[ Johanna has no idea how long she's lying there. Her head feels like a bomb went off inside it. Her eyes are open, but it's some time before she realizes it and can interpret the beige blur overhead as a ceiling, a normal distance away.
She finally decides that she's not dead, so she should probably sit up. That takes a minute, too -- her limbs are shaking as if she carried a person up six flights of stairs, twice. When she does finally get upright enough to survey the room, she sucks in a horrified breath. ]
Fuck. Peter -- Peter, wake up, kid.
[ She crawls over to him, heedless of the chalk and the salt and the other detritus of the spell. He's breathing, that's good, but-- ] Oh, fuck, please. C'mon, please. Please be you, wake up--
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She finally decides that she's not dead, so she should probably sit up. That takes a minute, too -- her limbs are shaking as if she carried a person up six flights of stairs, twice. When she does finally get upright enough to survey the room, she sucks in a horrified breath. ]
Fuck. Peter -- Peter, wake up, kid.
[ She crawls over to him, heedless of the chalk and the salt and the other detritus of the spell. He's breathing, that's good, but-- ] Oh, fuck, please. C'mon, please. Please be you, wake up--