#hypothermia tw
Whumpmas Night 3: Left in the Cold
Trigger Warnings: Hospital Setting, Hypothermia
Kai and Justin rush their patient into the ED. Kai wipes the snow off his brow and takes his gloves off. He waves down Rory and Elissa. “Middle-aged John Doe. Found him unconscious at the corner of Wave and 25th. Hypothermic and low pulse.”
“Let’s take him here,” Rory says, drawing back the curtain on an empty bed. “Transfer in 3, 2, 1.” Rory, Kai, Justin, and Elissa lift the patient onto the bed. Rory turns to Elissa. “Hook him up.” Elissa nods and begins reaching under the warming blanket to attach ECG leads. Rory turns out to face the nurses’ station. “Anna, I need three liters of fluid warmed, stat!”
“On it!” Anna replies. Moments later, Anna comes sprinting back holding three bags of fluid. She quickly attaches them to the IV catheter in the patient’s hand and hangs the bags above the bed. She reaches up and squeezes the bags. “Where are we at, Dr. Byrne?”
“79.2 and rising. Slowly. Very slowly.”
Anna directs her attention back to Elissa. “Liss, I got the bags. Go get heated blankets. Anything that gets warm. We need it here.”
Elissa rushes out to the supply closet but does a double-take when she hears an alarm go off. It’s her patient.
Rory climbs onto the patient and starts compressions. He turns back to meet Elissa’s gaze. “And page Dr. Howell!”
Note: Just a nice fluffy story between 2 children. Absolutely no whump found here. :D
“Pavi, come back here now!”
Pavi just ran. He could hear her behind him. He had to get out of there. She was angry. Mama Irene was really angry. He didn’t know where he could hide. If he hid in his room or anywhere else in the house, she would find him. And papa didn’t allow them to go to the medical floors of GeneCo. He didn’t want to disturb papa either.
Maybe…
He hit the ground floor on the lift. The door slid shut on Irene’s furious face. She was really angry. He was going to pay for it if she caught him.
The lift doors slid open and he ran past legs. There were annoyed ‘hey’s but no one stopped him. He ran out the front door and stopped. Where could he go? He didn’t know anywhere to go.
Oh. Luigi brought him to the park once. Maybe he could find his way back there. Yes. He would hide there until Irene calmed down. He would hide there until dinner; she wouldn’t dare do anything if papa was there.
***
“Mr Largo, have you seen your brother?”
Luigi looked up to see a Gentern at the door. “No.”
“That’s odd. I haven’t been able to find him anywhere. Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Ok.” Luigi closed the book he was reading and headed towards the dining room. Carmela and her mother were already there. Luigi sat at his usual spot without sparing a glance at them.
The same Gentern came in, “Mrs Largo, I can’t find Pavi anywhere.”
“Leave him. If he doesn’t want to come for dinner, he can starve.” Luigi hated how callous Irene was towards Pavi. Isabella never treated him that way. He didn’t understand how Irene could be such a bitch.
“Pops wants us all here.”
Irene rolled her eyes. “I’m not your brother’s babysitter. It’s not my job to know where he is.”
Luigi seethed. No, she was their fucking stepmom. It was her fucking job to care for them. But she only had eyes on Carmela and even that was the bare minimum she did. “Did you see him today?”
“Yes. He broke my favourite make-up set. Instead of apologizing, he ran off. You should teach your brother common courtesy.”
Maybe if he had a fucking role model for it. “Did you see where he ran off to?”
“He ran into the lift and it headed to the lobby. I didn’t see him after.”
Luigi froze. “He went outside?”
“Please. Your brother wouldn’t dare go out by himself. He’s probably hiding in the lobby.”
He turned to the Gentern. “Call security at the lobby.”
She obeyed and shook her head. “They didn’t see him. They checked the cameras. He left early this afternoon and there’s no footage of him coming back.”
Luigi stood. “Why didn’t you fucking say something earlier?”
