Wounded - Tumblr Posts
Russian stretcher bearers (WW1)
Wounded elf and his horse ( three versions of this work appeared in 2009 and 2010)
inktober day 2 prompt: wounded
Wrong carrot data
Proxy do something ffs ----------------------------------------------------------------- If you like my drawings, check out my NSFW Patreon! There are exclusive NSFW pictures that arent avaible anywhere else! https://www.patreon.com/bristol
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Just getting a good wash in after that little work-out. Hopefully the little one is doing the same (though she does have less to clean).
An open wound with no healing and a disease with no cure.That's what loving someone that you don't talk anymore feels like.The memories fade,the pictures desolve and you keep living.Holding on to something potentially dead. - Melita
when you find out the girl you’ve been dating for a year hasn’t seen high school musical & YOU FEEL SLIGHTED !
Mercy
Pin-up for Rachel Deering's upcoming issue of Anathema (4), which will be available on Comixology
Elizabeth B.
“We absolutely should not be doing this,” the hero whispered, but there wasn’t any heat to it. The other end of the line rustled as the villain laughed.
“There are a lot of things we shouldn’t be doing. Namely, I shouldn’t commit felonies, you shouldn’t talk to a felon…” their friend trailed off.
This time, the hero was the one who laughed. Outside, a bird began to chirp with the sunrise, and the villain sighed.
“Time distance.”
“Time distance,” the hero agreed, and by god if the miles weren’t a wound in itself.
“You should sleep,” the villain murmured. The hero hummed.
“Probably, yeah.”
Neither of them hung up.
“If I promise to call tomorrow, will you go to bed, please? For me?”
The hero sniffed, eyes heavy as the sun peeked through their blinds.
“Promise?”
“Pinkie.”
The hero slumped backwards. “I won’t hang up though.”
The villain laughed, softly, with an affection the hero didn’t want to think about.
“I’ll do the heavy lifting, once again,” but the hero knew they smiled as they said. The line clicked off.
—————————
“Hey, Sunshine. Committing nefarious acts of kindness and good deeds, I take it?”
“Hey,” the hero was breathless, hand pressed against their side. It came back bloody.
Any humor dropped from the villain’s voice in an instant.
“You’re hurt.”
The hero managed a pathetic laugh, flinching.
“Just a little.”
“It doesn’t sound like a little.”
The hero eyed their wound, swallowing.
“Absolutely just a little.”
“It’s a good thing you’re the kid of a hero, because love, you absolutely suck at lying.”
The hero tried to pretend something didn’t warm in their stomach at the endearment.
“I have…bandages. And antiseptic. And some good old natural dirt to rub into it if all else fails.”
The villain sighed on the other end of the line, and the hero knew they were rubbing their brow. For some reason, despite the pain, it made the hero grin.
“I’m fine,” they promised, and when the villain stayed silent, they said it again. “I’m fine.”
“If you die I’ll be mad at you.”
“Fairly certain that is the wrong sentiment for a villain to have towards a hero—“
“Has the bleeding stopped?”
The hero slapped some tape around the edge of the gauze, blood still dried around the edges.
“Yes.”
The relief was palpable.
“Good. Go to bed.”
“You’ll call again?”
“Promise.”
The hero smiled.
“Pinkie.”
The villain hung up.
—————————
“You wouldn’t happen to have a flamethrower I could borrow, do you?”
The hero blinked, holding the phone away from their face for a moment.
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh, don’t be, I just need one,” the villain snorted, and a loud crash sounded in the background.
“What on earth are you doing?” Concern rolled in the hero’s gut. The villain laughed.
“You’re going to want plausible deniability sunshine.”
“Right,” they paused. “But why a flamethrower?”
“It has flames, it throws them, what else could I ask for in an object?”
“I can throw flames.” Even though the villain couldn’t see it, the hero let a spark flicker on their finger tips.
“And again,” the villain’s voice lowered. “What more could I ask for?”
The hero didn’t have a response to that, but the villain somehow, like they always did, knew that.
“Any bruises I should know about?”
“And what would you do about them? You live on the other side of the country,” the hero teased.
“I can steal a fighter jet in less than half an hour.”
