The cold and wet discomfort is forgotten momentarily as Alicia tries to rise to her hands and knees, but the incessant rain, combined with her jerking muscles, makes the task slippery and difficult.

The only thing she's 100% certain of is that Ranger's face is way too close to hers. Close enough to feel the whisper of his laboured breath against her cheek. Her chest pressed firmly against him is much too intimate, and she flushes a bright red with embarrassment while she scrambles awkwardly to lift her torso off the boy, apparently taking a nap on the steps just short of the front door.

"What the...?"

The rain around him smells of alcohol. Is he drunk? He's soaked, and judging by the watery red stains spreading over his light-coloured track-suit top, it's not all because of the rain.

She's recovering from her initial shock in time to gasp as another, worse shock takes her breath away. Ranger's usually pretty face is a mess of bruises and scrapes, and aside from the washed-out blotches on the outside of his clothing, a darker stain grows from the inside around a tear in his sweater. Alicia's hands are trembling uncontrollably, and it is now only partially due to the cold that has crept all the way into her marrow. It takes her a couple of nervous attempts before she successfully lifts his sweater to investigate the cause of the spreading stain.

If she were a screamer, she would've screamed right now if she had any breath left in her frozen lungs. As far as she can tell, there's a rather deep cut in the side of his upper stomach area. She's no expert, but it looks like a stab wound! Was he attacked? Suddenly scared, she glances around frantically, searching for signs of danger. All her built-in alarms are ringing.

Is the attacker still here?

Her eyes jump from the streaming vegetation, inspecting each branch of the big loquat tree growing in the small front yard. There's no one among its branches. The pedestrian gate was locked when she arrived, and the vehicle gates around the corner were closed when she passed them. The front door is firmly shut.

"Ranger! What happened? Is there someone here?" she asks, shaking him to wake him up.

"S-shook them off..."

That makes no sense to her. Whom did he shake off? His attackers? Did he run from them and collapse before he could unlock the door? Question after question rushes through Alicia's brain in rapid-fire succession. Ranger's house keys are clutched in one fist, his phone in the other, lending plausibility to her theory.

"Just hold on, I'm calling an ambula-"

"No."

He is trying to get up but failing, looking puzzled by his inability to sit up, and then he frowns at her as if he's only now noticing her presence. His semi-sitting position has brought his face far too close to hers again, close enough for her to see the golden flecks in his dark brown eyes. He blinks a couple of times and then looks down at his thighs, still frowning. Alice follows his gaze with her own and nearly dies of mortification.

She's straddling him!

Blushing hot enough to stop her painful shivering for a few seconds in a heat wave, she scrambles to her feet, losing her balance and footing more times than she's willing to admit. She constantly has to drag the skirt of her soggy dress off Ranger's head just to have it stubbornly return there again, wrapping his face in its wet embrace.

Is he laughing?!

He is sprawled, half dead and bleeding on the stairs of his home, and he is laughing at her! The guy really isn't human! At least he's not making embarrassing comments about the underwear she keeps on displaying to him while he's under her skirt.

He somehow manages to wrestle himself to his feet when he's finally free of Alicia's legs and her skirt and leans heavily against one of the pillars intersecting the low walls bordering the steps, breathing noisily.

He is too pale! Ranger is not normally a pale guy.

Alicia hesitates for only a second before she hooks an arm around his back and under his arms, forcing him to put most of his weight on her. It is not an easy task since he is heavy and towering over her. She unceremoniously kicks her bag out of the way when she finally makes it out of the rain and onto the covered landing with her burden.

Ranger sags against the door while she struggles to unlock it with the keys she'd taken from his hand. He almost lands on the ground again when the door opens behind him, removing its support. There's no way that Alicia is allowing herself the humiliation of ending up sprawled on top of him again, so bracing herself with every bit of power she has, she somehow manages to wrestle him inside.

Crashing into the wall inside the door is not much more dignified nor less painful than falling in a tangle on the floor would've been, but at least they're still on their feet... more or less...