“It’s not my job to baby-”
“He’s been gone the whole day. You let a 9-year-old boy wander the streets by himself. It’s fucking snowing outside.” Something in Luigi’s chest twisted. He gripped the back of the chair. He had to calm down. He took deep breaths. He couldn’t get angry. He couldn’t get an arrest now. He needed to find his brother.
Luigi left the dining room. He headed towards the lift. He grabbed his winter coat from the rack. He froze when he realized his brother’s coat was still hanging there. Damnit. He took the lift to the ground floor. He ignored security telling him that they would search for Pavi and to stay inside.
He opened the front doors and he shivered. It was fucking freezing out here. Where the fuck did his brother run off to? Where would he go? Pavi hardly went outside. He…he couldn’t be just wandering the streets by himself. It was so cold. Could he have gone to a shop to wait out the cold? That was it right? That had to be it. Pavi couldn’t be walking around in the cold like this.
***
Luigi looked around the park. It was empty. He didn’t know where else to search. He’d search everywhere in a walking radius from GeneCo. Fear clenched in his stomach. What if someone took his brother? Easy ransom or worse… Luigi shook the thought off. He didn’t want to think about it.
Luigi pulled the coat tighter around himself. The snow was getting heavy. He had to get out of the cold. No. He needed to find his brother. “Pavi!” There was no one here. “Paviche!” Where else could he look? If he was just wandering the streets, where would he go for shelter? “Paviche!”
“Fra…fratello?”
Luigi looked around. He swore he heard his brother’s voice. It began to storm harder. The wind blasted in his ears. Maybe he was just hearing things. “Pavi!”
“Fratello.”
Luigi followed the sound to a large concrete pipe underneath the slide. His brother was there hugging himself. “Idiot! Where the hell have you been?”
“He…he…here.”
“Come on, Pavi, we have to go.” The boy didn’t move. Luigi cursed and climbed into the pipe. “Paviche, did you hear me?”
“Mama Irene is…is…is angry wi…wi…with me.”
“Fuck her. Who fucking cares what she thinks?”
Pavi didn’t say anything. He was holding his left wrist.
Luigi pulled the hand towards him and pulled up the sleeve. A bruise the shape of a handprint greeted him. “Did she do this?” Luigi growled.
“Sh…sh…she was fu…furious.”
“I’m going to fucking kill her.”
“I…i…it’s ok, fratello.”
“How is this ok? Has she done this before?”
“No.” Pavi looked down. “It…it was m…my fault. I br…broke her things.”
“She still had no right touching you!” Something twisted in Luigi’s chest once more.
“Fratello!”
Luigi closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was fine. He just had to calm down. He just had to keep his temper in check.
“A…a…are you ok?”
“I’m fine, Paviche.” Luigi sighed. He leant on the wall on just focused on breathing.
“Fratello…”
He hated that worry, that concern. “We should head back. I won’t let that bitch touch you.”
Pavi nodded slowly.
Luigi felt his heart slow. “Let’s…” Luigi froze. It was storming like hell outside. Luigi couldn’t see anything further than 5 feet. “Maybe we should wait for the snow to slow down first.”
Pavi nodded again.
“Are you ok, paviche?”
“Cold.” He shivered.
Pavi was just wearing a t-shirt and pants. GeneCo was well-heated. He must have just ran out with whatever he had on.
Luigi removed the coat and draped it over his brother. “Better?”
Pavi nodded and pulled the coat around him. “Wh…wh…why does she ha…ha…hate me so much?”
“She doesn’t hate you. She’s a bully. You’re an easy target for her.”
Pavi curled deeper into himself. Luigi could see his breath from where he was sitting. “I tr…tr…try so ha…ha…hard to be nice.”
Luigi sighed. “I know. Some people are just assholes like that.”
Pavi shivered and hugged himself.
“Are you ok, Paviche?”
Pavi nodded but shivered more.
Luigi placed a hand on his wrist. “Fuck Pavi. You’re fucking freezing.”
“I…it’s ok.”