The hero blinked at the seriousness in the villain’s tone. They laughed, nervously.
“Please don’t do that.”
The villain sighed. “You ruin my fun.”
“I haven’t arrested you, so I think that should get me brownie points.”
“You live on the other side of the country,” the villain parroted.
“I could get there faster than a fighter jet,” the hero said. The villain snorted again.
“Will you—“
“Call again? Pinkie.”
The hero smiled. “Promise.”
The villain hung up.
—————————
The hero picked up the phone on the third ring, smiling.
“Hey trouble maker, what’s—”
All they got in response was a pained wheeze.
“Villain,” the hero said, gut plummeting. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” the villain bit out, breath short. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
The villain gave something that was either a laugh or a sob.
“Mhm.”
“What’s going on,” their voice broke, and the villain fell silent.
“It’s going to be okay,” they murmured. And the hero knew.
Innately, in a painful, wretched way, they knew.
“My dad is there.”
Their dad, the superhero. Their dad, who had forbidden them from ever speaking.
Their dad, who wanted the villain, their villain, dead.
The villain made a quiet noise of ascent.
“I’m coming—”
“You won’t make it.”
The hero stilled.
“How bad is it?” Their hands were shaking. They couldn’t find their suit, why couldn’t they find their suit—
“Too fast for a fighter jet,” the villain tried, voice too light and wet with tears.
The hero slammed a drawer closer, throwing open the door to the basement, searching for something, anything.
“I can be faster,” they grit out, breathless. Their chest hurt.
“Not that fast.”
“Please,” the hero sobbed, and on the other end of the line, the villain did too.
“Don’t do this to me.”
“I don’t want to,” the villain swore. They coughed, and it was a deathly thing.
Something slammed in the background on the end of the line, and the hero’s fingers clenched around the phone.
“What was that?”
The villain let out a pained whine, phone crackling as they shifted away, before their voice came over the speaker again.
“I’ll call again tomorrow.”
The hero’s face was wet.
“Promise?”
The villain let out a small sob, but they still sounded like they were smiling, soft with affection.
“Pinkie.”
The hero didn’t mean to say what came next.
“I love you.”
The villain didn’t even pause, breath hitching. “I love you too.”
The line crackled.
“Sunshine, I need you to do something for me now,” the villain rasped, voice choked with pain and tears and love and fear. “I need you to hang up.”
The hero forgot how to breathe.
“No—”
“Please,” the villain took a sharp breath through their nose, and it sounded painful. “Just this once. I can’t do it this time.”
“Villain,” the hero began, but the villain cut them off as something crashed in the background once more.
It sounded like a building falling.
It sounded like the hero breaking, too.
“Sunshine,” the villain pleaded. “Just once. I’ll-I’ll call you back. I swear.”
They could both taste the lie.
The hero sniffed.
The villain sobbed.
And for the first time, the hero hung up.
The villain never called them back.
Bleeding Out - Adam Stanheight / Reader
A/N sorry for the long delay, also my non creative title creating. Anyway, this is inspired by Imagine Dragon's Bleeding Out. It's a loooot longer than usual, but please enjoy!
.
The news had been informed to you as soon as you got home from work that day. It was all too earth shattering. Like someone was covering your eyes with a painted blindfold, so as to hide the truth from you. It made the air cold and stale, made your skin crawl, made your head reel. You stared at the detective, your mouth so dry it might as well have been its own desert. Your heart felt weak, and you glanced up at and down your room. It was so cold. Tears filled your eyes and you shook your head, begging yourself to have the strength to move. It was all so unreal. You hoped you would wake up soon.
The firm, calloused, hand put itself on your shoulder. The grip was tight, and pushed on your tense muscles. It was trying to soothe you, but failing utterly. The blue eyes were grave, and sad. They gathered all your information from one single glance. The voice that spoke was fragile; low but sensitive, reassuring and empathetic, apologetic, reluctant.
The detective told you it was okay. He asked if you had anywhere to go. He wanted to know if you wanted to stay there. He was wondering about your last interaction. He was fearful for you. He wanted you safe. So did the other officers. You couldn’t even speak. You just wanted to be there. You had to see it for yourself. It seemed way too impossible.
