At first he kept watching Kalyani because he'd wanted to see her. Now he kept his gaze fixed because he wasn't sure if he would survive whatever he might do if he looked at that fucking turian. He could barely hear the creature over his own heartbeat, hot and heavy in his ears, and it was for the best. Could someone die from hate? Just burn themselves out with it from the inside, spontaneous combustion?

Apparently not. He was certainly trying.

The shuffling of students making their awkward way out of the room filled the air as he tried to get his breath back, finally letting his eyes close and his shoulders shake. This wasn't his first injury and it wouldn't be his last--it wasn't anything medigel couldn't fix in an hour or two--but it [b]hurt[/b]. Insides were not meant to be jagged, and with every breath it felt like his expanding lungs rasped on something sharp and intrusive. Had he, a niggling little thought in the back of his head wormed its way in, hoped that she would kill him? That maybe this would be it?

That he couldn't immediately consider the notion ridiculous was not a good sign.

Still, he wasn't dead. He was still on Jump Zero, still in BaAt, still lying on the fucking matting like any other of the pathetic wastes that filled these halls. The ones that didn't have it, that would never be strong enough to fight back. That's what he wanted, after all, why he put himself through all this. If he was every going to be strong enough to beat those fucking turians, he needed this.

Caelnus would have killed him. Kalyani [i]could[/i] have, but didn't and she probably couldn't have taken the turian. So where the fuck did that leave him?

"Get up."

His words, this time, hissed through bloody teeth as he fought back that awful prickling in his eyes. Absolutely [i]not[/i]. He was [i][b]not[/b][/i] about to fucking cry. He was still alive, and he was [i][b]not[/b][/i] going to give that fucking hawk the satisfaction. One leg at a time he curled, planted, worked his forearms down to the mat. [i]Pushed.[/i]

Stood. 

His chest screamed. He couldn't breathe. It hurt, but he was a raw nerve, now--everything hurt. Already he could feel the pressure behind his eyes, that throb that meant he was in for the worst of it for the next few hours regardless of his chest--why hadn't they put some kind of dampener on these damn implants? Something that wouldn't let them push so hard? There had been days when Yoroi [i]felt[/i] the blood vessels burst, dripping down his nose. Once it had even come from his eyes, leaking like hot tears, unbidden. It was everything he could do to keep from screaming out of, what? Pain? Fury? Either?

But he looked Caelnus in the eye and spat out a 'Yes, Sir'. And he started towards the med bay.

He was burning and he knew it. The human body, the human brain couldn't stand that kind of emotion long term and he was already getting that awful hollow feeling in his chest, like space was just blowing through him. But Yoroi wasn't about to lose it in front of Caelnus, not after that, and so he put one foot in front of the other. Slowly, steadily, each step labor. More than anything he wanted to blow away, to catch that space wind and just dissolve into whatever cold emptiness was out there, spread so far apart as to be a statistical irrelevancy. He was passing Kalyani and something slipped out, dribbled past his lips like the blood he had to wipe off with the back of his wrist.

"We're gonna die here... aren't we?"

...where the fuck did that come from?

He would figure it out later. He would think later, process later, pick up the pieces later and move on, or whatever it was assholes like him did when shit like this happened to them. Right now, he needed the med bay. 

One foot in front of the other.