered her options; she could just try and make it on her own? She hadn’t even seen any monsters when she had walked over to the clearing. She crossed out the option in her head, by Arthur’s earlier reaction to her arrival that wasn’t what normally happened. Option two… well, there really wasn’t one, was there? Beg? Lie? She shook her head mentally; she’d never be able to pull it off.

“James?” Somebody was shaking her shoulder tentatively. Breathing in the smell of the floor (a weird combination of wet grass, dirt, and dust and not her favorite by any means), James tentatively opened her eyes only to close them again. Even the soft filtered light of the cottage was too bright. Opening them a bit more cautiously this time, with her hand reducing the sensory overload, she let Christian help her sit up.

Again, she was in a (now) all too familiar position: surrounded by men. These ones were a different lot to the group that greeted her when she got to the clearing, though one of them was still Arthur. These were a lot more muscular and each had a bit more of a headache attached to them.

Gripping Christian’s hand, she tried to force him to stay. She could feel that his presence was the sole thing keeping her from being totally overwhelmed in this enclosed space. She didn’t want a repeat of that Thanksgiving when any sudden movements could be misconstrued with all the intimidating men around her.

Gradually, her thoughts got clearer and clearer, and she realized that there was even more wrong with this picture than she had initially thought. While last time being surrounded was scary because the men were clearly armed and ready to shoot, this time they were scary because they were covered in blood. Their faces, hands, clothes, and feet all had splatters of it, some still shining, other areas already starting to dry off.

Or at least what she assumed was blood, the drying red liquid had a weird purple tinge to it she hadn’t observed before. Suddenly, even Christian’s presence next to her wasn’t enough and she started to try and shuffle away from them, her brain still able to transfer to survival mode in its foggy state.

In the back of her mind she could hear Christian swearing and turning to berate Arthur, thankfully still holding her hand. She wanted to scream at him, didn’t he realize Arthur was covered in blood?! He should be trying to get away. Maybe she managed to say that, she didn’t exactly know if she had control over her own mouth at that point.

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Apparently Christian was effective, though, because Arthur turned around and inspected the men with him. His own face frowning in disgust, James couldn’t tell what he said because her ears were ringing but they all left, the light from the door opening forcing her to shut her eyes again. She didn’t question it too much. It wouldn’t do to question miracles.

This left her trying to breathe. An exercise she was getting intimately familiar with. Freak out, panic attack, breathe. She had lost count of how often it happened that day. Well, she wouldn’t have if she wanted to try and count, but the number would have been depressing.

She might have even beat her own record of three panic attacks from when she had tried attending high school in person for the first time her freshmen year at her parents’ insistence. Every time she was sent to the school psychologist, the man had just sent her out again for more. At least she didn’t need to deal with in person high school classes for too long after that. What were her parents thinking calling her James?

“James, are you feeling better?” Christian’s words finally reached her ears, sounding hesitant. Suddenly feeling overwhelmingly grateful for his Calming Aura skill which she could feel in full blast, she nodded and tried to smile at him. It might have come out as a grimace, but at least she tried?

But better was just comparatively. She was feeling much better. She just didn’t feel anywhere close to good, normal, or even half-way ok. Testing the waters, he sat down near her, almost treating her like a wounded animal. “What happened?” She was hoping she’d get more time to pack up and move on, but she could deal with it. Trying to get up on wobbly legs, Christian pushed her down to the ground again, gently. “James, what happened?”

“I don’t know.” It was a croak, she guessed she screamed too much for her voice not to get affected. Snapping orders for someone nearby to get her food and water, she felt his attention return to her.

“Anything else? I know you went to veterinary school where your patients can’t talk to you, but in medical school they don’t have a course covering that scenario. I can’t help if you don’t tell me.” His voice was quiet, almost meditative as he continued to blast her with his Calming Aura.

“I really don’t know. One second we’re talking, I’m thinking ‘great, finally someone who’s explaining something!’ and then I just got a massive headache. And a panic attack. I told Arthur I had social anxiety!” the words tumbled out, each one’s momentum compounding on the previous words. Her complaining made Christian laugh a little, probably a tactic he learned in medical school. Freak out patient? Laugh with them, a smile is half the cure!

He handed her a cup of water, which was somehow cold. Clutching it for dear life, she made herself look at him.

“James, I don’t think this was caused by your social anxiety.” Examining her face gently, he sighed, all his previous mirth seemingly washing away from him as if a great burden was on his shoulder. “While we were trying to figure out what was wrong with you, we got a monster horde attack. Arthur thinks, and I agree with him, that you somehow sensed it coming.” James shook her head.

“That’s impossible.” She tried to get up again, but again was pushed down.

“James, do we even know what is possible?” He really did believe it, didn’t he? He was more nuts than she was. Maybe the purple blood got to him. And here she thought she was special.