“It’s going to be okay.” The officer’s deep voice spoke to you soothingly. “I need you to come with me, Ma’am/Sir.”
You looked into his eyes. “NO! I need to see him! I need to see if it’s true, please take me to him. I love him, I love him! He’s my boyfriend, you don’t understand!” You were hysterical. Tears stained your white face. Your heart lurched painfully with every heartbeat. “Please,” you begged.
The officer nodded sadly. “Okay. We can figure something out. Just come with me. Do you have anyone to stay with?”
You shook your head. “N-No. Just him.”
“Okay. Do you want us to bring you back here?”
“Just tell me what happened again, officer. Is… Is A-Adam still alive?”
“As far as we know. The report came in just a few minutes ago. A friend of yours told someone to come get you.”
Your mouth flapped open and closed uselessly for several seconds. “Is he okay?”
The policeman shook his head helplessly. “We only know that Adam was kidnapped three hours ago. He’s being held in an underground basement in New Jersey.
You stared at him in disbelief, the gears in your mind turning slowly, excruciatingly. You stammered short breaths. “I-I-I don’t understand. What did he do? Why did they take him?”
You were pulled out of the apartment by the man. “We have people working on finding him. Would you like to go with us?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed. “Yes! I need to see him again!”
“Okay. Get in the car. You’re going to be fine, Y/N.”
You slunk into the police car, feeling scared. Your breath was coming fast, but you were trying to remain calm. You had been asleep twenty minutes ago, so your mind was still a bit foggy. As of right now, you seemed to be wide awake. All you could think about was your boyfriend.
The car ride was silent and unbearable. You shuffled your feet back and forth on the floor, feeling miserable. The policeman pulled into the station. “We’ve just got news on his location,” he commented. We want you to stay here, while a team goes to get him.”
You launched yourself out the door, and grabbed his shoulders. “You have to let me go with you!” You shouted. You shook him back and forth lightly. “You can’t keep me from him, I have to see him, I need to see him, I can’t leave him all alone, he needs me. Don’t you understand, of course you don’t, you’ve never been in love, have you, I have to go with you! I have to!” Your words were rushed and panicked. You weren’t even making complete sentences.
“I can’t, Ma’am/Sir. I can’t put a citizen like you in that kind of danger. It goes against my entire job.”
You latched your arms around his neck and hung there, your knees weak and your face pressing into his shirt, allowing tears to soak it. You sobbed loudly. The officer held you up kindly, and let you cry on his shoulder. He had dealt with these kinds of crimes before. This was practically NORMAL for him. He guided you inside, and dropped you onto a blue-cushioned chair. You were in a waiting room, surrounded by other people, but you were the only one crying, and you were the only one being loud enough to interrupt.
“I’m going to be inside that room.” The officer pointed to a doorway on the right. “You are with people who want to help you. If you need anything, you’re welcome inside. I’ll try my best to help you. Our lovely receptionist over here, Lindsy…” he pointed to a young woman behind a counter. “...can help you with anything, okay? She’s a very nice lady.”
You stared at the man and the woman in awe, your body numb. You’d only met this person right now, but somehow your mind had latched on to him. You didn’t want him to leave you! “No!” You whined. “Don’t go!”
The officer laughed. “I’ve gotta find your baby, okay? So that way you can see him again. I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you let me do my job.”
You stared in horror at the man as he slid into his office. Your chest felt tight, your eyes felt hot, and they stung whenever you blinked. Your head hurt.
“Mister Bale!” The receptionist called after him. “Do you want it written or printed?”
The officer poked his head out again. “Printed will be just fine, Ms. Sower. Thank you.”
You were left to yourself for the remaining time. Speaking of time, time was a precious thing, for there was so much of it, much more of it than there was money on the planet - nevertheless, to you, there seemed to be too much of it. Why was everybody still here? Didn’t they know that your boyfriend was in unsafe conditions? What were they doing? Why weren’t they doing anything? You started to panic. “Lady,” you sobbed. You collapsed onto the counter, behind which the receptionist was looking at you. “Please, you have to save him! Why’s no one helping him?”
Lindsy stretched her arm out across the counter to comfort you. “The police are working on it. Mr. Bale is leading the investigation in fact.” Her voice was calm.
