Takes More than That | Galahadsproposal
@galahadsproposal continued from hereÂ
There was one thing that could be said about the incident, about his actions, that he would never regret them, regardless of the pain, the loss of limbs, the hardships ahead.. he would never regret the action of saving both mens lives. Hamish was a fairly selfless man, he cared so deeply for others than when it came down to it he would accept a the possibility of his own death before allowing those he cared about to parish.
He hadn't expected to live, the moment he'd belted the last word to Country Road and moved his foot off the mine he'd closed his eyes, he'd said a silent goodbye to the ones he was leaving behind and was prepared for his fate, making the ultimate sacrifice, or so he thought. But here he was, laid about in a medical bay, machines keeping him alive, blankets resting over his now incomplete form.
Slowly as his consciousness stirs so too does his senses, the warmth of a hand against his chill cheek, a voice though muffled he recognizes, he only hears every few words but he knows who it is, it dawns on him who it is. Now it's an internal struggle of telling himself silently over and over that he needed to wake up, to stop laying about and open your eyes.
His fingers twitch up again in a silent confirmation as he whimpers against the breathing tube, the pain too much, everything too much. Yet another rush of oxygen is provided to his lungs by the ventilator and with focusing his eyes move behind his eyes lids, soon managing to crack them open just the slightest bit. The florescent light of the room burning them, his vision blurry as he adjusts, his glasses likely lost. All he can feel is pain and panic as eyes only half open scan the room, vitals jumping all over the place as he does.
