“I thought you could control the dead! Isn't that your whole thing?” Alex demanded.

Skye lifted and dropped one shoulder. “No, not really. I have influence, sure, but a ghost retains the same free will it had upon dying. My abilities let me soothe the dead, which is what I did by the way, but I can't control them.”

“So that's why you don't just make the slasher go 'poof' then,” Jacob said. “You can't.”

Skye shook her head. “Sorry. My Aspect's authority is effectively absolute, but my powers aren't.” She looked over at Zac. “You're bleeding.”

Zac glanced down. Yeah, there were a lot of scratches, some seeping blood. “So are you.”

“Just a scratch. I'm fine.” Skye moved away from the door to stand over him. “Why'd you jump into that mess? You're not even wearing a shirt. I'm armored!”

“You are?”

Skye tugged at the fabric of her jumpsuit. “This. It won't stop a bullet, but it'll turn a knife or some random flying debris.”

“I didn't know,” Zac said.

It wouldn't have mattered if he did know. He'd have still pulled the child out of danger. He realized, then, that her wrapping herself around him had been a desperate attempt to shield him with her own much smaller, but armored, body. He found he was touched.

“If that ghost was Roy,” Mike said, “Why'd he attack us?”

Skye shrugged. “At a guess? The slasher is influencing or controlling him. Just because I can't control ghosts doesn't mean no one can. It also means we have to make sure no one else dies; the more dead, the more ghosts it can send after us. I can hold off one or two; a dozen might be too much. I've never tried.”

“Oh, great, we have the amateur Grim Reaper here to save us,” Mike muttered.

“Yeah, well, Reapers tend not to live very long so pretty much all you get is amateurs.” She shrugged.

And why were Reapers short lived, exactly? Another subject Zac would have to pursue when they weren't surrounded by enemies.

“Um,” Jacob made a soft squeaking sound and very gingerly tapped Skye on the shoulder. He held out a small, plastic box. “I found a first aid kit. Under the desk, there,” he pointed. “We should clean that cut on your face. And, um, yeah, we need to take care of him, too.” He nodded over at Zac.

Zac looked down at himself. Huh. Some of the cuts were still seeping blood. Shouldn't that hurt more than it did? It stung, yes, but only as much as your average cat scratch.

Skye reached up and poked at her cheek. “It's not deep, but if there's an alcohol swab in there I'll take it. Might as well clean off the blood.”

Jacob fished around in the box, and came out with a sealed packet, which he tossed to Skye. “I think there's some antiseptic ointment, too.”

Skye ripped open the packet, “Nah, the cut will heal fast. See? Already closed.”

She wiped across her face. Most of the blood came with the wipe, leaving only a very thin, dark red line. It was not miraculously healed, no, but neither was it an open wound or a fresh scab.

Zac expected the boy to question it more; but instead he looked up to see Jacob staring at him, shuffling from foot to foot nervously.

“Yes?” Zac asked, resting his arms on his knees. He wanted to rest while they could, not answer whatever likely insulting question the boy had about his nature, people, or history.

“You're uh, pretty scratched up,” Jacob said. The boy had a talent for noticing the obvious.

He held out the first aid kit. Zac accepted it and found a couple more of the little alcohol wipe packets Skye had used. Adding alcohol to open wounds, no matter how minor, stung like fire but it was best done quickly. He noted one cut on his arm deep enough to need a little attention and set about slapping a bandage on it.

Jacob crouched next to him, looking anxious. Zac waited. The boy would speak, or not. Zac pondered a scrape across his knuckles and decided the location was too awkward for a bandage. It was only sluggishly bleeding; holding a gauze pad against it for a few moments should do well enough.

“Your back,” Jacob said after a few tense moments.

“What about it?” Zac asked. He glanced across the office, where Alex and Mike were speaking softly to each other, probably under the illusion he couldn't hear their conversation. He could; he just didn't care. Alex seemed to be convincing Mike that cooperating with Skye was necessary. Beyond that the particulars were unimportant.

“It got really messed up.”

“I am aware of that,” Zac growled.

Skye shifted forward at the tone of Zac's voice, but he shook his head. There was no reason to turn this conversation, if that's what it was, into an argument.

“No, I mean, just now.” Jacob waved towards the door. “In that... whatever. Glass storm. That. I don't think you can reach to bandage yourself.”

Zac turned his head to see, and regretted it immediately. He'd have to just believe the boy. It made sense; the glass had been moving in all directions.

Skye slid across the room. “I can help him.”

