Her knees and chest roar at her as she drops down onto the grating of the catwalk, not a throb, not an ache, a roar of pain. She feels dizzy for a moment, and has to put out a hand to the supports to steady herself.
The pain recedes, but not as fast as she'd like. It lingers, reluctant to leave.
She shoves it away, she doesn't have time to hurt right now, and reaches out for the box.
She's got this.
You've got this part down. You can do it without thinking.
It's going to be fine.