Your knees gave way beneath you, and you fell to the floor. Lindsy came out from behind the desk, she lunged for you. Lindsy caught you in her strong arms. Vision blurred, you put your head on her shoulder, crying and screaming. Lindsy simply combed her fingers through your hair carefully, murmuring and whispering to you in an attempt to make you feel better. “Madam / Sir, I want you to breathe. Your boyfriend is going to be found, I promise.” You wailed even louder.
Mr. Bale came back out of his office, his steps firm, but light. He swept into the waiting room, and pointed at Lindsy, not even seeing you there. Everything was blurring together. All of the officer’s movements and words seemed slow and laggy. “Get… Merrit… and… Kingsly…” He nodded. “I’m… ready… to… leave…”
Lindsy smoothed your hair out and then stood up and went to retrieve the other policemen. You gazed up at Mr. Bale. “Are you going to get Adam?”
Things started to come back into real time again. Mr. Bale knelt down. “Yes-”
“-I want to go with you!” You yelled.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I don’t want to endanger you.”
You grabbed his waist. “PLEASE!” You were so hysterical that you couldn’t even remember your manners, not even social norms. All you wanted was to see Adam Stanheight again.
The officer grit his teeth, and sighed. “No.” He kicked you off of him, and you fell onto the floor. At any other time you would have considered yourself deserving of that treatment; if someone had been pleading on your legs like a crybaby, while you tried to save people’s lives, you would’ve gotten annoyed as well. You had barely even skimmed the floor, but it felt like you’d been crushed. You didn’t think Mr. Bale was very nice for kicking you.
As you got to your feet, two men walked up to Mr. Bale. They started talking hurriedly, all at once, and headed for the police car waiting outside. Lindsy still wasn’t back yet, and an idea was forming already in your mind. You strode confidently to the reception desk, and disappeared behind it.
There was a green,tiny, basket by the computer. There were many car keys inside it already. From the left, you could hear Lindsy’s voice around the corner. “I know, Sir. I think they must have found Bale first.”
In an instant, before you could even have time to think, your hand launched out and dove into the basket. The metal cut into your skin and you recoiled, pulling with you a car key of your own. Lindsy opened the door, just as you closed your hands around the keys. Your fearful eyes looked up into the receptionist’s, your face white, your heart thudding into your rib cage.
Lindsy was surprised to see you standing in her office. “Y/N…” She said sternly. “What are you doing? Can I help you?”
Lower lip trembling from anxiety, you shook your head timidly. You kept your eyes on anything except for hers. The wall, the ceiling, the desk, the bottom of her dress, the tips of your shoes. Lindsy grabbed you, hard, by the forearm and tugged you out from behind her desk. “If you need anything, Y/N, you can ask me from that side.” Her tone was strict.
You shifted back toward the blue chairs, keeping your head down. From inside, you could hear the car engine start up, and you knew you had to get out of there. You leapt from your chair in a hurry, and catapulted out the sliding doors. Lindsy, who had barely had the chance to sit down, called out to you in alarm. She went racing after you.
You hurtled into the nearest cop car, your whole entire body rigid with fear and adrenaline. Lindsy was coming around the brightly lit corner in front of you, while Mr. Bale and his partners headed for the exit. You scrambled for the seatbelt.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Lindsy was shouting. “Come back! What are you doing?” She spotted you in the car. You locked eyes with each other. You backed out of the parking space, nearly hitting the car behind you. Ms. Sower flinched. “Ma’am/Sir I need you to step out of the car.”
You ignored the authority. In fact, you couldn’t have cared less about her direct order, if you had tried. You made a beeline for the exit, leaving Lindsy gawking after you in complete confusion. In the rearview, the receptionist made a phone call, as you sped off down the road, rapidly catching up to the nice policemen.
Finally, you thought. I’m coming for you, Adam! I promise!
The ride seemed to take an entire season! Every stop sign, and red light took up more time than you would have wanted. Each second waiting was another wasted moment. As soon as you could move again, you always slammed the gas harder than the last time. You kept yourself several cars behind Mr. Bale, just so that you didn’t get caught stalking him.
