I remember being bound. There was a knife in the car and when she changed, she found it. And she cut. It hurt terribly. When she scratched me there was no pleasure in it, and little enough pain. I grimaced, but that was all. He took hold of me, sped adrenaline through my system, and saved me. He got the knife somehow, and cut the rest of my body free of the straps. The remaining three.
The fourth was her doing, taking my tendon with it. I offered my blessing to ah-SHEEL and jerked free.
I remember the car door opening, though whether it was me, him, or her, I do not know.
I know we were on the ground, and I got the knife away. He threw it into a tree, and we all three heard it slide into the wood. She wept for the blade, but fought on. One of us called 911, and all I know was that it wasn't her. Whoever it was shouted to the operator to tell the paramedics not to interfere, only to clean up afterward. I don't know if she did, but they didn't.
One of us disabled her. I don't know or remember how, or who, but he got a shirt knotted around my leg--my right leg--before the paramedics stepped in. They bound us both to the stretchers tightly and took us away.
I remember waking. He whispered soothing words in my head, and it took me a moment to remember why.
"Hush, Erv. You're going to be fine. Everything has been taken care of."
"What's going on?"
"You're in the hospital. You'll live."
"Why can't I move?"
"Nobody really knows what happened out there, besides the three of us. Maybe four. They bound you down. The same to her. You've also been heavily sedated." He paused, holding back, though knowing that I felt it. "I'm sorry, but they had to take it off."
"Take what off?"
"Your right leg. At the knee. I'm sorry. I know it was your favorite."
My body shook, and I realized I was sobbing. I struggled to open my eyes, but they were terribly heavy.
"Are you sure you want to do that? I know you can take it, and I'll always be right here for you. I'm not going anywhere."
The weight on my eyelids disappeared, and I lifted them. White pristene walls surrounded me, and a nurse bustled in, smiling down on me.
"You're not supposed to be waking yet, but I suppose that's alright. We've done what we could."
(He whispered in my mind: "I helped with that. They medicated for one, not two."
I only smiled inwardly, and he chuckled.)
"I know. Thank you."
She nodded, still smiling. "Anything I can do for you?"
"Can you help me sit up?"
"Are you sure? You're body's been through a lot."
"Yes, I can take it. Please."
She nodded again. "Alright," and helped me up, then left, patting the television remote onto the bed beside my hand.
"Are you still there, Psycho?"
"I am. I told you I'm not going anywhere. But please don't call me that. It's alright from before, when I had no name, but you called me that night, and I shall never forget it."
I started to ask, but that part came back to me. "ah-SHEEL. Achilles."
"Good boy. Knew you could do it. We'll hold back on the rest of the remembering for now, but when you're ready, I promise I'll tell you everything."