“I, uh, you said healing wasn't really your thing, though,” Jacob protested.

“I can manage first aid.”

Jacob leaned forward. “There's a glass shard stuck back here. Just below the shoulder blade. I didn't want to say. Knowing makes it hurt worse, y'know?”

“What now?” Zac squeaked. He did not try to look; that would really hurt. “I'd think I'd feel something like that!”

“I don't think it's in deep,” Jacob said. “But, uh, you don't want to mess with that. You should just brace it and seek medical help but we can't risk that, not with that creature around. And, uh...”

“I'm not likely to go to a hospital,” Zac pointed out.

Skye leaned around him. “Zac, uh, don't lean against anything else until we handle this, okay? I don't know how you didn't force that in deeper but. Yeah. I'll.” The girl looked mildly sick. “I can help. I think. He's right, you can't reach it.”

Jacob shook his head. “A professional should do it.”

“We kind of lack those,” Skye retorted.

“I'm a nursing student. First year, but... I can do this. Definitely. I mean. The only thing different is blood color, right?”

Zac nodded. He met Skye's eyes and saw the same hesitation he felt. Trusting the boy was dangerous. He'd trusted Alex and look where it got him!

“Why're you trying to help the freaks?” Mike demanded from across the room, having finally noticed something was going on. “You didn't even ask if we got hurt!”

“Are either of you injured?” Skye asked.

“Uh, no, but...” Mike looked to Alex, who just shrugged.

“I'm a piss poor nurse if I just let somebody bleed out in front of me, freak or not,” Jacob said. “And anyway, if he hadn't grabbed you back there, you would be the one with a back full of glass.”

Huh. Zac hadn't realized which human he'd pulled out of the ghost's maelstrom.

Zac handed the boy the first aid kit before either of them could think things through. “Just be fast, please,” he said.

“Yeah.” Jacob crouched at Zac's back. Skye sat a little to the side, watching intently. Zac was a little comforted, although he doubted making Jacob nervous would make his hands any steadier.

“I'm going to remove the glass, first, and apply pressure to stop the bleeding,” Jacob said in a remarkably calm, confident voice.

Zac nodded his understanding and braced himself. His back still hurt from before, though less than he thought it should. Probably a side effect of whatever Skye had done to save his life. Just the slightest brush of anyone's hand against his flesh felt like someone prodding at a sunburn, though, and there was no way Jacob could avoid touching him.

He gritted his teeth as he felt Jacob touch something on, no, in his back. He winced, and breathed in as he felt something tug. He heard a soft gasp from Skye.

Then, he felt a small flood of warmth down his back and pressure against what he guessed had to be the wound.

Oddly, none of the process hurt. At all. It really should have. Perhaps the shard wasn't in that deep after all.

“Okay, that's good,” Jacob said. “I'm going to clean this out. Alex, toss me that water bottle?”

Alex handed over a small, plastic bottle to Skye, who'd held out her hand over Zac's head. Zac glanced up to see both Initiative men watching the procedure curiously. Well, in their places Zac might have been a little curious too, and what else was there to look at in this room anyway?

Jacob poured a little lukewarm water down Zac's back and patted at the wound.

“That's a pretty deep gash,” Jacob said, startling Zac. “Honestly, it should be stitched closed but, um. Yeah. I don't think that's an option here. I don't have the equipment and even if I did...”

“What about super glue?” Skye asked. “Isn't there some kind of skin sealant that's basically glue, for like scalp wounds and stuff? My doctor used that on me once when I was little.”

“Oh, yeah, that's a thing,” Jacob said, rifling through the kit, “but I don't have any here.”

“I have normal super glue. Would that be safe?” Skye produced a tiny metallic vial from someplace on her outfit. Where was she hiding pockets in that thing?

“Um... it's not sterile but...” Jacob leaned around Zac. “I need to try something here; you're still bleeding. Is this okay, do you think?”

Zac looked at the little bottle. “It should be. I've closed smaller wounds with that before. I'm not susceptible to infection, for the most part.”

“Okay. Let me just...” Jacob pinched at Zac's back, presumably holding the wound closed while the glue set.

It wasn't the most comfortable sensation, but again the pain was negligible.

“There, all done,” Jacob said. “Man, you are stoic.”

“Probably doesn't want to look weak in front of his enemies,” Alex said, snorting softly.

Yeah. Because Zac had any pride left. Alex had seen him beg and weep from pain already.

“Well, now that we've coddled the elf, what do we do next?” Mike asked.

His question was met with silence.