My injuries and the general aches from running barefoot and fighting Mannequin had all melded together into one giant, stiff bruise.
This is how the name Bruce came to be. “Hi, I’m a bruise.”
It would be easier to name the parts of me that didn’t hurt. My chest was the worst, each of my breaths drawing a stab of pain from the lowermost ribs of the right side of my body.
No wonder. She kept getting knocked back by hits to the chests, if I’m not mistaken.
It took me two tries to get up from my bed and stand.
Ow.
A quick investigation showed that bruises had spread across my abdomen, yellow and blue.
This reminds me of the aftermath of Hive.
Some careful prodding showed that the tissues beneath the bruises weren’t rigid or particularly tender. That meant there was no serious internal bleeding, if I was remembering right.
Well, that’s good at least.
If this kept up, I was going to need another go at the first aid courses, to refresh my memory on the particulars and brush up on my skills. February felt so very long ago.
A lot has happened since then, yeah.
So much had happened in the last few months.
Yes, Taylor, I already said that. :p
