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When she heard the clatter of metal, Goal pressed herself to the iron sheet that had formed a wall before her.
“Rufus? What’s the matter?”
Blood.
Blood was the matter.
Thick rivulets were running down his arm, soaking his skin in red. His palm was slick and wet, leaving his grasp on the crowbar non-existent.
“E-Everything’s fine, no need to worry your pretty lil head! Just sit tight and let the amazing Rufus get you out of there.”
He retrieved the tool with his dry hand, and did his best to wipe the remaining liquid off on his coat. An overall awkward experience with just one arm.
“If you say so…”
Her voice was muffled by the layers of trash that had fallen around them, but it was clear this one piece was the only thing standing in the way here. If it could be moved, it would be just like a door, so he shook his head and got to work trying to lever it out of the way.
Goal sat herself on the floor, focusing on steadying her breath and quelling the shake in her limbs. It had all happened so suddenly, the building they'd been wandering through shifting and crumbling in an instant.
Rufus had been infront of her, but the moment he heard the shift he'd jumped to push her back, saving her from being just a smear amongst the rust. Though, they were now trapped, and it didn’t seem the situation would change anytime soon.
Five, maybe ten minutes passed with just the sound of breathing and the repetitive clang of whatever Rufus was using, before the building groaned again.
“Shuuuuush! I’m working here!”
“Maybe you should take a break? You sound out of breath.”
“Nah, I’m good, can’t leave a lady waiting now can I- Hrn.”
There was the metal clatter again, and a muffled thump.
“Rufus?!”
A cough, “Ah, slipped over. Think there's… gasoline... on the floor…”
“Please be careful. If it's gas, don’t make any sparks.”
“I know what I’m doing! Geez just let me do my saviour thing alright?”
The closer she shuffled to the barrier, the clearer she could hear his laboured breathing. He went back to whatever he’d been trying to do to connect them, eliciting more ominous sounds from the remaining structure. He really could be stubborn in the worst kind of way.
But he was working so hard, and here she was just sitting around. Her heart was steady once more, so it was time to take action. Rufus liked playing the hero, but Goal felt she could be more than the damsel right now.
Her space was around three by five, lit by skylight that was much too high to reach. The floors above had sunken in each side, and while some of the more cracked ones looked climbable, their last connections quivered with each clunk, unlikely to support her weight. The next spot was where the hall behind her had once been, now littered with debris. She moved some of the smaller pieces carefully, and when the building didn’t protest, she got enough aside to form a small tunnel.
“Rufus! I think I can go back the way we came in. I’m going to see how far I can get. If I get out, I’ll try to circle around.”
“Hu? Wh- Goal wait! If you- I can’t be the hero if you’re rescuing yourself!”
She laughed, “So you’re saying I can’t be your hero?”
“Well, no that’s kinda cool b-but I’m already being heroic! You’ll just be stealing from me.”
“It’s only if I find a way. If there's nothing, I’ll come back and wait for my big hero to save me, okay?”
She didn’t hear anything more in the next few moments, so she crouched and began to enter the tunnel.
“Be back soon!”
A few moments more passed, but Rufus didn’t move. He just... wavered.
“...Goal?”
Silence.
“Goal?”
That was a lie. There was a dripping. Possibly. It was hard to tell over the whooshing sound in his ears, but the warm blood still running down his arm making a slippery puddle beneath him must have been making a noise.
“Goal!”
Why wasn’t she responding? Had something happened? Maybe she was hurt! It was up to him to save her from whatever fate had befallen her!
He swung the crowbar-
-!
Hm?
Had ants always been that big? They were funny little things, with those wide spread eyes and funny little pinchy mouths and wiggly antenna- Oooh. He was on the ground, that was why they were so big! Silly Rufus. Now was not the time to be lying around in a puddle, he needed to be… ah... hm... What had he been doing?
His tongue was dry, leaving a weird taste in his mouth. Thinking while thirsty was never helpful, so it was a good thing he had a puddle ready and waiting. A couple of laps of the tongue would work.
‘ Mmmh, metally.’
Okay, next step- Remember what he’d been doing.
Remember.
Reeememberrrrr.
“…”
Maybe his surroundings would help? There was trash, junk, rubble, ants, puddle, crowbar- Oh, yes, crowbar! He'd been walking along and saw a really cool looking doohickey under a pillar, so he was using the crowbar to dislodged it.
Ha ha! The ever clever Rufus would not be stopped, he just had to grab it and the prize would be his!
“…”
Oooor not. Because apparently some part of his body didn’t want to listen. Rude. Left arm to the rescue of the right it seemed, just as soon as he could wiggle it out from under him. The puddle was both a help and a hindrance, so he could go side to side, but pushing down was just too slippery. He felt like some awkward starfish with one in front and one behind. Now he just had to twist around enough to grab.
“…”
Why was this so hard?! He was just grabbing a crowbar, nothing he hadn't done before ( Probably ? He could recall any times actually using one right now). Rolling further over had him groaning and put him face first in the puddle, but his shoulder now had enough free range to swing up, letting his hand wrap around the tool.
