AN/ This is what I get for listening to club music as I write stuff. Anyway here you go. I warn you, this is rated as high as it is for blood, language, alcohol, mentions of drug use, and some sexual situations. It sounds really spooky, but really it's not that bad. Just feel like I should give you a heads up so you won't be TOO surprised.

I OWN NO ONE AND NOTHING.

BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP

Gods.. must have forgot to unplug and throw out that damned satanic alarm clock.

BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP

Maybe if I don't move it will go away... oh man my head is throbbing..

BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP-

"Bloody hell, enough already!" Lashing a hand out to swat at the offending noise only for my knuckles to connect with something cold and hard. This didn't quiet the horrendous beeping noise either but it did further confuse me "wh.. what?"

It was my watch chirping that ear-splitting squawk for some reason... I never set alarms on my watch, fact I wasn't even sure how to set an alarm in the first place. Eventually it did shut up though and only after it did, did I squint at my surroundings, examining the blurry, dull, cramped room.

Too bright. The light anchored to the ceiling was producing an obnoxious buzzing noise and everything smelled like cleaning products, vomit, toilet water, and blood. Is this a bathroom?

Oh yeah...

I was invited to a party last night. Not just any party though, the biggest frat party the local collage had ever seen. This party that lasted an entire week and I only attended the very last day of because my friend threatened to make dinner if I didn't go.

That thought alone made me dry-heave into the toilet I woken up against.

I wasn't alone in this room though, through the sound of the light buzzing and the low base of whatever music was still playing elsewhere, little snores could be heard.

Across from me was a girl. A very attractive girl whom reeked of weed. She was passed out leaning shirtless against the wall, rocking that comfortable looking black bra, batman boxers noticeable from the under the undone button and fly of her camouflage cargo pants. Blonde hair mused, one arm draped into the bathtub. All along her neck, down her full chest, over her ribs and cascading down her hips were smudges of blue lipstick and dark hickeys. Marks where fingernails had cut into her skin decorated her shoulders and sides.

Holly fuck. She had a good night.

I tried to pull myself up, having fallen asleep in the sitting position hugging a toilet for who knows how many hours really did a number on my legs. It took me two tries, but I managed to half drag myself to the sink. Grateful for those years spent on the swim team, I had some great arms.

I managed to turn on the tap and run my hands under the cold water as I waited for the feeling to come back to my legs. When I looked up into the mirror I had to blink and stare for several seconds. Was that really me? I had thick layers of a sweet smelling navy colored beauty product smeared all over my face and my eyeliner was smudged beyond recognition. I looked like a starved raccoon that had made a feast out of some punk kid's makeup...

...Wait a second..

My eyes drifted back to the room's OTHER occupant before my suspicions were confirmed. Blue Lipstick.

"My stars.. the actual fuck did you do last night Lazuli?" A groan escaped my lips before I started to vigorously scrub my face free of the sticky product in an attempt to make myself less of an eyesore and remove any evidence of what I probably did in this room with a complete stranger. When I deemed myself clean and free of makeup, I cupped my hands under the chilled stream of water and drank a few handfuls before I turned back to the other girl as I leaned on the sink, wondering what to do now.

Okay. So in reality I was just admiring her some more. She's hot, get off my back. You'd do the same.

Something felt off though, I could just open the bathroom door and leave the girl to sleep, but something kept me here... I bet it had something to do with the smell of coagulating blood that was actually quite strong and hung thickly in the air. Did I notice this smell earlier? I'm an EMT, I should have responded sooner.

Kneeling beside her, I let my cobalt eyes scan over her quickly, looking for dark spots on the knees of her trousers that would indicate that she had probably fallen and messed up her knees. Legs and feet seem fine, though she is missing one combat boot. No marks in her hairline and none of the little cuts on her shoulders or sides look deep enough to raise alarm. So the last thing to check was that arm.

The left arm to be exact. The arm that was draped into the bathtub seemed to be the source of the odor, It looked as if she'd wrapped her shirt around her arm and hand then secured it with a black shoelace. That explains the missing boot. Blood soaked the white shirt and dripped down into the tub, having made a steady vibrant red trickle into the drain.

