The next time she was aware of her surroundings, Marcie was surrounded by white walls. She could vaguely hear Tragos telling her what was happening, that she was strong and brave and could fight this, but the edge in his voice told her otherwise.
She was dying.
People moved around her, adjusted her, poked needles in, but the pain didn't relent until the morphine hit her system and her body finally stopped screaming. She floated a little outside of her body, aware but not aware of doctors talking above her head to Tragos. "There's been a rupture... You should call her next of kin..." She wanted to say something. Tragos was so alone here, out of his depth, and she twitched her fingers towards him. The drugs were keeping her fear distant, but at the look on Tragos' face, a few tears escaped to trickle down to be soaked up in the pillow.
"Hecate," she breathed into the oxygen mask covering her face, her thumb finding the ring on her finger. A gift for a time of need. She had forgotten it in her agony. "Help me- help me find Elysium..."