Vlad repositioned his grip again, fingers trembling now. Every nerve in his left arm was screaming at him to stop.
He didn't listen.
Vlad adjusted his grip again, eyes narrowed in pain, determination cutting sharper than the ache. He tensed—ready to try again.
But before he could move, Lana's hand stretched out and grabbed his wrist.
"Don't," she said, firm and low. "You've already failed twice. If you keep going, you'll make it worse."
Her voice wasn't angry. It was... scared? That's the best conclusion Vlad came to at that moment.
He didn't look at her at first. Just sat there, jaw tight, breathing shallow. The rain filled the silence between them, drumming steadily against the branches and leaves.
Then he glanced over, meeting her eyes.
"I'll be fine," he said. Quiet. Calm.
Lana didn't move. Her hand stayed on his wrist. Her eyes searched his, trying to find something solid behind those words.
She found—not something she could believe or disprove. There was something else there—something worn and stubborn. Not confidence. Just… desperation.
Lana slowly let go of his wrist.
She sat back, jaw clenched, not okay with it—but not fighting him either.
Vlad nodded once. Almost grateful. Almost apologetic.
He steadied his breathing, shoulders tense, fingers trembling slightly as they found their place along the swollen joint.
One beat.
Another.
And then he yanked.
A sharp, sickening crack filled the shelter, overpowering the sound of rain and the crackling fire.
Vlad's scream tore through the air, cutting through the rain like a blade. It wasn't controlled or muffled this time—it was raw, reflexive, ripped straight from the gut. He collapsed backward with a grunt, curling onto his side. His body writhed as he groaned through clenched teeth, rolling from one side to the other like he was trying to crawl away from the pain burning through his arm.
For a second he almost rolled into the fire.
The agony was a white-hot spike, impaling his forearm and radiating outward. It wasn't just a physical sensation; it was a screaming siren in his skull, blinding him to everything but the pain in his limb. Every nerve in his arm seemed to fire simultaneously, sending shockwaves of pure torment up to his shoulder and down to his fingertips.
He felt a sickening grind as the bone shifted, a soundless scream trapped in his throat, and the world narrowed to this single, all-consuming point of pure, unadulterated suffering. His breath hitched, shallow and useless as if his lungs had forgotten how to draw air, leaving him gasping against the overwhelming tide of anguish.
He could feel tears, hot and involuntary, blurring his vision from the sheer, overwhelming force of the pain itself.
Lana jolted toward him the moment he somewhat stabilized.
She didn't say anything at first—just knelt beside him as he writhed, his body curling and twisting like the pain had turned him inside out.
When his groans finally started to slow, she reached for him, her touch cautious but steady.
"What did I tell you?" she muttered, half frustrated, half worried. "Show me. Did you tear something?"
Vlad let out a low, breathless laugh that was more pain than humor.
"Feels like I tore everything."
Lana didn't speak.
She steadied him as he leaned against the wall made of bentree limb, his breath ragged, drops of tears running down his cheeks and his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might snap.
She stayed close, just in case he started to tip again.
"You done playing medic now?" she asked quietly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The worst had passed—or so it seemed.
Vlad lifted his left arm slightly. It moved better than before. No sharp jutting angle. No screaming nerves.
But then he tried to bend the elbow.
Fucking hell...
His breath hitched. Pain flared bright in his eyes.
"…It's not right," he muttered.
Lana looked at him, brows drawing together.
"What do you mean it's not right?"
Vlad didn't answer right away. He flexed his fingers again—slow, stiff, not quite aligned. Then he felt along the joint, pressing lightly until he winced.
"It's back… mostly," he said through gritted teeth. "It needs… another nudge."
Lana's expression twisted.
"You're not planning on doing that again… right?"
Vlad gave her a weary look and said:
"If I don't fix it now, it'll heal wrong."
Lana opened her mouth to argue, but the words died before they formed. She saw, in his eyes: the grim, stubborn logic of a man who understood his own body's limits and the brutal consequences of imperfection. There was no point in arguing with that kind of certainty. She just swallowed, her gaze falling to his trembling, half-relocated elbow.
"Did you... did you watch your sister do it carefully?" she asked, her voice softer than before, almost hesitant. "Like, really carefully?"
Vlad nodded, gritting his teeth as he carefully, tested the joint again and said:
"Yeap… this is how she did it. I think. Didn't hurt one ten-thousandth of this much when she did it, though."
His attempt at a forced smile was a thin, painful line.
Lana looked at him, her gaze intense, then back at his mangled elbow.
"Can... can I help?"
Vlad's head snapped up, a crooked smile, weary but genuine, spreading across his face.
"Yeah," he said, a faint chuckle escaping him. "I was just about to ask for help."
Lana inched closer.
"What should I do?"
"I don't know if this will work but I have a feeling it will."
She gave him a tired stare.
What the hell did I just say?
Utter nonsense.
"Alright…uhum—," He gestured with his good hand towards his injured arm. "—you'll hold on to the ring and middle fingers."
I hope she has a bad memory.
Lana tried to grab his fingers but Vlad quickly shifted his arm away.
"Give me a minute! I'm still hurting."
***
"Alright."
Lana looked at him and came closer.
"Ready?"
Vlad gave her a nod.
Lana held on to the two fingers as hard as she could with both her hands.
The foreign touch sent a jolt of pain throughout his arm making his brows twitch.
Ouch!
He looked at Lana who was already glancing at him nervously.
Cute.
Focus on our arm damn it!
Vlad held his left forearm, moving his finger for a few seconds trying to find the right spot. Then he looked up at Lana and said:
"On three you pull the fingers towards you as fast as you can alright?"
She nodded, her nervousness still visible on her face.
Vlad exhaled, the curled up corners of his mouth bent down.
God, I hope this works.
"Okay. One."
Two.
Three—
Lana pulled on his finger, almost bringing his whole body along with them. The fingers cracked as she pulled on them. At the same time, Vlad twisted his forearm inwards. Causing another louder cracking sound to fill the air. Lana let go of his fingers.
Again, like before, Vlad let out a sickening grunt. He fell to the floor and lay on his left side, his breath jagged and more tears escaping his eyes.
"God…"
Lana jumped over and rolled him over slightly. Slowly.
"What did I tell you?" She said, filled with anger and worry. "Why did even think this would—"
Vlad chuckled and then burst into laughter.
Lana stared in confusion for a second but before she could muster a word Vlad brought his left hand In front of her orange face and wiggled his fingers with a grin.
"It worked."