She had no idea if it had been seconds or hours.
At least the downpour had turned merciless, washing away most of the grime and blood clinging stubbornly to her skin.
She drifted into a district with more light and realized she'd crossed out of the Containment Zone. To her own surprise, her aimless steps had carried her exactly to someone who could help her now.
She leaned against a wall and fumbled for her communicator. Cursed under her breath when she realized her fingers trembling. Even so, she managed to type out a message and shove the device into the side pocket of her pack.
A few more staggered steps. Breath uneven, chest tight. Numbness weighed her down until she pressed her shoulder against the side of a building, letting the torrent soak her through.
The communicator buzzed. Eyes closed, she forced herself to draw it out. It took raw willpower to pry them open again.
The sound she made was barely a sigh of relief before she accepted the incoming call.
It was Voss.
— "Where are you, Lyn?!"
A blurred image flickered above the communicator, his voice tight with worry. Dot shoved herself off the wall with brutal effort and stumbled around the corner. Just a few meters ahead, she saw him.
She managed only a handful of uneven steps before the darkness folded her completely into its arms.
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
— ...Lyn... Lyn, wake up.
The hand on her shoulder was large and calloused, yet gentle. Dot mumbled, clinging to the comfort of sleep. Voss urged her again, and at last her eyes began to open.
The snap back into reality made her jolt upright, shoving Voss so hard he nearly toppled off the chair.
— Easy, girl. You're alright.
His voice was as soft as his touch.
Dr. Elian Voss had never matched his appearance. Nearly two meters tall, with a thick beard and massive arms, he was the kind of man who startled people at first sight. Yet the moment he spoke, that deep, serene tone transformed him — turning the ogre into something closer to a kindly Santa Claus.
Dot clutched the sheet around her, eyes still struggling to adjust. At some point she must have blacked out. Then she noticed her left arm, wrapped neatly in bandages. Her gaze flicked back to Voss, who watched her with that patient calm of his, as if he had all the time in the world for her to catch up.
— Voss... I... —
He raised a hand, stopping her. She exhaled, long and heavy, eyes shifting forward to nowhere in particular.
—You're hurt bad, Lyn. —he said, voice soft yet edged with firmness. — From the bruising, I'd say you cracked a rib. But you'll pull through. — his eyes crinkled shut as he smiled. — You always do, don't you, kiddo?
Dot couldn't help smiling back.
— Sorry for dropping by uninvited, Voss. There was a... detour, tonight.
— I figured. — he replied, smiling in that way of his, half-scolding but never able to follow through. — And how big a detour are we talking?
— Massive. — she murmured.
...wow.
Silence stretched between them. Before she could respond, Voss braced himself on the bed and rose from the stool.
— Alright then. Eat some soup, get some rest. We'll talk in the morning.
— Voss, I can't... —
He cut her off with a sharp click of his tongue.
— Doctor's orders, kiddo. Stay put.
Dot gave in. She knew she'd never win this argument with him, and she hadn't even begun to process the magnitude of the mess she'd stepped into.
She collapsed back onto the bed, surrendering.
For now, she would obey him, and only him.
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