Ranger is suppressing his groans, hissing through his teeth, and Alicia awkwardly becomes aware that she has him trapped against the wall and is pushing up against his injured body. He might have sustained more damage than the obvious. He could have some broken ribs or internal bleeding. The thought makes her dizzy with anxiety. She hates that he won't let her phone for an ambulance. She decides that if he passes out, she's calling one. End of story!

Leaning out the door, she grabs the nearest handle of her book bag and pulls it into the house. The struggle causes her to lose her grip on Ranger, and he slides all the way down to the floor, sitting with his back against the wall. He seems to be on the verge of completely losing consciousness, and Alicia knows that she has to get him help soon!

If he dies, Aunt Bernice will not survive the loss.

Between Ranger escaping her grasp and her efforts to pull her troublesome, heavy bag into the house, Alicia lands hard on her bottom, accidentally kicking the door shut with a loud bang.

"This is not fun at all!" she whimpers in frustration.

"I'm having a blast," he mutters.

Alicia is cold, wet and certain that her body is becoming covered in bruises. If she didn't hate Ranger before, she's seriously starting to hate him now! She would've if she weren't so scared and worried.

His skin is unnaturally white and clammy looking, not just because rainwater is running from his wet hair. His lips are tinged with blue and are trembling violently. Fear is trying to choke Alicia as she takes in the state of the boy slumped beside her in the foyer, and her heart convulses with a wave of compassion.

He seems so vulnerable right now.

Sucking air into her compressing lungs, she forces herself to take slow breaths, resting the back of her head against the wall. When she feels remotely calm, she rummages in her bag until she finds her phone. She almost cries with relief to see it still intact and functioning despite the war her bag had been through. When she begins to key in the emergency number, Ranger's fingers suddenly lock around her wrist, stopping her.

"Call Jar," he grunts, taking her phone from her hand and replacing it with the one he'd held onto for dear life during their ordeal to get into the house. He collapses back against the wall with a long groan. Alicia is baffled that he still has that much strength when she thought he was semi-unconscious. She doesn't understand what he's talking about? Jar? He needs an ambulance and, quite possibly, the police. Not all the blood on his clothes seems to belong to him...

Did he kill someone?

"Jared," he says, and even though he's weak and fast becoming even weaker, Alicia doesn't feel confident about defying him. She looks down at the phone in her hands and finds Jared's name already there, ready to be dialled. Ranger must have been trying to call his friend before he passed out on the steps. She makes up her mind to call Jared and get him to call the emergency services while she takes care of Ranger until they arrive.

Pressing the green button, she listens to it ring exactly once before a voice loudly barks at her in answer.

"Where the hell are you?!"

Alicia loses the words she was going to say, hearing the aggressive voice in her ear. Who answers a phone like that?

"Uhm... this is... uhm... Alicia, the girI-"

"Is Ranger at home? Is he hurt?"

"Y... yes, he's bleeding, and-"

"Keep him warm; I'll be there in five."

She stares at the quiet phone with relief and irritation fighting for dominance. That was it. The call has ended. No questions. No hesitation. She wonders if this is a habitual thing and sincerely hopes not. Well, she would give Jared ten out of ten for loyalty and zero out of ten for manners.

Looking at Ranger's pale face, she's suddenly glad Jared lacks manners because the boy beside her seems to be deteriorating fast. Fear builds thickly in Alicia's throat, and she can feel tears burning in her eyes. In the last 16 months, she'd learned that crying never helps with anything, and she cannot remember when she last cried.

Ranger is shivering badly, and his closed eyes have a hollow, bruised look about them. She's not entirely certain that he is still conscious.

Alicia once more considers trying to call for an ambulance, then she gives up and puts Ranger's phone beside hers on the floor. No matter who comes to help, she cannot leave him wet and cold on the tile floor in front of the door.

She pulls off her wet sandals and stumbles to her feet, stepping over the boy's legs. Bending at her knees, she wriggles her hands down between his back and the wall to grab him from behind. Swivelling him, she snakes her arms around his chest and drags him away from the wall to the centre of the short hallway leading from the front door.

