M E D I C ! *

If anything, it made him grin, knowing well that after all that time away from his body, he still managed to surpass his expectations. Still capable of taking him down, body full of stab wounds, yet somehow he still managed to hold on. Hands soaked in blood, he took a careful step towards him, arms outstretched, as if awaiting some sort of embrace he could never receive. Proud of what he’d become, it left him in a fit of laughter, his shuffling steps unsettling as he attempted to close the space between them both. 

There’s a subtle tug at the corner of his mouth, resembling almost that of a smile- were he to look closely enough. Amused, more so than anything, how they’d come to fall into routine, night after night when the fighting was over. How he’d pull his head from the contained, chilled space, and allow him a smoke, a chance to socialize while he worked late into the night. Yet plans had happened the evening before, forced to work through the night and leave him in cold isolation. Never his intention, for even he too would admit he missed his company. Though the confession would never be spoken aloud, it lingered in the back of his mind, threatened to form on his tongue, yet forced down, for fear of coming across as too attached to the man before him. 

A hand was placed atop his head, a gentle pat, like petting a dog out of pity for his whining and need for attention. He could understand his frustrations, which is why he cared not to argue with him. Instead from his coat pocket he revealed a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his own lips to ignite it with a flame. A slow drag was taken, before placing it between the spy’s own lips to allow him to have his morning smoke. 

* love ♥ starters || Accepting || @refiinedrogue

“And shouldn’t I be saying the same thing to you…”

There’s a glass of wine in hand, one leg crossed over the other as a cigarette dangled between his fingertips. It had been a long day for the two of them, filled with murder and death, back stabs and dismemberment, being forced to put men back together and defying god himself. Just another day on the job, it seemed, but even he too, needed a chance to relax, allow his necktie to hang loose about his collar as a drag was taken and slowly exhaled. 

Rare for him, to ever really enter the man’s smoke lounge, but on such nights it was needed, his company coming in small talk and between the records that broke the silence. It gave him chance, to be at ease, slipping late into the night and before he knew it, time to rest up for another chaotic day that would follow come morning. Yet in his mind, he couldn’t help but wish for the night to stretch on longer, as if the world would grant them more of a chance to be together.

His smoke was set aside, left in an ashtray to burn away the last of its life as he rose from his place. Wine swirled in his cup, almost empty, but not quite as he moved in closer to the spy, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as his brow lifted slowly. “You seem eager to have me take my leave- and here I thought you enjoyed my stories and company.” 

Inside however, he knew the spy cared, reason why he brought the subject up at all, wanting what was best for his well being. After all, a sleep deprived medic was sure to make mistakes- and no one would care to be on the other end of whatever blade he may carry, were that to happen. “I suppose I will, for you- only because you asked so nicely.” 

@doesharm  RESCUED  !     /     CALL.    /     EXIT WOUNDS

The world shifted so quickly, darkness began to cloud his vision. The Hunter’s dead, resting lifelessly several feet away from the two. Its claws drenched in the mechanic’s blood. New wounds decorate his shoulders, soon to welcome the new scars that would take its place once it’s healed. He escaped —- They escaped, for now. Normally, this wouldn’t phase Ellis, as he’s fought these infected for as long as he remembered, but the event plays in his mind like a record player. A song that won’t change it’s tune.

     ❝      My hands are cold. My body’s numb.     ❞

A hand rests itself over his chest, feeling his increased heartbeat. It thumps harshly against his ribcage, pounding a thousand miles a minute. Relax, it’s over. You’re safe. He desperately tries to repeat it in his head, but the pain nor his heart rate decreases.  

     ❝     ——-I’m still in shock.      ❞

He’d filled the beast with bullet holes as fast as his gun would allow it, tendrils of smoke still wafting from the barrel as he as he rushed to his side. Knees scraped against the cold asphalt, bringing with it a sting- yet he felt nothing, only fear and panic clouding his mind as he found himself beside the younger man in an instant. Protective, perhaps more than the mechanic realized- or maybe more than he let on. It was only in these brief moments that it showed, a light rain coming down on them both as worry lay heavy upon his expression. 

“You will be alright-” 

A lie he’d told too many times, it seemed, to those whom he lost- which left him sick to even think about, were his words not to come true with him. A hand clutched his, and with a tenderness so foreign in such a world they lived in, did he try and carefully examine the wounds beneath tattered clothes. A miracle he’d not hit an artery, a blessing he silently kept to himself as he tried his best to remain calm. Yet blood slowly began to pool and stain beneath his shirt, and with it, the loss of precious time, knowing well he could bleed out from the damage alone.