When you pulled into a dark, gloomy, parking lot, you could hear the policemen talking amongst themselves. One of them said, “Peter, Lindsy left a voicemail?”
You halted the car near the street, so that way the officers wouldn’t run into it, if they tried to back out. It was too dark to see where it was anyway.
Mr. Bale looked at him. “What was she saying?”
You unclicked your seatbelt, and held your breath, fear rising inside you.
“The man/woman you brought in earlier stole one of the cop cars. They’ve been following us.”
Mr. Bale sighed. “I’ve seen a lot of shit, but I’ve never had one of my rescuees steal a police car from me. This one certainly has obstinance.”
“Should we go in, then? Or should we go back, to make sure he’s/she’s safe?”
You were outraged that the officer would even think that! They’d traveled all this way here, just to go back!? NO! You wouldn’t allow that! You flung yourself out of the car, yelling. “You won’t leave my boyfriend in there!” You ran up to each of them. “I need you to save him, I love him! Don’t you fucking leave him in there, or else what good are you? You save people, am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong!”
Mr. Bale shook his head. “No, Ma’am/Sir. But seeing as you’re already here with us, you might as well come along.” He planted his finger firmly on your sternum. “Stay. Close. I’m not about to lose two.”
You shrank back, nodding profusely. “Yes, Sir. Just let me see Adam!”
The officers walked ahead, keeping you in the back for protection. You followed hesitantly. You knew you shouldn’t be here, you knew you shouldn’t have stolen that car… or those keys… but you had been in such distress! Maybe now you had a guilty conscience, but all the same, you didn’t regret what you had done.
In front of you was an abandoned building. It looked like it had been a warehouse of some kind, a long time back. Boxes were littered all around the place, but mostly it was open, empty, space. At the far end of the room was a large, double door. It led to an elevator that traveled so far underground it took five whole minutes to reach the bottom. Your stomach flipped repeatedly as you let the elevator take you down. The stairs were blocked off by large, crooked, boxes.
You found yourselves on the lowest level, a basement. White tile made up the floor and walls. Everything was white, and it hurt your eyes. The lights were blasting from above, reflecting off the tiles. You squinted. The three men took up positions in front of you, staying in formal order. Obviously, they knew what they were doing. You stumbled along blindly, keeping your head down, until you rounded a corner. And that was when you heard muffled screaming and shouting.
Adam’s voice was the one you heard first, shrieking and squealing and sobbing; panicking. Your heartbeat started up again, and you charged into the policemen, struggling, forcing your way through them.
The men pressed closer together. “Y/N!” Mr. Bale exclaimed, grabbing your arms. “Stop! You need to stay back. Let us scout the area first.”
You launched yourself from right to left with all your strength, twisting your arms wretchedly, throwing your shoulders all around. Bale had you in a tight grip. So tight, that you couldn’t even release yourself from his hands. “Stop it!” You screamed, lashing out with your feet, trying to kick him away from you.
Your feet collided into Bale’s knees. The officer stumbled, a small, amused, smile on his face. He rolled his eyes. “You really don’t like letting me do my job, do you?”
You threw yourself back, shifting all your weight onto him. The two of you fell on the floor, causing Mr. Bale to let go of you.
In a flurry of hands and feet - fast as light speed - you jumped into the air and took off down the pristine hallway.
You crashed into the metal door, and smashed your fists against it. You screamed for Adam until your voice was sore and raw.
“Chill out, Y/N. We’re gonna help him out,” one of the officers told you calmly.
You sank down to your knees and started bawling.
“It’s locked.”
“Did you DO your research, Harver?” Mr. Bale asked sarcastically, scanning the top of the door. “John Kramer, creator of the most recent traps in New Jersey. Kidnapper and murderer.” He began struggling with a notch on the door. It was a little slab that stuck out of the middle of the door. It looked like it could slide up and down, but it hadn’t been used in a really long time. It was rusted in place, perhaps. “There has to be a way inside from out here.”
Harver, the officer on the right, scoffed. “Did you do YOURS, Sir? Kramer wouldn’t MAKE a way inside at all.”
The notch shot up along the door at that moment. It made a horrific screech and then a lock snapped open somewhere to the right. Mr. Bale threw Harver a smug look. “Gardener,” he addressed the second officer with him. “Stay with Y/N.”
