Being Sylus’ partner naturally came with some risks.
Risks that really meant nothing at all to you considering your dangerous lifestyle as a hunter. You were quick on your feet, skilled with your weapons, and dabbled in a bit of illegal activities such as a car chase shoot out with said lover.
There were truly no risks scary enough to keep you from loving Sylus as you did. He – despite the nature of his lifestyle and reputation – was your safe space. It didn’t matter to you what situations that could bring forth, if you faced it with him, it was simple. And, I mean, he was the leader of Onychinus.
Nobody with a functioning brain and common sense dared to cross him. Only the morons with rocks in their skulls attempted to kill him.
Those that did were snuffed out before any damage could be done, Sylus was always ten steps ahead. Which very well could be the reason they are targeting you this time instead.
“Fuck… fuck…” Your hands shook as your gun clattered to the pavement. Linkon at night had always been relatively safe, but you got into the habit of keeping a weapon on you at all times. Sylus’ advice really, the gun now lying on the ground was a gift from him.
The tremor in your knees had you balancing on the cement wall of the alleyway, a thick metallic scent filling the narrow space. And, unfortunately for you, it wasn’t entirely due to the man that was now dead on the ground some odd-six feet from where you stood. No, the nauseating scent of blood was emanating from you as well.
Your shirt was growing wetter by the second, your hand scrambling to locate the wound and apply as much pressure as your jelly limbs would provide. The man had caught you off guard, one arm around your neck and the other slicing you with what you imagined was the knife laying inches from his cold hand.
The pain had been excruciating, deep and searing as he had gotten the knife stuck before yanking it back out.
You fumbled for your phone, head starting to swim with blood loss and the wearing off adrenaline. Stars spotted your vision, your mouth felt awfully dry. If you could keep yourself conscious enough to message Sylus, it would be a miracle at this rate.
“I… this can’t be how I fucking die…” Your fingers slip, slick with blood as you miss his contact a few times. The relief that floods your body when your phone begins to ring is enough to actually bring you to your knees this time. Bottom hitting the cement ungracefully as your phone tumbles to the ground beside you.
Had he hit anything vital? Punctured your lung? You were bleeding badly, but you couldn’t imagine something like this taking you out so fast. “Sweetie?” it felt like his voice echoed from where your phone lay untouched, bouncing off the building walls and back at you.
“Mm, hey Sy… kinda got into a situation.” it felt like you were chewing on sand to get the words out, you had to wonder if it sounded that way too. “Where are you?” It takes a second for you to recall, eyelids growing heavy. Rather than one of his nicknames, you’re slightly startled when he calls out to you by your actual name.
You gasp slightly, not realizing how little air you were dragging into your lungs but flinching as it irritates the wound further. “Sy, m’sorry but I’m bleeding… real bad… s’hard to think…”
He says something but the ringing in your ears drowns it out. So you muster up enough strength to keep talking while you can. “...killed the guy, Sy. Shot him right in the head… never killed another person before… was shakin’ so bad…” your head thumps against the building you’re slumped against. “Sy, I… I think m’gonna die.”
You flinch again as you huff out a humorless laugh, vision blurring into nothing but fuzzy shapes. “You are not going to die.” His words were tight, strained from stress. You were too out of it at this point to hear him, nevermind respond. Maybe that was for the best, since the panic that laced every syllable would have truly traumatized you more than anything else that had happened to you thus far.
“M’sorry, Sy.” Nearly a whisper, one that shattered his heart into a thousand pieces. You were scared, you had been gravely injured.
And he hadn’t been there to protect you.
And yet you were using the last bit of your strength to apologize to him? “Don’t you dare apologize. I’ll be there soon, baby. Mephsito just has to locate you and I’ll be there.” Again, you didn’t respond, which only sent him further into his frenzy. “You better still be breathing.” Tense, as if the word physically pained him to say.
“Don’t you dare die on me.”
The metallic flapping of artificial wings could be heard, enough to pull you right from the brink of oblivion to meet the beady gaze of red eyes. “Mm..” You couldn’t get anything out, your tongue felt like it had been weighed down with sand.
“Save your strength.” You groan as you flinch, the wound searing hot despite how cold you were beginning to feel.
