Peter's Evey had been murmuring words of encouragement to her throughout the painful trudge from the top of 8th Street to the doors of the hospital. And it was painful, every limping step, every jarring movement. Save for the wet lines on her face, she was covered in debris, but that was not even close to the worst of it. Whatever landed on the left side of her hit her shoulder first, and her shoulder had taken the brunt of the force. She couldn't even move it now, and she couldn't cradle it with her other arm -- because that one was clinging for dear life to Evey's waist. The woman would have bruises that Leeloo would regret deeply. But Evey didn't say a word about it -- she just kept on telling her that they were close, that it was going to be all right very soon.
Compared to the dark, dirty world, the hospital was a haven. The floors were shining, the lights were still working... And somewhere in here, she'd find Peter. She wanted to ask if Evey knew where, but that meant opening her mouth. It wouldn't be words that came out, then; she knew that for sure. So keeping her teeth firmly clamped, keeping her lips tightly sealed, she drove onward, trusting in Peter's Evey to lead the way.
Behind her, she could hear the footsteps of the wizard she called a friend. She wanted very much to thank him for getting her out, for getting Edward out, and for bringing him with them. Peter wanted them both.
Her vision was blurring at the edges. Under the muck covering her face and the back of her neck, she could feel herself sweating.
"It's just a little further, now," Evey assured her in that quiet, calming, accented voice. Leeloo nodded.