“Ha! And I remain undefeated! Everyone cheers for Ruuufus!”
His shout caused more of the puddle to hydrate his mouth. Yum , like licking scrap to find the best pieces. His new pose also meant he could use both his forehead and outstretched arm to defeat the slick, inching like a caterpillar, drawing his knees iiiin- and he was upright!
“Now where’s my prize?”
He looked around, scanning the rubble for that thingy-mcwhatsit he’d seen before. There was more junk than his memory held, so he might just have to take a guess. He scooted over to one pile, and began to dig with the crowbar. Dig, dig, dig.
“...”
Dig. Dig. Dig.
“...”
Dig. Dig. Dig.
“...”
Dig. Dig- what on earth was he doing?
His left side hurt, and there was a wet, sticky feeling all over him. So why the hell was he digging through trash?
“Huh, did I fall down a junk mine again? Gizmo isn’t going to be happy with me.”
He sat the crowbar beside him and reached around to his left shoulder, feeling for where the stinging sensation was coming from. His fingers brushed something that seemed to be protruding out, and the pain increased.
“Argh, what the hell is that?”
He grabbed it, then squirmed and shouted as he tried to pull it out. It was stubborn, to the point he wondered if it was one of his bones protruding through his skin, but eventually it came free, leaving a new warm sensation running down his back. He swayed on the spot, trying to focus on the new item in his hand.
“ Rufus? ”
Hm. It sounded like someone was calling his name. But he couldn’t focus on the thing and the voice, so he shoved the sharp thing in his pocket.
“ Rufus, are you there?”
What a sweet voice. No way that was Toni, she’d be spitting fire if she knew the situation he was in. Though he was kinda cold, so fire would be appreciated right now.
“ J-just stay calm, back away from the wall if possible.”
Mmmh, moving was the last thing he felt like doing, so he was just going to stay still. Perfectly still ( okay maybe just a little bit of swaying) as he listened to the banging and rustling getting louder. And louder. And louder .
The trash shifted at once, falling away to make a general tunnel shape that was big enough for Goal to shimmy through.
“I heard you shouting, are you oka-?”
Similar to how her own space had been, there was a single shaft of sun from above, letting in just enough light to make out what was before her.
Almost every inch of Rufus she could see was smeared in red. It was dried and flaking off his face, weighing strands of his hair down, discolouring his clothes, and pooling from under him. It was a terrifying amount, yet he seemed unfazed, turning to her with owlish eyes, looking momentarily confused before realisation dawned.
“ Goal! Oh of course. I was with Goal. … Hi! Er, how are you?”
“How am-?! You-! Ah… R-rufus, can you... come over here?”
“Sure.”
She watched him shuffle forward on his knees, left arm dangling limply beside him, then he paused, before turning to the right to try grab something. Her stomach dropped at the sight.
At that angle, Goal could see a few spikes of scrap poking out of his shoulder, back and arm, along with massive gashes that had been torn in his sleeve. There was also a very wet and dark patch on his head which leaked fresh trails of blood down that side of his face.
He turned back to her, smiling now that he had a crowbar in hand. He covered the remaining distance, bumping knees with hers.
“What’s up?”
She took his immobile hand, giving it a testing squeeze. It twitched.
“We’re getting out of here, remember?”
“We are-? I mean, yes. That’s exactly what we were doing before… I was … here. W-where are we, exactly?”
She began to shuffle backwards through the tunnel, gently pulling his arm with her. He seemed to get the memo, and bent lower to shuffle with her, pulling himself forward, crowbar still tightly gripped. On the other side, the space was completely open, having survived the collapse with barely a speck of dust out of place. Once on her feet, she offered her other hand to help him stand as well ( He was still not letting that tool go ), and he got there with an amount of shaking.
“Oh, Goal. There, uh… there's blood on your glove. Did you hurt yourself? I knew you should have stayed put and let me do the heroics, now look at me, reputation in shambles.”
He tried to do some dramatic sweep with his arms, but he only succeeded in unbalancing himself and almost ending up back on the ground. Goal grabbed onto his uninjured arm to hold him in place.
“I think we’ve done enough exploring for now. How about we go see Doc?”
“Doc? Doc... Was he the one after my spleen?”
“… no?”
“Okay. Then let's go see Docy. Whooosh! Away!"
“Hmm.”
“Doc, don't give me that hmm.”
“Well it's just… hmmmm.”
Goal folded her arms, waiting for the man to gather his thoughts.
“It was a lot of blood.”
“Yes.”
“And I still can't quite figure out… where he was keeping it all.”
“In his body, next question- Will he be okay?”
He stroked his beard, then shrugged.
“Probably?”
“ Doc-”
“Dear, even with all my years, I have no idea what’s keeping that boy functioning. I think most of his weight probably comes from the amount of metal holding his insides together, and that metal plate in his head…”
Goal sighed, stepping closer to Rufus’ bedside. Cleaned of most of the blood, he looked perfectly fine, sleeping as normal bar the bandages around his head and arm. She brushed a hand along his cheek, and he leaned into the touch, smiling and softly mumbling.
“What am I going to do about you? You big dumb hero.”