Time ticked away agonizingly, each second a sharp blade torturing him relentlessly.
Without warning, he reached out and lifted the police tape, striding into the restricted area. The blue veins on his forehead stood out like cords, his grim expression warning everyone to keep their distance.
"Sir!" A firefighter stepped in to stop him. "The situation is still dangerous. Please work with us."
"Back off!"
The firefighter was taken aback, momentarily stunned by the force of the words.
"Sir, please stay calm." But the firefighter was resolute in not letting him through.d2
Then, the radio in his jacket pocket crackled to life. "There's a critically injured person aboard Helicopter 1, needs immediate transport to the hospital. Helicopter 2, please move in to assist."
Another chopper appeared beside it, and everyone watched as the bloodied woman who had just been hoisted up was transferred to the new helicopter.
The first helicopter remained in place.
The firefighter who was holding Seth back let out a sigh of relief, telling him, "Sir, the people inside still have vital signs. The rescue is ongoing."
Hearing this, Seth looked up, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles threatened to tear through his skin.
*
Cicely's ears rang, muting all sound. She slowly raised her head, taking in her surroundings. The helicopter outside her window was still there, but the world was eerily silent. A heavy weight pressed against her from behind.
She suddenly remembered the figure who had lunged toward her just before the explosion. Her eyes widened in terror, and just as she began to push herself up, the weight behind her lightened, and a familiar form fell beside her.
"Issac..." She quickly knelt and turned, pulling Issac into her arms. "Issac, are you okay?"
She hugged him tight, crying in a panic, wiping the blood from the corners of his mouth, his nose, his eyes, and his ears. "What do we do? Issac, what do we do? Please, I'm scared."
Her cries were desperate, a profound helplessness and sorrow in her voice.
Issac, watching her lips move, guessed what she was saying. Seeing her panicked face and tears, he knew she was crying for him. It seemed like the first time.
It pained him even more that he couldn't hear her sobs.
He had succeeded in being the most trusted and dependable person by her side.
He reached out to wipe away the tears streaming down Cicely's face. "I'm okay, don't be scared." With those words, a gush of blood spilled from his mouth.
Cicely's eyes filled with terror, and instinctively, she tried to staunch the flow of blood, feeling its warm trail in her palms. "No. Issac, please be alright. I'm scared, I'm so scared. Don't leave me."
She cried like a child, fear overriding everything else. She had always been bold and brash, willfully indulgent because Issac had always been there, giving her the courage to face anything.
She had never truly been afraid.
Not like she was now.
Dad scared her, and Issac had to scare her, too.
Issac swallowed hard, fighting down the metallic taste that flooded his mouth again. He moved, and a searing pain shot through his back. He winced, swallowing back the blood.
He gently lifted Cicely onto her feet, a wave of relief washing over him as he noted she was unscathed. Her preservation caused a smile to unfurl across his bloody face. Guiding her to the window, he supported her arm as he aided her in climbing out.
The firefighter in the helicopter reached out to pull her aboard. As soon as Cicely was on the aircraft, she turned back, her face filled with hope, looking for Issac.
Issac stood by the window, smiling at her once more. Cicely's mind went blank. She rushed to the edge of the helicopter, held back by the firefighter. "Issac, come on. Get on the helicopter."
Issac's face held an unchanging, heartfelt grin. He pointed upwards and said something to her.
Cicely thought she could hear a little now, but still couldn't make out his words. However, she saw his lips clearly form three words—
[Wait for me].
He was asking her to wait. But why?
She shook her head, crying out, "Issac, come on. What are you doing?"
Issac stood silently, watching her for a moment, then suddenly turned and walked back inside.
"Issac!" Her piercing scream echoed, even reaching the crowd fifteen floors below.
Seth felt a painful throb in his brow. She was alive!
The firefighter held onto the distraught Cicely firmly, reminding her, "Miss, he was pointing to the upper floors; he's probably asking you to wait for him up there."
Cicely's sobbing ceased for a moment. She then quickly grasped the firefighter's hand, "To the eighteenth floor. Take me to the eighteenth floor."
*
The stairwell was nearly blocked again, but Issac pushed through as if the obstructions were nothing, finding just enough space to squeeze through.
He climbed towards the upper floors, the stairwell shrouded in smoke and heat, more suffocating than outside.
He covered his chest, coughing every few steps, each cough bringing up fresh blood. The three floors from the fifteenth to the eighteenth took him ten minutes to ascend.