Fuck. Pavi was stuck there the whole day dressed like that. Of course he would be freezing. Shit. Luigi looked outside again. They couldn’t go through that storm. GeneCo was too far on foot. Luigi cursed himself for leaving his watch at home. He watched his brother shiver harder. The ground was freezing; the walls were freezing as well. He needed to minimize contact with anything cold. The warmest thing in here was…Luigi himself. He was an idiot. “Pavi, come here.”
Pavi just looked at him questioningly.
“Come here.”
Pavi cautiously approached him.
Luigi pulled his brother towards him; his skin was freezing against his. He pulled the coat tighter around his brother. “Better?”
Pavi nodded and curled tighter against him. “Does…does this mean y…y…you’re not angry w…w…with me anymore, fratello?”
“I’m not angry with you.”
“B…b…but you won’t t…t…talk to me anymore… Not si…si…since your arrest l…l…last year.”
Luigi sighed. “It’s complicated, Pavi.”
“Wh…wh…whatever it is, I…I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you, Paviche.” He just didn’t want Pavi to get attached. “Why did you come here?”
“It…it…it was the last place we had f…fun. I thought I…I…I’d be safe here.”
Luigi sighed. “Don’t you have fun with Carmela?”
“Si but… sh…sh…she’s so small. I…I can’t te…te…tell her anything.”
Luigi sighed. He knew Pavi was lonely but… “I’m sorry Paviche.”
“F…f…for what, fratello?”
“Pops being so busy all the time. I know you’ve been feeling neglected.”
“Neglected?”
“Left out.”
“A little. B…b…but I had you, fratello. But then y…y…you stopped talking to me too.”
“You need to find someone else, Paviche.”
“Why?”
“Because I won’t be…I won’t…” Luigi sighed. “I won’t be here forever, Paviche. You need to get used to me not being around.”
“No.”
Luigi sighed. “I know it’s not easy to understand Paviche but-”
“I understand, fratello. Papa to…to…told me.”
So everyone knew he was a goner except for him.
“He al…al…also told me that it was my j…j…job to keep you c…c…company. To ma…ma…make sure you we…we…weren’t scared or lonely. And…and I fa…fa…failed that, fratello.” Pavi buried his head into his chest and sobbed.
“Idiot. That’s…that’s too much to put on you.” Luigi held his brother tighter. “You’re too young to be dealing with this.”
“So…so are y…you, fratello.”
Luigi was silent. It wasn’t like he had a choice on this matter. And he was 14, he was practically an adult.
“Y…y…you ca…ca…can ha…ha…hate me, if…if…if you wa…wa…want, fratello. Ju…ju…just don’t hi…hide in your room a…a…anymore. Don’t…”
“Don’t what Paviche?”
“Don’t stop living.”
“It’s better this way Paviche.”
“Fo…for who?”
“Everyone.”
“It’s n…n…not better f…f…for me; Carmela is…is…is sad wondering why ‘Weegee’ won’t pl…pl…play with her anymore; Papa is…is…is worried. S…s…so better f…f…for who? Are you ha…ha…happy, fratello?”
“No.” Luigi hated how perceptive Pavi was. He was forced to grow up too fast. “I’m sorry.”
“I…I believe papa. He’s go…go…going to save you, fratello.”
Luigi sighed. “Maybe.”
Pavi’s eyes fluttered close.
“Pavi, stay awake!”
“Sleepy.” Pavi refused to open his eyes.
He tapped his face none too gently. “Eyes open, Paviche.”
“Ow.” Pavi glared at him.
His brother was not warm enough. He…skin to skin. That’s what they did in the movies right. Luigi’s hand moved to the buttons on his shirt. Why was he still wearing his gloves? He pulled off the gloves and placed it on his brother’s hands. They were too big but they had to do.
“Aren’t y…y…you cold, fratello?”