The officer on the left sat down, cross legged, behind you and patted your shoulder reassuringly. “You hear that?” He asked amiably. “You get to wait with lil’ ol’ me.” He grinned at you. You didn’t look at him, just pressed yourself further against the wall, and listened quietly as the two other officers pushed open the door and went inside.
The yelling inside instantly got louder. You could hear Adam’s voice clearly now, as well as the other man’s. They were arguing about something, each of them sounded desperate and urgent.
“The police!?” Adam’s voice cracked. “Look, Lawrence, the police! It’s the police, don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me! Please, please. Oh my god!” There was a loud bang from inside the room, and you lost your self-control. Blinded by love, but mostly fear, you wrestled free from Gardener’s grasp, and bolted into the room.
Mr. Bale, and Mr. Harver were standing by the door, trying to assess the situation. Meanwhile, in the corners of the white bathroom, were two men. One of them, you didn’t recognize. He had a gun pointed at the man across from him. Adam Faulkner Stanheight was across from Lawrence. He was crying and begging, pushed into the corner as far as he could go, his knees up and his hands behind his head. His flannel was laying on the floor beside him. He could barely take his eyes off Lawrence to get a good look at who was in the room with them now. Gardener came in to help his partners.
“ADAM!” You screamed and launched yourself at him. You grabbed him, hugged him and started bawling into his shoulder.
Your boyfriend was so stunned to see you here. He wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N? W-What are you doing here? How did you get in? How did you find me?”
“I was so scared that you were dead!”
Adam laughed wryly. “So was I.”
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Not yet… Just very cold and wet.”
“Y/N…” Mr. Bale said plainly from the side. “Come back here. We don’t want you getting involved in this. It’s not safe.”
“So why the fuck did you bring them!?” Adam shouted.
Mr. Bale simply looked at Adam condescendingly. “Because your baby couldn’t keep herself/himself from stealing a cop car and following us all the way here before we could figure it out.”
Adam’s mouth fell open and he stared at you. You grabbed his cheeks. “I love you!”
Adam shook his head. “I love YOU.”
Bale grabbed your arm and hauled you away. “Okay, hold onto your lovesickness for a little longer. We don’t need more pedestrians in the way.”
You sank back a little bit, feeling hesitant and wary. Mostly you wanted to be touching Adam again. But you knew the police were right. It was safer for you outside the crime scene.
“I will not let my daughter die…” Lawrence’s voice was low and maniac. He cocked the gun once again.
The policemen moved towards him. “How ‘bout you give me the gun?” Harver asked. He was the closest one to Gordon.
Lawrence looked at them, his face white as snow, the whites of his eyes so bloodshot it looked like they were glowing. You noticed the blood seeping around him on the ground and you flinched back into the Mr. Bale. “Holy shit! His leg!” You gagged, feeling something heavy rising up your throat, and tossed yourself to the side, trying to block your view. Mr. Bale held you up protectively, watching tentatively, as his partners took care of things.
“I need to…” Lawrence sounded insane, like he had lost himself to the trauma of this event. He pulled the trigger without even looking, without even making sure he was aiming in the right direction. Not even making sure the gun wasn’t facing himself.
Your heart plunged, all kinds of sickness left your body instantaneously. All you could see was the bullet heading straight for your boyfriend’s chest. You didn’t even pause to think; it was instinctive. Leaping from your place by the door, arms spread out on either side of you, eyes open wide with terror, and your mind numb, you landed protectively in front of Faulkner, on your knees, gazing at Lawrence with hatred.
The bullet pierced you on the left side of your chest, only inches away from the most vital organ. Hot, searing, pain overtook your entire left side, and you screamed, crashing down onto the cool, tile floor. Blood welled from your chest and spilled down your clothes.You could hear the clanging of Adam’s chains, as he fought against them to get to you. “No! Y/N! Fuck, no! No! What the fuck!?”
Mr. Bale pointed at Gardener. “Call an ambulance! Probably get a locksmith as well.” Gardener ran into the hall, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Y/N!” Adam shouted. You were just out of reach of his hands. “No, no, no, no! Y/N!”
