(Keifer's POV)
I adjusted my hold on her slowly.
Carefully.
Nothing rushed.
Nothing sudden.
My entire focus stayed on her.
Not the room.
Not the lasers.
Just her.
"Stay with me," I murmured quietly, my voice close to her ear.
Her breathing was still uneven, but a little calmer now that she wasn't forcing herself to hold up her own weight.
Her hand tightened faintly against my shirt.
"…Keif…"
"I'm here."
I shifted her just slightly higher against me, making sure her stomach didn't press against anything, keeping her as steady as I could.
Behind me, I heard a small movement.
Then—
Edrix's voice.
Low.
Careful.
"The pattern… it changed."
I didn't look back.
Didn't need to.
"What kind of change?" Angelo asked quietly.
"Less aggressive," Edrix replied. "It's… stabilizing."
That made sense.
The system had been built around her position.
Now she wasn't there anymore.
So it adjusted.
But I didn't rely on that.
I didn't trust it.
My eyes stayed forward, scanning just enough to make sure I wasn't stepping into something wrong—but my attention never left her for more than a second.
"Can you walk?" I asked softly.
A pause.
Then a faint shake of her head against my shoulder.
"…no…"
"Okay."
No hesitation.
No second thought.
"I've got you."
I shifted my grip again—one arm secure around her back, the other supporting her legs, keeping her close enough that she didn't have to move at all.
Her head rested against me, her breathing brushing lightly against my collar.
Still uneven.
Still not right.
But she was conscious.
That's what mattered.
"Just stay like this," I said quietly. "Don't try to move. Don't try to help. I'll handle it."
A small sound came from her.
Agreement.
Or maybe just acknowledgment.
Either way—
enough.
I took a step.
Slow.
Measured.
No rush.
The faint red lines on the floor shifted slightly—
but not sharply.
Not aggressively.
Just… adjusting.
"Path's clearer now," Edrix said quietly from behind.
"Still watch it," I replied.
"I am."
Another step.
Then another.
Each one controlled, steady, my attention split just enough to keep us safe—but never fully leaving her.
Her grip on my shirt loosened slightly.
That caught my attention instantly.
"Jay," I said softly. "Stay with me."
A small breath.
"…here…"
Barely there.
But there.
Good.
I exhaled slowly, keeping my pace the same.
No rushing.
No sudden movement.
Because right now—
fast wasn't safe.
Careful was.
"She's fading," Percy said quietly behind me.
"I know."
But my voice didn't change.
Didn't shake.
Because she didn't need panic.
She needed control.
"She's not going anywhere," I added, softer now.
More for her than anyone else.
Another step.
The room felt different now.
Less tense.
Less sharp.
Like the danger hadn't disappeared—
but had stepped back just enough.
The opening ahead became clearer.
That exit.
That way out.
Almost there.
"Keif…" her voice came again, weaker this time.
"I'm right here."
"…don't… drop me…"
My grip tightened slightly.
Not harsh.
Just firm.
Grounded.
"Not happening," I said quietly. "You're not going anywhere."
Another step.
Closer.
Almost out.
Her head shifted slightly against my shoulder, her breathing slowing just a little.
Still not stable.
Still not okay.
But better than before.
And that was enough—
for now.
I didn't stop.
Didn't slow.
Because until she was out—
none of this was over.
And right now—
she was the only thing that mattered.
The car moved fast.
No one said it.
No one needed to.
We all knew where we were going.
The road stretched ahead, empty enough, the city lights passing in blurred lines through the windows. Angelo kept his focus on driving, steady but fast. Aries sat beside him, silent for once, his jaw tight, eyes fixed ahead.
No one turned back.
No one asked anything.
Because everything we needed to know—
was right here.
In my arms.
Jay.
Her head rested against me, too still, too quiet. Her breathing was uneven, every inhale slightly delayed, like her body had to remind itself to keep going.
The pain was written all over her face.
Even with her eyes barely open.
Even when she wasn't speaking.
Her hand slowly slipped away from her stomach, falling weakly to the side.
I caught it immediately.
Careful.
Gentle.
I didn't put it back.
I just held it for a second—
then placed it lightly on the seat beside her.
Because I knew—
if I tried to move it back there—
if I pressed it again—
it would hurt.
And she didn't need more of that.
"Hey…" I murmured quietly, my voice low near her ear. "Stay with me, yeah?"
No response.
Just a faint shift of her breath.
My hand moved to her face, cupping it gently, my thumb brushing lightly against her cheek.
"Jay…" I whispered. "Open your eyes."
A pause.
Then—
barely—
they did.
Half-lidded.
Unfocused.
But on me.
"There you are," I said softly.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
That was fine.
She didn't need to talk.
She just needed to stay.
"Just look at me," I added. "Don't think about anything else."
Her gaze wavered.
Flickered.
I adjusted my hold slightly, bringing her a little closer, supporting her better so she didn't have to hold herself up at all.
"I've got you," I whispered. "You're okay."
Not true.
But she didn't need truth right now.
She needed something to hold on to.
A few seconds passed.
Then her face changed.
Subtle.
But I saw it.
Her brows pulled together slightly, her breathing hitched—
and then—
a sound slipped out.
Low.
Strained.
Wrong.
Something that didn't even sound like it should come from her.
My grip tightened instantly.
"Hey—hey, I'm here," I said quickly, my voice still low but more urgent now. "Stay with me."
Her fingers twitched slightly against the seat.
Not strong.
Just a reaction.
That was enough to tell me—
she was reaching her limit.
I leaned closer, my forehead almost brushing hers.
"Jay baby…" I whispered. "Stay with me, okay? Just a little more."
Her breathing stuttered again.
I looked up briefly.
"Angelo," I said—not loud, not sharp, just enough.
He didn't turn.
Didn't ask.
"Almost there," he replied, pressing slightly harder on the accelerator.
The car picked up speed.
Good.
I looked back at her immediately.
My hand cupped her face again, a little firmer this time, keeping her attention from slipping.
"Hey," I whispered. "Look at me."
Her eyes opened again—
barely.
"Good," I said softly. "That's it. Stay right there."
Her lips moved faintly.
"…Keif…"
"I'm here."
Always.
Her breathing shook again, uneven, like her body was struggling to keep up.
"Don't close your eyes," I murmured. "Just keep them on me, yeah?"
A pause.
Then the smallest nod.
Or maybe just her trying.
I didn't let go.
Didn't move my hand.
Didn't break that connection.
Because right now—
that was the only thing keeping her here.
"You're okay," I whispered again. "Just a little more."
Not much longer.
Not far now.
Just stay.
Just stay with me.