There's gotta be a way around this. His eyes skate this way and that, looking for some way he can get around-- He's barely paying any attention to the way Tess is retching again. He's seen and heard and smelled and experienced far fucking worse than being puked on; if she does end up puking on him, whatever, he'll deal with that when he can.
He swallows down any residual panic trying to claw its way back up his chest about the girls. He can't just leave Tess, and he sure as hell ain't going to take her back to her home where there's no adequate medical care. Get Tess to this clinic or hospital or whatever it is that she's given him directions to, then go and find the girls. That's the only plan he's got.
His eyes land on a narrow alleyway. He's taking off again, hefting Tess closer to him in his tired arms, hoping to god that alleyway leads somewhere and isn't a dead end. It isn't, he realises with swelling relief when he comes to it. Okay, good. That's something, at least.
He barges into the claustrophobic alleyway, leaving behind the sounds of pandemonium and panic festering about on the street. The stale smell of old brick and mildew fills his nose the deeper into the alleyway he takes Tess. There's another small alleyway that cuts off to the right, heading east; he throws a quick glance over his shoulder back towards the street, and then he's plunging into that alleyway. And that, to his huge relief, has another alleyway at the end that branches off either way. He cuts another right, sees the street up ahead and soon, he's staggering out onto it - and sees the clinic just across the road. Oh, thank fuck, thank fuck--
The relief of seeing the clinic gives him renewed strength: he charges towards it, swings around when he reaches the door, shoulders it open with his back and his elbow, and bursts into the clinic.
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There's gotta be a way around this. His eyes skate this way and that, looking for some way he can get around-- He's barely paying any attention to the way Tess is retching again. He's seen and heard and smelled and experienced far fucking worse than being puked on; if she does end up puking on him, whatever, he'll deal with that when he can.
He swallows down any residual panic trying to claw its way back up his chest about the girls. He can't just leave Tess, and he sure as hell ain't going to take her back to her home where there's no adequate medical care. Get Tess to this clinic or hospital or whatever it is that she's given him directions to, then go and find the girls. That's the only plan he's got.
His eyes land on a narrow alleyway. He's taking off again, hefting Tess closer to him in his tired arms, hoping to god that alleyway leads somewhere and isn't a dead end. It isn't, he realises with swelling relief when he comes to it. Okay, good. That's something, at least.
He barges into the claustrophobic alleyway, leaving behind the sounds of pandemonium and panic festering about on the street. The stale smell of old brick and mildew fills his nose the deeper into the alleyway he takes Tess. There's another small alleyway that cuts off to the right, heading east; he throws a quick glance over his shoulder back towards the street, and then he's plunging into that alleyway. And that, to his huge relief, has another alleyway at the end that branches off either way. He cuts another right, sees the street up ahead and soon, he's staggering out onto it - and sees the clinic just across the road. Oh, thank fuck, thank fuck--
The relief of seeing the clinic gives him renewed strength: he charges towards it, swings around when he reaches the door, shoulders it open with his back and his elbow, and bursts into the clinic.