“No.” Luigi undid the buttons of his shirt. “I wasn’t as long out here as you.” He removed his shirt and cursed as his back pressed against the freezing wall. “I know it sounds weird, Pavi. But I need you to remove your shirt.” Pavi obeyed. Luigi wrapped his shirt around Pavi’s neck. He pulled his brother back towards him. He was still too cold. The storm still wasn’t slowing. What more could he do?
Pavi shivered against him.
“It’s going to be ok, Paviche.”
“Your sh…sh…shivering, fratello.”
“I’m not cold.”
“Fratello…”
“Just stay awake, Paviche. Pops will find us soon.”
***
Luigi blearily opened his eyes. Fuck. Did he fall asleep? It was so fucking cold. He looked at his brother in his arms. Pavi had fallen asleep too. He lifted his hand; it was stiff. Luigi opened and closed his hand to force the blood to flow. “Paviche, wake up. We shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”
Pavi didn’t stir.
He placed a hand on the back of Pavi’s head. It was so difficult to move. “Come on Pavi.” He shook his brother gently. “We need to stay awake. Conserve heat.”
Pavi still didn’t move.
Luigi was fully awake now. He shook his brother harder. “Pavi, open your eyes, now.” He tapped Pavi’s face roughly. “I mean it Pavi. Wake up, now.”
Pavi still didn’t move.
Fear filled Luigi. No. His brother wasn’t… Pavi was just being stubborn. That was all. He was just a deep sleeper. “Pavi, wake the fuck up now.” He shook his brother.
Pavi refused to stir.
Luigi felt something catch in his chest. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. His heart pounded. “Pavi, please. You have to wake up now.” His brother was so cold.
“Pavi! Luigi!”
Pops. “Here.” His voice was quiet. Luigi swallowed. “We’re here!” Luigi heard footsteps running. Luigi held his brother tighter. “Pops is here. Pops found us. We’re going to be fine.”
“Luigi!” Rotti’s face appeared at the mouth of the pipe.
“Pops. Pops, it’s Paviche. I…I don’t know how long he’s been asleep. I…I can’t wake him. I…”
Rotti reached into the cave. “Give him to me.” Rotti gently took Pavi from him.
Luigi just stared after his father. His father was here. They would be alright. Pavi would be alright. His heart skipped a beat. He had to be alright. He had to be alright.
Luigi heard Rotti talking with someone outside. There were people there; doctors maybe? Pavi would be alright. Pavi was safe now. Pavi was safe.
Luigi felt the freezing ground burn his side. He curled into himself. It was so cold. His heart pounded erratically in his chest. It was getting hard to think. He was so tired. He could rest now. Pavi would be find. Pavi would be…
***
The doctors took Pavi from him. They wrapped him in think blankets and brought him to the ambulance.
“He’s not breathing.”
Something clenched in Rotti’s chest. No.
One of the doctors climbed onto the stretcher and started performing CPR.
No. Not Pavi. Why hadn’t they found them sooner? What were they doing out here in a snowstorm?
“Mr Largo, we will take Pavi to the hospital first. The second ambulance will arrive shortly for Luigi.”
Rotti just nodded weakly. “He…He’s allergic to zydrate.”
The doctors nodded and pushed Pavi into the ambulance. Rotti numbly watched the ambulance speed off. Rotti took the thick blanket from the doctor that stayed behind. He shook. Pavi would be fine. Pavi would be alright.
Rotti turned back towards the pipe and froze. Luigi was lying in a foetal position on the ground. “Get off the ground boy, it’s cold.”
Luigi didn’t reply him.
Rotti turned the boy onto his back. His lips were blue. The boy was talking and moving just minutes ago. He couldn’t have deteriorated so fast. Rotti searched for a pulse. It was his heart. It was another arrest. “help me.” Rotti choked out to the doctor. He pulled Luigi out of the pipe and laid him on the ground. He pressed Luigi’s chest desperately as the doctor called for the ambulance to hurry.
