Nightingale had blacked out for a few good minutes, leaving her motionless on the ground as the carnage exploded inside the room. She came around to a distinctly cooler room, filled with smoke, the flames dying out after being smothered by some sort of foam. Her vision still blurry, she attempted to sit up, peering groggily around the room. An unpleasant smell of burnt flesh hit her nostrils, and she caught sight of the char-grilled - yet somehow still breathing - body of Caro on the floor. God. Those were some nasty third degree burns. He'd be both lucky and unlucky to survive it.
"Jesus, fireguy," She muttered, coughing slightly. "What in the hell is wrong with you?" Speaking of which, where was he? She couldn't see or hear anything in the room, but for the hiss of the flames as they died down. And more bullet shots. Keeping low to the floor, she wondered which idiot had began shooting blindly into the room despite the fact Caro and herself were still in there - didn't they know bullets could ricochet?