Pretty Boy: The Lost Chapters

Brad's Survival Arc: Part 2

"Oye- enserio- you don't have to carry me-"

"I do, actually," Marshall answered with a particularly gruff rigidity to his voice. "You're injured. Way worse than I am. I'm not about to force you to walk for any extended period of time for no reason. It's not an issue. Promise."

"But you're hurt too-"

"It's not that bad-"

"I can feel you shaking!"

Blackened eyes momentarily rolled back out of annoyance before coming to attention again. 

Marshall's fight or flight response was still going haywire, leaving him full of adrenaline he didn't know how to expel in light of the current situation. Fierce rage toward his coven was still too encompassing, too blinding, to fully ignore for him to relax in any facet. A desperate need to ensure his pack mates were all okay took precedence over everything else. Having so much stimulation assault him at once didn't grant him the luxury of focusing on something as insignificant as his injury.

To be completely transparent, beneath his buzzing, hyperactive restlessness, he was in pain.

Immensely.

To the point where he couldn't control agonized trembles—his body's method of trying to force him to stop walking, stop putting off his own care, and to get some form of relief.

But no one else needed to know that. No one else needed to worry about him when other people were struggling more than he was. No one else needed to waste their time or breath to give him aid when he could do it all by himself.

He didn't want help. 

He didn't need help.

At least, not right now.

He was perfectly content with getting everyone else situated before worrying about his own ailments.

Really, it was the preferred route to follow to keep him from stressing to the point of becoming anxious.

Sam turned around to face both vampires. "Marsh-"

"I've got it- I've got him. It's fine. I'm fine." Marshall clenched his jaw to hold back a harsh wince. "A little gash like this is nothing. Besides, we're hardly two minutes from getting to where we need to be. There's no reason to slow down when our journey is about to end."

Understanding that pressing the issue further might possibly be met with anger, the other pack members simply continued walking without making any further commentary.

As soon as they broke through the treeline in front of the Lahote house, a unanimous decision was made to split up. Quil and Embry, as expected, volunteered to take Jacob home so they could watch over him until Carlisle arrived to reset his bones. Sam, Jared, Leah, and Seth volunteered to stay at the house since there were more of their injured family members who needed assistance. Plus, since they knew how riled up Marshall tended to get in situations when his loved ones were hurt, they wanted to keep a close eye on him as well. Especially seeing how his sense of self preservation dwindled for the sake of keeping everyone else afloat.

The first order of business when walking inside was to get Paul comfortable. A fluffy pillow was propped against the arm of the couch. He was set down in a way to keep him on his side, just to prevent him from being at risk of aspirating if he accidentally vomited in his sleep. A thin blanket smelling of apples was draped over his lower half to shield his exposed features. Then, seeing as his temperature was still climbing, several ice packs were taken out of the freezer. They were nestled on top of his head, behind his neck, and beneath both arms. Replacements were kept on hand to be swapped out at a moment's notice.