Rotti felt numb. He couldn’t lose his children like this. Why did it take him so long to find them? Why didn’t he find them sooner? Rotti continued pressing Luigi’s chest. The ambulance would arrive and take Luigi to the hospital and restart his heart like they did so many times before. He would be fine. They would both be fine. They had to be.
Note: So I asked myself many times if I would kill a 9 year old boy. The answer was: I’ll let you decide. ;)
2. Strangling - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
3. Manhandling - Martha (tumblr/ao3)
4. Hostage - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
5. Betrayal - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
6. Bruises - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
7. Sensory Deprivation - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
8. Severe Illness - Lois (tumblr/ao3)
9. Impact - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
10. Surgery - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
11. Drowning - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
12. Rescue - Lois (tumblr/ao3)
13. Burns - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
16. Half-Blind - Mister Wilson (tumblr/ao3)
17. Infection - Mister Wilson (tumblr/ao3)
18. Sprained Ribs - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
19. Stabbed - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
20. Kidnapped - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
21. Bleeding - Mister Wilson (tumblr/ao3)
22. Self-Harm - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
23. Screaming - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
24. Broken Bones - Lois (tumblr/ao3)
25. Comfort - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
26. Adrift - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
27. Poisoned - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
28. Bloody Hands - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
29. Insomnia - Lois (tumblr/ao3)
2. Strangling - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
3. Manhandling - Martha (tumblr/ao3)
4. Hostage - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
5. Betrayal - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
6. Bruises - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
7. Sensory Deprivation - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
8. Severe Illness - Lois (tumblr/ao3)
9. Impact - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
10. Surgery - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
11. Drowning - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
12. Rescue - Lois (tumblr/ao3)
13. Burns - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
16. Half-Blind - Mister Wilson (tumblr/ao3)
17. Infection - Mister Wilson (tumblr/ao3)
18. Sprained Ribs - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
19. Stabbed - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
20. Kidnapped - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
21. Bleeding - Mister Wilson (tumblr/ao3)
22. Self-Harm - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
23. Screaming - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
24. Broken Bones - Lois (tumblr/ao3)
25. Comfort - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
26. Adrift - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
27. Poisoned - Darcie (tumblr/ao3)
28. Bloody Hands - Clark (tumblr/ao3)
29. Insomnia - Lois (tumblr/ao3)
Whumptober Day 30!
Link to the Ao3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/34210837/chapters/86724184
Title: Hypothermia - Darcie
Prompt: No. 30 ‘Digging Your Grave’ - major character death, left for dead, ghosts
Trigger Warnings: hypothermia
Word Count: 1948
Author’s Note: Bit of an out-there interpretation, but I’ve always thought of Digging Your Own Grave implying the idea of dying alone since there’s no one around to bury you. Best way to die alone: hypothermia.
Stormkrigeren had plenty of experience training in extreme temperatures, and as long as she kept moving, could survive with little to no protection in conditions as low as negative-forty Celsius thanks to her unnatural durability and high core temperature. She ‘ran warm’, as Dr. Schreyer had once described it, but that was not to say that Stormkrigeren couldn’t get cold.
It had been about negative-five out last time she had found a thermometer, which was three hours ago outside a small pharmacy in a town twelve miles south of her current location. Chances were it was about the same temperature now, though a combination of wind-chill and honest-to-goodness freezing rain of all things (fuck, it was only early autumn), Stormkrigeren doubted that it could be much warmer than below eighteen.
Four miles to go. Four miles to the nearest goddamn gas station where she could maybe, maybe buy her next few meals and a Greyhound ticket to Fort McMurray. Four miles of hiking beside the highway late at night in the freezing rain with not even so much as a ski jacket - just a pair of good boots, cargo pants, and a thick second-hand pullover from a charity shop. Four miles to go, and Stormkrigeren was well aware that she was running out of time with Stage II hypothermia starting to set in.
It wasn’t an issue - or at least, it shouldn’t have been an issue.
