A weak, rasping voice answered. “Gold. 6512.”
A victorious smile overtook Anthony’s lips, despite the train of blood coating the floor in front of her. “Found him,” he muttered to Winston and pushed past him to kneel in front of a twisted, limp body that seemed to be trapped beneath a fallen chunk of… was that cement?
Winston was just trying not to be sick at the sight of so much blood. He gently put down Samuel, getting the feeling Anthony would want him to carry the agent back up. That is— if they could move the cement. He brightened his glow so Anthony could see better.
Anthony placed a careful hand in the centre of the delirious man’s chest. “Where are you hurt?”
He spoke softly, not wanting to distress his new patient. The man let out a soft groan of pain. “Legs—Trapped. Arm broken.”
Winnie awaited orders, doing his best not to be sick. He focused on Remedy. Winnie had started to grow rather fond of the grouchy boy. It seemed he had a warm soft side Winston had gotten a few lucky glimpses of.
“Alright, I’m going to try to free your legs. Tell me when I’m hurting you, and if you think you’re going to black out, let me know.” Anthony slid his arms beneath the cement block and turned his head in Winston’s direction. “Both of you, come help.”
Winnie nodded, forcing himself to get closer and slide his hands underneath the cement block, ignoring the dizzy sensation that accompanied the action.
Samuel joined them, and after a solid ten minutes of pushing and lifting, the cement block rolled onto its side, freeing the man’s legs.
“Agent Bluebird,” Anthony started, kneelingin front of the man once more. “This is going to feel strange. It might hurt. Brace yourself, and…” He removed a cloth from his pocket. “Bite down on this.”
Winston retreated back to the wall, leaning against it for support. His entire body ached from lifting the cement, and the dizzy sensation only grew more powerful as time trudged onwards.
The poor man could only nod weakly in response.
But this was not the time for emotions, this was the time for a cool head and strategic acting. So, Anthony pushed all his feelings into a little box in the corner of his mind and felt around for a blockage.
It took time—a lot of it—but he eventually pulled bone and flesh into their rightful position, knitting them securely together. The Agent’s legs were trickier, considering the damage that had been done, but before long they had been healed as much as possible.
“Sleep…” Anthony murmured, pressing his hand to the centre of the agent’s forehead.
By now Winston had a red mark on his arm from where he’d been pinching himself to keep conscious. He rested his head against the wall, his skin pale and waxy, waiting for Remedy to give another command.
“Firefly, get over here,” he spoke, his voice still softened. “I need you to lift this man for me.”
Winston began to move, using the wall to steady himself as he lumbered over to Remedy. The stench only got worse, and Winnie’s steps began to falter, causing him to stumble a couple times.
Samuel urged him on, shifting unsteadily onto his hind legs.
“Come on..” Anthony murmured, struggling to cover how drained he was from healing the man’s injuries.
Winston made it, bending down to scoop up the man in his arms. He gritted his teeth, shifting to adjust the weight until he could carry it. “I’m gonna pass out.” He whimpered faintly, started to fumble his way towards the door.
Anthony’s lips downturned.
“What?” he asked, “Why?”
Winston shook his head, simply trudging onwards. “Need to get out of this room.” His replies were getting fainter as he made it out into the hallway, the light surrounding him dimming with each step.
Anthony finally inhaled through his nose, and suddenly, he understood. “You’re not used to the smell of blood,” he guessed, glancing down at his own blood soaked hands.
Winston merely grunted in agreement, doing his best to walk in a straight line.
Samuel pressed close to the other boy, almost herding him back in the direction they’d come from. Every time the unlikely group passed a turn they’d taken, the grotesque waiting there joined them. This continued for almost half an hour, until finally… they emerged into the sun.
Winston immediately sank onto his knees into the rubble of the building, breathing in the fresh air in large gasps. He held the agent in his arms, careful not to let the man touch the ground.
Anthony gently took the unconscious man from Winnie’s arms and set him carefully across the back of his strongest grotesque. “Try radioing Mission Control. I need to know whether I should call an ambulance, or bring him in.”
Winston nodded, but it took him several minutes to actually register and complete the task. “This is Firefly and Remedy… reporting in. We have the missing agent. Remedy healed him the best he could. Please respond.” He breathed softly, enjoying the cool air filling his lungs. Two beats later and the earpiece crackled to life.
”Firefly! This is Viper. We lost contact after last transmission. Everything okay?”
Winston smiled faintly at her voice. “Just tell us how to get him back to headquarters please.”
”We’re sending over an ambulance. Hang tight.”
Winstin nodded, ending the transmission. “They’re sendin’ an ambulance.” He mumbled, remaining on his knees.
“Good,” Anthony murmured, dragging a bloodstained hand through his hair. “Do you need a drink of water?”
“Do you have water?” Winston sat on his knees, the nausea slowly fading as fresh air cleared out his lungs. “You pro’lly need water more than I do.” He sifted his fingers into the rubble, admiring his ability to see everything clearly.
"I'm fine," he responded curtly with a subtle purse of his lips. "I'm more worried about our unconscious friend."