The eighteenth floor was in much better shape than below. He staggered into Seth's office. The decor was understated and luxurious, strict and solemn as if untouched by the chaos. He smiled faintly, imagining Cicely lounging there in boredom.
Then, he found the door to the rest area and pushed it open. His gaze immediately landed on the pure white object at the center of the room.
He walked over slowly, wanting to touch the most beautiful wedding dress he'd ever seen, but his hands, stained with blood and dirt, stopped him, hovering just above the fabric as he traced the dress's silhouette, touching every inch without contact.
Such a beautiful person deserved such a beautiful dress.
He closed his eyes, picturing Cicely in the dress and chuckled softly. She must be the most beautiful. If only he could see it with his own eyes.
The taste of blood surged in his throat, and he turned to cough up another clot.
Knowing he couldn't delay any longer, he wiped the blood from his mouth and turned to the bed, pulling off the sheets with trembling hands. He wrapped the wedding dress carefully, holding it close as he left the office.
Perched on the 18th floor window, Cicely's eyes frantically scanned the chaos below until they found Issac. Her heart swelled, tears streaming down her cheeks as she called out, "Issac! Issac, over here!"
Issac, cradling the precious wedding gown in his arms, handed it off to a firefighter before boarding the helicopter, his gaze meeting Cicely's hopeful one.
Cicely let out a sigh of relief, quietly taking her seat next to him, her fingers gripping his arm tightly.
The firefighter, glancing at his own blood-soaked palms, hesitated to alarm Cicely and instead murmured to the pilot, "Head straight to the hospital."
The chopper touched down on the hospital's helipad within five minutes where the emergency team was ready and waiting. But Issac didn't move to get off. Opening his eyes, which had been tightly shut the whole journey, he looked at Cicely. "You need to find your father," he said gently. "Don't worry him."
"I will, but you need to get off too."
Issac, still partially deaf from the explosion, focused intently on her lips. "Go ahead. Go find your father."
The more he insisted, the more Cicely sensed something was terribly wrong. "Why are you in such a rush to send me away? Are you hiding something from me?"
"No. I..." A cough interrupted him, and blood spilled from his mouth. Cicely reached out instinctively to catch it, her hand coming back sticky with blood. She froze, turning to see his back, only to find the helicopter seat soaked in red. A pool of blood had accumulated beneath him.
For a few seconds, she was speechless, then panic set in. "Doctor! Doctor! We need help here."
"Miss," Issac began, grabbing her wrist as she started to cry again.
Cicely looked down, her eyes glazed with tears, "No. I don’t want that. You need treatment now."
"Miss, I'm sorry." Issac cut her off with a voice weak but firm.
She stared at him, quieting down a bit as he smiled weakly, glancing at the wedding dress wrapped in a sheet beside him.
"I saw the dress, it's beautiful. Good thing I managed to get it back for you." He paused as the helicopter's engines began to quiet down. In the silence, his words were crystal clear. "But I guess this will be the last thing I can do for you."
Cicely's face turned pale, her lips trembling as Issac continued.
"You told me missing your wedding would break your heart more than if anyone else did, apart from the groom, of course. That made me happy. I promised to always be there for you, but I'm sorry, Miss. I think I'm going to have to break that promise."
Cicely shook her head, "I won't allow you to break your promise. You said you'd be there for all the important moments in my life. Aren't you always the one who keeps your word? I won't let you break it."
"Having your trust and reliance has been enough for me. I wanted to protect you, always, but it seems I can't this time. The greatest regret is not wearing the suit you picked for me, and not being there to give you away."
Cicely wept like a child, just as she had in the helicopter. "Issac, I can't bear these words. Don't leave me. Dad's sick. I'm scared. I'm scared without you. Please, don't say these things. I beg you."
Issac swallowed hard, his heart aching for Cicely, yet feeling powerless to help. He knew his own body all too well, and he knew she was truly scared now. Too many things had happened that day, and she had endured far too much. She needed someone by her side more than anything else - but all he seemed to be doing was upsetting her further.
*
Creighton was still in resuscitation. Issac was wheeled into the adjacent emergency room.
Cicely, numb and ghost-like, couldn't believe that the two men who loved her most were now fighting for their lives.
What kind of day was this? A day that plunged her from heaven into hell.
She knelt outside Creighton's operating room, eerily calm, the calmness almost terrifying.
Seth arrived at the hospital to find Cicely in this state. He approached and tried to lift her up, but her voice stopped him cold. "Don't touch me."
"The floor is cold," he said softly.
Cicely remained silent.
"Cicely..."
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