Almost to the day she had been found, it had been common knowledge among her caretakers that Stormkrigeren was a hardy little thing and much stronger than any human child. She never cried when she was hurt, did not flinch away from needles or machines during medical exams, and hardly seemed to notice when she got a cut, burn, or bruise during her training with Mr. Wilson. Stormkrigeren simply ignored the pain, and would carry on as she always did without ever allowing herself to be hindered.
But now with the clear symptoms of Stage II hypothermia - drowsiness, loss of fine motor skills, decreased heart rate, lack of shivering - making themselves apparent, Stormkrigeren knew that she would need to start addressing the issue soon. There was still at least another four miles to the nearest form of shelter, (a roadside gas station, of all things) so for now she kept herself busy alternating between vigorously rubbing her arms through the fabric of her sweater, stretching her fingers and toes to keep the blood moving, and stomping her feet on the icy asphalt as she jogged farther north. There was, of course, the chance that the hard movements plus a slow heart rate could cause her to go into cardiac arrest (which was why many doctors suggested against rubbing or massaging a hypothermic person to warm them up), but Stormkrigeren had already been in what was likely an unhealthy number of situations that could have lead to a heart attack even at her young age and it’d never happened back then, so she doubted that it would happen now.
The storm hadn’t been that bad when she’d set out that evening - fuck, it hadn’t even been a storm then, just a light drizzle that looked as if it would let up soon. Sixteen miles in that would’ve been a breeze, and the distance was nothing compared to some of the sprints Stormkrigeren had done during her training. The weather had turned nasty less than an hour later, but that was not to say that she allowed herself to slow down in her steady jog north, even when the asphalt of the highway she was running beside began to turn dangerously icy. Stormkrigeren ignored the hazardous conditions and maintained her pace, keeping to the shoulder to avoid any drivers that were stupid enough to be out in a storm like this after the sun had set.
Do not stop - that was the rule. Do not rest until the task is complete.
By her estimations, Stormkrigeren still had another two miles to go until she could rest.
The rain vehemently refused to let up, pelting her from all sides and soaking her to the skin while covering everything in a sheet of thin, icy frost. It might have been pretty if not for two very important reasons: (a), it was already quite dark out and even with her keen eyesight, Stormkrigeren could hardly see shit, and (b), it was too effing cold to be pretty. So Stormkrigeren dutifully ignored whatever sights might have been visible and kept running at her slightly-unsteady pace, refusing to acknowledge that she was definitely starting to lose her coordination, evidenced by every time she stumbled on the frozen asphalt.
Do not stop.
Do not rest.
Stormkrigeren had stopped feeling cold a few miles back, her feet like bricks inside her boots, but still she did not stop. Keeping moving, don’t stop, don’t rest-
The gas station seemed to appear very suddenly - one minute, she was still in the dark rainstorm in the middle of nowhere, and the next she was stamping her feet on the ground beneath a sign boasting of low diesel prices bordering the tiny parking lot. Two very contrasting thoughts swept through her head at the sight of the low building, simultaneously setting her on edge and almost dropping her guard in relief. On one hand, here was someplace where she could warm up and rest and prepare for the next leg of her escape in relative safety - but the other side of the coin was her fugitive instinct screaming danger at the sight of a gas station. Places like this had cameras, and the last thing Stormkrigeren wanted was for someone to have proof of her existence.
Then again, places like this were warm and Stormkrigeren’s fear of being recognized was just barely outweighed by her fear of significant frostbite. It was late, she was tired, she was hungry, she was cold, and she had just run nearly twenty miles in a storm bordering on sleet - in short, she didn’t have the mental capacity to be too worried about anything. With that makeshift courage bolstering her up, Stormkrigeren crossed the small parking lot and entered the convenience store beside the pumps.
One of the first things she noted (besides, of course, the location of the four cameras that could possibly catch a glimpse of her face) was a small coffee shop near the back - one of those little ones that was just a counter with a barista behind it and no chairs or tables in sight. But, Stormkrigeren also noted that it did have hot, black coffee fresh from the pot.
