[ he’s sprinting without thought, pushing closer and closer. training takes over from his pararescue days, identifying the wounds even from the distance, taking stock of their immediate surroundings. it would be easier to bring this back to his place but he also knows that might add time, time that jaskier and ciri might not have-
he recognizes the fear like an old friend from across a room, and he pushes it back away again. no yet, not here. sam can’t tell if he sees jaskier stir from this distance or if it’s just the jostling of the animal, but god, god, that’s a lot of blood. sam feels each piece of his training kick into gear. red circle above them and in some ways, it feels like they have an extra set of eyes, another layer of protection. ]
I can help. [ is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he gets close enough, his own breathing quick as he surveys what he can. jaskier, ciri, the wounds, the blood. it’s his arm, but he can’t really see it through the fabric, and he needs to get them both somewhere to get this worked on. ] Jaskier? Jaskier, hey, you made it, the hard part’s done, but you can’t sleep on us yet. [ sam’s voice is nearly upbeat, confident in the pressure around the three of them. he’s trying to see if jaskier will respond, if he’s still reacting or gone completely, and all the while he’s checking vitals, first, his hands moving across what he can reach - jaskier’s pulse is weak, fluttery, and he’s covered in wounds, scratches and bruises and scrapes and blood. there’s so much blood, and so much sand, and sam pushes away the way a voice in the back of his head says just like riley. except it’s not, it won’t be, and his attention goes to ciri, questions coming rapid fire even as his hands are still on jaskier. ]
How long has he been out? And what about you? Are you okay? What happened? Here, help me get him down- [ he moves to the other side of the mule, sliding his hands under jaskier’s shoulders, trying to figure out a grip that won’t aggravate the wound. ]
no subject
he recognizes the fear like an old friend from across a room, and he pushes it back away again. no yet, not here. sam can’t tell if he sees jaskier stir from this distance or if it’s just the jostling of the animal, but god, god, that’s a lot of blood. sam feels each piece of his training kick into gear. red circle above them and in some ways, it feels like they have an extra set of eyes, another layer of protection. ]
I can help. [ is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he gets close enough, his own breathing quick as he surveys what he can. jaskier, ciri, the wounds, the blood. it’s his arm, but he can’t really see it through the fabric, and he needs to get them both somewhere to get this worked on. ] Jaskier? Jaskier, hey, you made it, the hard part’s done, but you can’t sleep on us yet. [ sam’s voice is nearly upbeat, confident in the pressure around the three of them. he’s trying to see if jaskier will respond, if he’s still reacting or gone completely, and all the while he’s checking vitals, first, his hands moving across what he can reach - jaskier’s pulse is weak, fluttery, and he’s covered in wounds, scratches and bruises and scrapes and blood. there’s so much blood, and so much sand, and sam pushes away the way a voice in the back of his head says just like riley. except it’s not, it won’t be, and his attention goes to ciri, questions coming rapid fire even as his hands are still on jaskier. ]
How long has he been out? And what about you? Are you okay? What happened? Here, help me get him down- [ he moves to the other side of the mule, sliding his hands under jaskier’s shoulders, trying to figure out a grip that won’t aggravate the wound. ]
Do you know if his arm’s the worst of it?