Maybe I did try to help her, but we were both too drunk and too high to do much.

"Hey, c'mon.. I need you to wake up," I nudged her shoulder a little, she didn't budge "YEO. Don't make me slap you."

"Huh wha..?" she looked up at me with sleepy green eyes and a tired expression, her voice sounded really rough, probably from excessive bong rips and or shouting over the music "did I win?"

"Win what, the Moron Award for the Twat Olympics? C'mon, can you stand?"

"Uh.. sure" I helped her to her feet, she stumbled a bit as the color drained from her face and shoulders. I needed to get this girl some fluid or she was going to pass out. Closing the toilet lid with my foot before sitting her down on it, I stooped, taking up the red solo-cup I assumed was mine from the floor. It smelled like alcohol but it would do for now.

Filling the glass and handing it to her, she took it in her right hand and drank it slowly, leaning back on the toilet. I used this opportunity to dig through the medicine box.

Not a lot useful in here, looks like it's already been picked clean.. some dental floss, cotton balls, and some rubbing alcohol. Looks like we'll make due.

"How are you feeling?"

"I can feel the earth spinning.."

"Great, your still high."

"Yeo, wazup with my hand?"

"Were about to find out.."

I gently took the now empty cup from the woman and set it on the counter, coming to my knees in front of her. The knots in the shoelace were very sloppy, but tight. No match for my quickly sobering fingers. Soon the lacing came free and I gently unfolded the bloody shirt from the girl's arm. It was a bit of an effort seeing as the blood had dried and made the fabric very stiff, eventually though, it came off.

She was missing her little and ring finger at the base where her fingers met hand, half of her middle finger at the first joint, and a great majority of the meat of her hand had been cleaved away.

"Holy fuck man.." Her lips here starting to turn purple as her eyes grew. I needed to disinfect the appendage and wrap it in a clean dressing, then get her to the hospital as soon as possible "Dude, should be feeling that..? Why don't I feel anything?"

"You're stoned out of your skull, It's a wonder you can even feel your face enough to form coherent words-"

"-Oh no, Is my face all jacked-up too?"

"No. Your face is fine, now hold your hand over the tub. This is going to burn like a bitch."

And I can tell she felt THAT. The hiss and bubbling sounds coming from the wound making the blonde squirm and bite down on her right hand so she wouldn't scream. I didn't stop pouring the solution on her hand until it ran clear over the deep lacerations and down the drain. We flushed her hand in the sink with cold water before wrapping it in a clean cloth and securing it with the floss I found.

"I'm going to call a taxi and get you to the hospital-"

"What about an ambulance?"

"I'm an EMT sweetheart, as a person whom works in an ambulance for a living, trust me when I say a taxi will get here faster."

"Wait, YOU'RE an EMT?" The awe in her voice was almost adorable, I helped her up and out the bathroom door. Stepping over various partied-out deadbeats that littered the hall as we made our way to the massive living room. A large woman lay sprawled out on the couch with a swollen and bloody nose, but she seemed to be sleeping like a baby. Literally no one seemed to be awake as there were people hap-haphazardly sleeping on furniture and over one another like dirty laundry thrown about a person's bedroom after a long day at the office, phallic shapes drawn onto many faces in black marker.

A room full of wankers.

"Are you okay to stand alone? I think that's my phone plugged into the stereo." She nodded and I let her go in favor of retrieving my phone from across a sea of bloated and burping bodies.

The girl had turned her attention to the kitchen, and of course, she probably had some killer munchies. I watched her disappear through the frame. Hopping, skipping and jumping my way to some clear floor space, I started typing in the number for the best cab driver I knew..

And then I heard her wretch.

Within the second I was in the doorway, my jaw hung open as I gazed out at this war-zone that had been laid out before me. It looked like an ax murder had taken place here. Dark crimson spattered the walls, was all over the floor, dripped off the counter-top, and caked the ceiling. The blonde was hunched over the sink, shoulders shaking as she spit chunks into the drain. A pained sob tore through her throat that made my insides run cold.