“Sy…” the breeze of his evol dispersing was a welcomed comfort, so was the familiar sweetness of his cologne over the nauseating metallic tang of your draining blood.
“I said save your strength.” You couldn't lift your head to properly look at him, couldn't so much as open your eyes enough to see his handsome face one last time. Tears began to fall, slow leaking globs down your worryingly pale face.
“M’right here. You’re going to be alright.”
You were being lifted, cradled against his strong, warm frame. With your last bit of consciousness, you mumbled a barely audible ‘I love you’ before going limp in his embrace.
You hadn’t been alright, not for the first few hours at least.
It had been a sweet lie to whisper to you, to foolishly promise in hopes of comforting you. Sylus would never forget the feeling of you dying in his arms, albeit brief. He had, of course, been prepared. Summoning his own private team of doctors, having them ready and waiting by the time he had stepped foot in Onychinus’ base again.
Something he had invested in shortly after getting you back, a team of doctors he knew he could trust with your life. While he had a much different perspective going into that investment, he now realized badly things could have gone had he not had it in the first place.
You were dead for six minutes. Your heart stopped functioning, lungs ceased all movement. Sylus stood back, covered in your blood, utterly dazed as he watched them fight to get your heart beating again. The sickening crack of your ribs as they performed CPR, the frantic but level conversation shooting back and forth as they started on your wound and hooked you up to an IV for blood transfusions.
All the while, they were still manually pumping your heart.
His entire world, the other half of his soul, lying dead right in front of him. Not a single thing he himself could do to reverse the damage that had been inflicted.
He couldn’t even get the satisfaction of putting the motherfucker that did this to you through hell. But, oh, he’d figure out who he was, he’d figure out who sent him after you, he’d rip them limb from limb.
“Don’t you dare leave me.”
Silent over the chaos, not a prayer or a plea. No, it was a command. As if he harbored the same power you held back then, the same power that lies dormant in you right now. If you could bind his soul to yours, then dammit he was going to return the favor. You were not leaving him, especially somewhere he couldn’t follow.
It felt as if time stood still when the doctors stepped back from you. Sylus wasn’t sure how long it had been, but with weary eyes, one of the doctors turned to him. A middle aged woman, a gentle smile on her lips. “Mr. Sylus. She’s stable.”
The grief and fear clinging to his heart lightened in that split second. “She lost a lot of blood, her heart did stop.” The woman’s smile faded a bit. “The CPR did fracture two of her ribs, we set those, stitched her wound, and she is now on a diluted saline and blood drip.”
Her throat clears, eyes trailing back to where her partner was cleaning the blood from your cheek. “She’ll be okay, but with your permission I’d like to induce a coma.”
“A coma?” Sylus’ voice sounded hollow, panic prickling at his chest again. “Yes, with the wound itself and the broken ribs, she is going to be in a lot of pain. Given her heart condition, I think it would be beneficial to keep her unconscious so the stress doesn’t affect her heart. It’ll give her time to heal.”
It made sense, but it killed him all the same. “How long?”
“The wound was deep, it just missed vital organs. We stitched it with internal dissolvable staples and then glued the surface shut. Overall, I'd say a week, two max. Her ribs will take six to twelve weeks to fully heal, but the wound on her side is my main concern. She’ll be over the worst of it by the time we wake her.”
One to two weeks without your voice, your laughter, your pretty eyes peering into his. But it would save you the agony…
“Induce the coma, but promise me one thing.” She nods, hands folded in front of her. “Promise me she’ll wake up from it.” She had almost a motherly gaze as she took him in, perhaps not seeing the infamous leader of Onychinus. But, rather, a twenty eight year old man who nearly lost the love of his life forever.
“Mr. Sylus, once we remove the drugs from her IV that induce the coma, it will be up to her if and when she wants to wake up.”
The silence stretches for a moment, Sylus can’t look away from your peaceful form. “She’ll come back to you, Mr. Sylus. She wouldn't have fought this hard if she planned on going.”
This has been sitting in my drafts forever. Idk why I get so embarrassed over attempting to write angst but here this is I guess? Idk, maybe if y’all like it I’ll add it to the list to finish it up. But I still gotta work on that little blurb where they fought lol
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