She's caught in a nightmare of screaming muscles and a struggle not to fall due to slippery, wet feet, but she finally manages to drag him all the way to her bedroom, one excruciating inch at a time. Today, she is truly grateful that their bedrooms are on the bottom floor, not too far from the entrance and that the parquet floors of the hallways are not carpeted. It is still far enough for her to be close to tears and exhaustion when she reaches her bedroom.

Groaning with relief from the pain dragging him was causing in her back, especially the last stretch over her carpet, Alicia props Ranger up against the side of her bed and sits down beside him. Sucking in large gasps of breath, she lies her head back on the side of her mattress, trying to figure out what to do next. She jerks her head up in surprise when Ranger sags against her shoulder, elevating her fear levels.

Terms like hypothermia and excessive blood loss are falling over each other in her head, spurring her into action again. She must make him comfortable and call for that ambulance like she'd wanted to do from the first moment she saw him lying on the steps.

Stopping herself from thinking about it too much, Alicia plants a knee on either side of Ranger's hips and pulls up his wet track-suit top. A zipper would've been really lovely right now, but alas, she has to wrestle the shirt off him. The material is unyielding, sticky and, due to the rain, heavier than it should be. Getting it off is harder work than she expected, mainly because he is barely conscious and not offering any help at all.

Alicia freezes in place when his eyes suddenly open to narrow slits, and he gives her a strange, unreadable look before they fall closed again.

She flings the wet top away towards her bedroom's open door, not caring where it lands. His cut is bleeding freely, but it's not a gusher. Something she is immensely grateful for. Still, Alicia is sure that it would be better if the blood stayed inside his body instead of trickling down his stomach. She is starting to feel woozy and more than just a little bit nauseous. Dealing with wounds has never been her strong suit.

"Please don't die..." she whimpers, fear mingling with revulsion, creating a steaming concoction in the pit of her stomach, and for a moment, she worries that she might vomit.

"Okay."

She gives Ranger an incredulous look, almost laughing at his response. He certainly is obliging when he's all beaten up and bleeding to death on her bedroom floor.

Pressing one hand on his wound, she looks around, studying the contents of her room, desperately seeking anything that could be useful. Everything is neat and in its correct place; nothing is lying around within reach. Her closet doors are closed, and so are the dresser drawers. She can see her desk with her schoolbag neatly stashed beside it and some textbooks and writing utensils set out on the tabletop.

She regrets tossing away his wet sweater because she doesn't want to take her hand off his wound again.

The floral curtains are open, letting in watery light, not doing much to chase away the shadows or brighten her ever-darkening mood. She is starting to truly panic, about to get up and fetch his sweater, when a piece of material peaking from under her pillows on the bed catches her eye. Excitedly reaching for it, she grabs it from the bed, barely able to control her shaking muscles while she wads it up and presses it against the cut.

She'd heard something about keeping pressure on wounds in some of the numerous TV shows she watches. She's angry at herself for not paying more attention then, assuming that hospital stories on TV could double as accurate first-aid training videos. Ranger's soft moan causes her to wonder if perhaps her pressure is a little too much. She doesn't know how much pressure to apply and how long she's supposed to sit like this.

"Why didn't I bring my phone with me?" she laments her inability to think clearly.

Watching Ranger's trembling lips and the goosebumps covering his shaking skin, she remembers Jared telling her to keep him warm.

"I'm sitting on his lap again; does that count?"

She awkwardly struggles to get off him while maintaining her balance and keeping the pressure on his wound, and her manoeuvres are less than successful, hampered by her wet dress. Her shivering and fumbling are resulting in too much intimacy for her liking.

She has never been this close to Ranger before, running her fingers over his skin while scrambling around in his lap. If it weren't for the blood and gore, this would've been a highly raunchy scene.

It's obscene!

"Seriously! I'm starting to feel like a bimbo in a low-budget erotic movie!"

"Watch many of those, do you?" A voice suddenly speaks from her bedroom door, freezing her in shock. "Well, Range sure doesn't seem to be complaining."

