"Desk!" Came the somewhat distant voice. She'd been saving most of her will for when someone was coming - and Sturgis had said he was coming - so she attempted to push herself up from the rubble underneath the desk. It was harder than you'd think with only your non-casting hand (Merlin's fuck it was hard to cast a successful patronus that could travel at all), honestly.
She furrowed her brows and coughed to clear her lungs, glad that she'd had to speak through clouds of smoke and brimstone before, "UNDER THE DESK!" Marissa pointedly avoided looking down at her hand and tried to focus on staying awake.
She wasn't sure how much blood she'd lost - she'd pulled off her blouse to wrap her bloody stump in and that at least had kept her from passing out. Passing out before help would be bad, right?
Hopefully Sturgis would find her soon, because she wasn't in the mood for testing whether it really would be a bad thing or not.
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