Page did. She wanted out of there.

Page could not really tell the extent of the damage on her now. Will began to move again, and she was then at the side of the door to open it.

"Want to give it a try?"

"Sure." She muttered and handed him the scissors brusquely. As she prepped to slam the door, she realized the scissors were still attached to her sleeve. She felt, though, Will pushing her.

"Alright, go!" He said.

The door was no longer blocked.

The door slammed open, and Page tumbled full **** out. People backed away immediately, and she fell into one of the heavy boxes full of confetti. Her head was surrounded by blackness and paper, and she felt her whole body toppling to the other side. She felt a pair of hands, Will likely, grab at her thighs to pull her back, but the grip was brisk and unplanned. Instead of grabbing actually her, all he got was a handful of already torn scraps of body suit.

She fell to the ground, confetti everywhere, hardly able to breath. She was mostly into the box, and took a moment to clear her face to breath. It was dark, but she could see some light at the far end of the box her legs stuck out. The legs were completely bare now - torn from Will's hands and all the damage that had happened before. She had no thong. Was that in Will's hands now? That would be the worst, but she had to figure what else was wrong.

Her left pant leg was now as short as short shorts. Her right hip was exposed almost up to her belly, and the flowing tatters underneath did little to hide her thighs. She was afraid that with too much strain, the left pant leg could break and expose everything below. That was, though, underneath the box.

For her top, the scissors had taken her sleeve. Even more, it had taken the area above her shoulder and collar, all the way to the strap of her other sleeve. Her chest was covered fine, though her collar was exposed down to the top of her breasts. Small scraps of loose spandex littered around herself and on her body she could not inventory.

Her lack of stable bottom was the biggest issue. She heard Will over all the rest of the alarmed Con goers.

"Are you alright?"

"N-no." Page replied, more shaky than she realized she was. Of course she was shaky. What was she to do?

Will's hand appeared at the end of the box. "Um. I got your, well." It held the broken thong.

Page only groaned. She was not sure what to say. She moved herself higher into the box and put her hands over her groin in case he decided to look.

"Ah! Good idea! Here!" Will suddenly began to right the box with Page in it. She squealed but stood. She could not see, but felt herself being pushed. "Let me lead you someplace safe."

She shimmied slowly under the box, feeling herself being led forward, then left and right here and there while many different feet shuffled around her. Some people were commenting, a box moving around trailing paper behind it with only a pair of calves and feet underneath moving around. Still, they moved, until she was on tile floor. She heard flushing.

A bit further, a stall door closed.

"You're in the big stall." He whispered. "These big Con bathrooms tend not to have very high or low panels between them so people could definitely see you over the door. I'll stand guard at the entrance and not let any other guys get in.

Ah, the boy's room, of course. The walls dividing each stall were usually a foot off the ground, and only about three or four feet tall in order for no transients to hide and sleep in them.

"I'm looking away. If you kneel down some no one could see you. Wait a little bit and I'll get everyone out."

She knelt down, slowly pushing the box up. She felt unsafe being unable to see.

Will was dutifully looking away, over the stall doors at everyone else. Someone commented how creepy it was, and Will explained he needed the bathroom cleared for a moment. People wanted to know why.

"An emergency, really."

"A really big shit, huh?" Someone laughed. Slowly, though, it was being cleared.

"Give it another minute and I'll stand at the door so you can do whatever. Sorry I only have scissors. My friend can meet us in a bit, though." He handed the scissors behind him. The scraps it was attached to were gone, though. In fact, where was the rest of her thong? Not that it would really work. The band was broken. "I dropped most the stuff as we were, well, escaping." He said. Page was not sure if he was telling the truth, but he did not really have any place to hold these things. Aside from a phone tucked into the fur of his kilt-thing, but didn't really have any place to hide stuff.

"Thanks." She said a little meekly. She stayed a bit behind him, not wanting her legs to be seen. The bathroom was cleared. "You've been helpful, really." She found herself saying. She was not sure if that was true, but then again, he did not try anything on her. He was just trying to be nice.

"Well, after you patch up a little, I'll see about my friend coming by with the sewing kit. Don't know how much it'll help, but still."

This WAS nice. Page sighed in relief. Hopefully it would calm down after this. He paused, as if about to ask something, still looking away, then began to move to the front of the bathroom to keep anyone from entering.

Page wanted to thank him again, something simple, but really couldn't think of much.