[ The pressure lifts suddenly. By the time it does, Wyatt is already bleeding and his head is spinning. He's aware of being moved mostly because it makes the pain worse, and the world turns upside down around him. He must have hit his head. Concussion, that's a thing, that's a problem. There's something cold and jagged in his side, and that hurts more than anything, but his hands...
His hands... ]
What happened?
[ He tries to ask. His head rolls against the stranger's shoulder and stays there, while his eyelids flicker. His fingertips are dripping fire on the ground in their wake. Wyatt curls his hands into fists, trying to stop that. He needs to concentrate. ]
There's something...it hurts.
[ His hand closes around the glass shard in his side, and all at once he panics. He tries to pull it out, desperate to just get it away from him. Instead, it starts to melt in his hands. This isn't going well. ]
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His hands... ]
What happened?
[ He tries to ask. His head rolls against the stranger's shoulder and stays there, while his eyelids flicker. His fingertips are dripping fire on the ground in their wake. Wyatt curls his hands into fists, trying to stop that. He needs to concentrate. ]
There's something...it hurts.
[ His hand closes around the glass shard in his side, and all at once he panics. He tries to pull it out, desperate to just get it away from him. Instead, it starts to melt in his hands. This isn't going well. ]