She made her way across the virtually empty convenience store, keeping her face out of sight beneath her cap from the nearby cameras, employees, and a balding customer currently browsing a nearby aisle containing medicine, sports magazines, and juice concentrate. The barista noticed her the moment Stormkrigeren looked remotely interested in the coffee shop, and immediately perked up as she approached, “Hi! What can I get you?”
“Canni-”
Stormkrigeren stopped herself mid-sentence, recognizing that she was slurring a bit - that wasn’t a good sign, maybe the hypothermia had affected her mind more than she had thought. She needed to be fully awake and alert, and the damn cold wasn’t helping much.
“Can. I. Please. Get. A. Large. Black. Coffee. As. Hot. As. You. Can. Make. It,” she tried again, forcing herself to pause between each word and say her piece slowly and deliberately so that she didn’t muddle it again. The barista shot her an odd look but didn’t push the matter and started calculating the total at the cash register.
“Alright, that’s one large black coffee to go. Your total is two-ninety-nine, ma’am.”
Stormkrigeren proceeded to pull out the exact amount in loose change collected in the front pocket of her backpack while the basista bustled about finding a cup and filling with steaming dark brew straight from the pot. She secretly hated coffee with a passion - it was bitter and had always brought up bad memories ever since she’d turned thirteen, but it was the quickest way to raise her internal temperature which was her highest priority at the moment. Accepting the hot cup, she paid for her drink and thanked the barista before promptly downing half its contents without so much as scalding her tongue. Stormkrigeren had a brief coughing fit afterwards but her insides felt all the warmer for it, so that could only be a good thing.
She proceeded to absently wander around the gas station, occasionally taking slow swigs from her coffee and mostly looking out for something to replace her thoroughly soaked clothes - there was a pair of clean jeans in her backpack which were probably only a little bit damp, though her pullover would definitely need to be replaced for something both dry and waterproof. Doing all of her shopping out of local Walgreens and gas station convenience stores probably wasn’t the cheapest or the easiest way to live on the run, though Stormkrigeren made it work simply because while gas stations were rife with cameras, customers were significantly less likely to be identified by the employees compared to someplace that had greeters like Walmart or Costco. Admittedly, gas stations often didn’t sell clothes (mostly because very few customers came in looking for anything more than a sandwich), but Stormkrigeren was in luck as this one had a few sweatshirts emblazoned with sights from a local tourist attraction. It would have to do.
After grabbing a few other necessities - including a hothands packet, a box of tampons, and six microwavable breakfast burritos - she made her way to the cashier with her total already calculated in her head. The man scanned the purchases and confirmed her math while Stormkrigeren counted out a few ten-dollar bills, made the exchange, and did her best to look like she wasn’t shivering violently throughout the whole interaction. Fuck, she needed to sit down. But even if it was warmer than the outdoors, the convenience store was in no way safe - too many cameras around. Except, Stormkrigeren reminded herself, in the bathrooms.
She scooped up her purchases and thanked the cashier before making her way to the little girls room on the other side of the store, shoving open the heavy door with her shoulder to discover that luck was with her and the place was empty. Not only that, but there was a heating vent embedded in the wall relatively close to the tiled floor. Stormkrigeren nearly collapsed in relief when she saw it and wasted no time in sitting down with her back against it while she stripped out of her still-dripping pullover and long-sleeved tee beneath. With her cold and trembling hands, it took her longer than she would have liked to put on the new, dry shirt and yank her damp boots and socks off her aching feet, but once she did, it was bliss.
She didn’t care that she had close to no idea where she was or where she was heading or what she was going to do next, that someone could walk in at any moment, that the cramped space reeked of toilet cleaner and the odd papery smell she had come to associate with public bathrooms - all that mattered was that she was out of the cold. Stormkrigeren slowly allowed her mind to temporarily let go of the razor-sharp focus that kept her alive as she pulled on a dry pair of socks, wrapped her travel blanket around her shoulders, and snapped the hothands packet to activate it. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to relax just the tiniest amount.