I tiptoed through the muck and came to stand beside her, gently placing my hand onto her back between her shoulder-blades to rub slow circles onto her clammy skin. She lifted her quaking bandaged hand and motioned in the direction of an especially grotesque blender.

"F- Fi- nnnn.." Her body convulsed again, hunching into the sink, but nothing came up. My eyes went from the household appliance to her hand before she wiped the side of her mouth with her good hand and met my eyes "Fuckin fingernails man! There are fucking fingernails in there!"

What the actual?!

"How the hell does someone get THAT high?!" Maybe she and some other hungry idiots tried to make a dorito and pizza milkshake, but what compels a person to do something like put their hand in a blender? A BLENDER. Maybe a toaster, but seriously!

"I- I dunno! I don't remember anything except coming here, playing DDR, and waking up in the bathroom.."

"Fucking hell.. Go sit in the living room, I'm calling a cab." I didn't let her out of my sight this time, I followed her and watched her sit down beside the coffee table as I made small-talk with the taxi guy. Two things I gained from this adventure was a splitting headache and the self-assurance that I was about 300% done with frat parties.

And I was right. That driver had been driving drunk kids too and from this party all night, so it only took him a minute to pull up. Grabbing a coat off the hook by the door and not really caring who's coat it was, I slipped it around the girls shoulders and helped her out to the taxi. The driver gave us a look as I crawled in the back with her and closed the door behind us. He must have seen how pale she looked and the expression in my eyes as he was already driving before I had even opened my mouth.

I payed the man with whatever money I had stuffed into my bra before helping Blondie through the doors of the hospital's Emergency Room Entrance.

About 40 stitches later and an hour on an IV drip and she was fine, I helped myself to the free coffee and a deli sandwich that was provided in the hospital's lunchroom, adequately sobering me up and helping chase away that migraine. A few of the nurses joked with me about being here on my off day, but they didn't question. I clearly can't get a break.

"Ya didn't have to help me, you know."

"What was I supposed to do? Let you lay there and bleed to death in your sleep?"

"W- Well no... someone else would have eventually found me though."

"Eventually would have been too late." She looked down at her damaged hand, the thick bandaging doing little to conceal how disfigured the limb had become. The doctors saved everything they could, but they can't do anything about the lost fingers.

"Peridot."

"What?"

"My name. My name is Peridot."

"Lapis Lazuli."

A comfortable silence is shared between us. I myself am not quite sure why I'm still here, I did my part. Got this girl some help and now she's well down the road of recovery.. Who was kidding, I knew why I was here.

"Hey uh... Wanna hit up the pancake house tonight?" I was here for her.

"Breakfast for dinner, eh?" I couldn't help the grin that pulled up the corner of my lips as I looked to the other woman. Pancakes sounded wonderful actually.

"Yeah, I mean, you saved my life. The least I can do is buy you dinner."

"Six sound good to you?"

"Six sounds like a date to me."

"Alright, see you there then." I tossed my empty coffee cup into the basket beside the hospital bed and made for the door, a warm feeling for the first time sense I woke up hugging the bowl of a toilet growing in my chest.

"Lapis?" Stopping in my tracks, I turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

"Peridot?"

"You.. missed a spot." She motioned under her jaw with a finger, insinuating I do the same. I dumbly mimicked her, swiping my fingertips under my chin. My heart skipped a beat and jumped into my throat as I felt something sticky. Drawing my hand back quickly, my gaze landed on a familiar colored pigment that shared the same color as my eyes, my face suddenly erupting into a dark shade of pink.

Fucking Blue Lipstick.

END.

AN/ SEE. It wasn't THAT bad. People just made some poor life decisions and are already learning to cope with it. I don't fully know why, but I kinda really enjoy Lapis being a grumpy hard-ass sometimes, ya know? Like Peridot is always the grump and Lapis is an ornery little ditz. ANYWAY, lemme know how you liked it and if you read any errors-

And as always, have a good night/day. Treat yourself and a friend to a big oll pile of cookies! And stay safe!