Lena's POV
I caught him.
Not fully — he was too heavy, the fall too sudden — but enough that he didn't hit the floor the way he would have. My hands found his shoulders as he went down and I went with him, absorbing what I could, both of us on the floor of the panic room in the screen-light with Farrell's people coming through the door and everything happening at once.
"Damian," I said.
He didn't respond.
"Damian." My hand on his face. His jaw. Feeling for breathing, feeling for—
He was breathing.
Unconscious but breathing, the specific heavy quality of someone who had taken a significant blow to the head and gone somewhere their body needed to go.
"I need medical," I said to the officer in the doorway. My voice came out steady. I noted this distantly, the way you note things that