Alicia whirls around, all thoughts of pressure and dignified behaviour fleeing from her mind, as she stumbles and rolls off Ranger, landing in a tangle of legs at Jared's feet when he crosses the floor to them.

She sits up as fast as her spasming body allows her to, smoothing down her dress, using both hands and glances down at herself in despair. She's still clutching the blood-stained wadded material she'd used on Ranger's wound and managed to rub a considerable amount of his blood on her dress.

"No..." she moans, and when she realises that the rag she'd been using as a pressure bandage is her favourite pyjama top, she wails a little louder. "Noooooo!"

Jared is already kneeling by Ranger's side and glances at Alicia with a concerned look on his face when he hears her sounds of distress. "You okay?"

Speechless, she nods her head, wondering how he got into the house and how he managed to be here so fast.

Does he live nearby?

"You should get out of those wet clothes," he suggests, and he must interpret her confused expression correctly because he adds, "I was in the area; I know the code to the gate and have a key for the back door."

Alicia's shivering lips form a silent 'o'. She's not sure she likes the idea of Ranger's delinquent friends having keys to the house she lives in. Especially now that she was here all alone so often. She'd also forgotten about the backdoor where trouble could've been lurking.

Ranger is pale and barely conscious, sitting propped up against her bed, his chin touching his chest, and a nervous sound escapes from Alicia's lips as she uncertainly shifts closer, wondering what she could do to help.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Jared assures her, calmly and deftly assessing Ranger's wound. "From the position and the amount of bleeding, it doesn't look like anything vital got nicked. I'll stitch him up. You did great; you can take care of yourself now. I've got this."

He looks up from his work to smile encouragingly at her, melting the ice in her veins. Jared has the warmest smile she'd ever seen, and she has never been this cold in her entire life.

Wait! What?!

"You're going to stitch him up?"

"Yeah." He is opening a rather elaborate first aid kit he'd brought with him and takes out what appears to be a bent needle in a plastic wrapper and some kind of thread. When Jared cleans his wound with iodine, Ranger groans loudly and wakes up enough to open his eyes for a moment.

Alicia grimaces, watching Ranger's friend dab an ointment on the wound. "Optical anaesthetic," he explains, seeing the look on her face. "It's okay; I know what I'm doing. I promise. I've done this a thousand times before."

"Ranger's been stabbed a thousand times?" she asks in a strange, hoarse little voice. Alicia can believe that; she often wants to stab him herself.

"I'm a paramedic in training," Jared chuckles, shaking his head. "I go out with ambulances over the weekend. I've just ended a shift, so I have a full kit with me. Don't worry, it's my own," he adds, seeing her frown.

Satisfied that he really does seem to know what he's doing, Alicia stiffly gets to her feet, deciding not to bug him with more questions and to let him work. She's cold and wet and probably in shock.

"Okay," she whispers, turning away from the increasingly gorry scene. She knows that her muscles are going to get revenge on her tomorrow for putting them through so much torture. "Let me know if you need my help."

Walking to her closet on shaky legs, she opens it and grabs some clothes and dry underwear from it, and with her bloodied pyjama top in one hand, she leaves her bedroom. Ranger's wet tracksuit top is lying in the hallway, just outside her door, where it landed when she'd tossed it. She swoops down to grab it and take it with her.

Ranger's room is directly across from hers, and to the left, at the end of the short hallway, is their shared bathroom, which she enters, locking the door behind her.

Placing her dry clothes on the toilet lid, she opens the shower door to climb inside, taking Ranger's top and her pyjama t-shirt with her. She drops the ruined garments on the floor and, still fully clothed, opens the taps, allowing the shower to rinse what it can from her dress before she strips down.

The hot water calms her shaking limbs, warms her mind and releases her emotions while she watches the red-stained water swirl down the drain. She's caught by surprise when her legs suddenly refuse to keep her upright, and she slides to the floor where she sits, her back braced against the shower cubicle's wall and her arms wrapped around her shins, hugging her legs to her chest.

She is completely overcome by a wave of tears for the first time in a very long time and helplessly surrenders herself to the frightened sobs shaking her body.

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