Mr. Bale came over and rolled you onto your back. Your vision was blurring and you were getting light headed. The last thing that you saw was the officer bending down to examine your facial features, and then you passed out.
You woke up on a park bench, with the green grass under your feet. Adam was in the building across from you, he wasn’t looking at you. You gazed around dumbly. From the side you could hear a soft melody drifting towards you.
So I bare my skin, and I count my sins
And I close my eyes, and I take it in.
And I’m bleeding out.
The air was warm and blew into your hair. You felt content as the sunlight touched you gracefully. Your mental state was relaxed and you felt right at home. You breathed in the Spring scents of flowers and life, feeling inspired. And the music continued distantly.
You tell me to hold on,
Oh, you tell me to hold on.
But innocence is gone,
And what was right is wrong.
Inside the strange, tall building, you could see the silhouette of your boyfriend through the tinted windows. He seemed totally indifferent to your presence, and it made you feel slightly jealous. What part of this wasn’t worth being with you? Again, the music came to your attention. It was solemn but meaningful.
‘Cause I’m bleeding out.
So if the last thing that I do
Is bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you.
You wondered what Adam was doing over there all by himself. Gently, you started to get to your feet, your clothes blowing in the wind. You swept across the grassy field dreamily, leaving behind the calming music.
So I bare my skin, and I count my sins
And I close my eyes, and I take it in.
And I’m bleeding out.
I’m bleeding out for you.
Slowly, you made your way to the building. It towered above you terrifyingly. And then, you reached for the door handle. It was hot from the sun, and smelled metallic. You breathed deeply, and pulled open the door.
You couldn’t see inside, it was mostly just white, but you could hear indistinct voices - one of them being excessively familiar to you. They sounded distressed, and scared. If they weren’t all talking at once, maybe you could have understood what they were saying. That was, until the familiar voice spoke. You could hear its words clearly.
“I can see them!? Are they okay? Really? Y-Yeah, but… you’re sure? I love them so much.” You walked inside.
In a painful, spluttering, daze, you tossed and turned in your hospital bed. Your eyes were open, and you were gazing around the place, high on medical drugs. Adam was bending over you, a worried look on his face. He was examining your face, but his gaze still flickered down to the wound on your chest sometimes.
He traced a thumb down your cheek, his bottom lip trembling. He was crying, and it broke your heart, but you didn’t have the energy to move. You stayed still, gazing up at the ceiling, face blank.
“Please come back to me…” Adam whispered. You blinked, and locked eyes with him. Adam’s eyes stretched wide when he saw your acknowledgement. “I love you.” You looked into each other’s eyes for a couple of short seconds, and then Mr. Bale came walking into the hospital room.
“I’m just about to leave,” he said. “But I figured I’d give you both one more check in.”
Adam nodded briefly, and forced his gaze to rest on the police officer. “Oh.”
“How’s she/he?” Bale pointed to you on the hospital bed.
“Doctors say they’ll be alright.”
“And you?” Bale inquired. Adam shook his head, the only response he could muster. “Hmm. It’ll take some time, but… you’ll figure it out.”
It was silent for a minute, both men watching you gravely. Their heart beats were pounding nervously, but the simple matter of having each other’s company was enough to calm them down.
Bale’s voice was somber and sympathetic, and echoed lightly off the tile walls. “She/He loves you.”
Adam exhaled sadly, not wanting to think about how much you loved him. He couldn’t take any more of the heartbreak.
“She/He proved that tonight, you know. Made a big deal of going with me, just for you, just to see you. But my job won’t allow that.”
Adam raised his hands up to his face, and started crying harder. You stared at him miserably, wishing you could move, but for some reason you were so tired. You closed your eyes.
“Well, I’m going to take my leave,” Mr. Bale said eventually.
“Okay…” Adam answered, and Bale started for the door. “Hey, um… Did you catch him?”
Bale stopped to adjust his vest. “No,” he replied quickly. “We went back to the site… The body was gone from the room.”
“Huh.”
In silence, the officer left the room again, leaving Adam staring at you. You felt Stanheight comb through your hair with his fingers. “I love you.”
You relaxed your head into his hand sleepily. I love you, too.
doodles for the day