(Puddle of blood) "I told you to stop looking for them." Faina swore, a litany of Russian curses dripping from her tongue as she ripped part of her shirt to make a bandage. She didn't trust the hospitals. She needed a healer.
America tried to complain but it came out like a whine as Faina pressed the cloth against the wound. Fuck that hurt, but her mind was too fuzzy for her to properly say so, or reassure her girlfriend. All she could do was try not to pass out for now.
Faina shed her hoodie, pressing the fabric against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. She would have to get Wiccan to come and seal this wound with magic. While she was not fond of spells, she trusted him more than hospitals.
America whined at the pain of the pressure on the wound, but quickly brought her hand to it to make sure Faina wouldn’t move it away. She was still conscious enough to know it was necessary.
Billy teleported out to them, the moment he got the text. America might be bulletproof, but apparently there were somethings that could get to her. “What happened?” he asked, jaw slack. Okay, not really important, he knew why he was there.
Billy knelt down next to the two girls, whisps of blue magic flaring from his fingertips. “IwanthertohealIwanthertohealIwanthertoheal~”














