#tw bloo

It was like any other day, at the tattoo shop that was- Marisol was finally starting to fall back in her own routine, her own self and nothing compared to that. Her mamis treatments were going by wonderfully, she was getting strong, not letting a damn thing get in her way, and if she could do that- Marisol could do anything. As she was getting on her lunch break, she broke open her salad and starting to chow down, working the night shift threw her eating patterns for a loop, so by this point, she was starving. 

But then came the texts, and they made her stomach churn-- Carson was making no sense and in her mind she feared the worst. Talking to her boss, she was out in the matter of moments, speeding through the streets of LA. Her heart was beating so rapidly in her chest, she felt like it was going to come out, she felt like she was going to be sick. As she parked, she all but ran to the front desk, getting the right information before she was storming into the others hotel room, beating the door down. 

“Carson.”

The name fell from her lips as she stepped through glass, kneeled by his side and took his face into her hands. 

“Wake up CC, c’mon.”

▲This had been a colossally bad idea.

Made even worse by the fact that the God had no idea why he had bothered putting himself in such a predicament.

But Will found himself on the ground, blooding profusely from the chest as he struggled to sit up. The blow could have been fatal if it had hit its mark. In fact, it could have been fatal if he had been any lower on power.

Fortunately his heeling factor was in overdrive trying to fix the punctured lung; drain it of the sticky fluid that was trying to seep in through the wound.

The process was ungodly painful, resulting in Will retching blood and bile onto the ground while his body tried desperately to dispel it all.

He hoped Stanford was smart enough to have taken down the assailant as the golden haired companion lay on the ground trying to recover from a shot that should have killed him. Trying to regain a voice.

Eventually he was able to roll over onto his back and make a sound to let the Emblem know he was still alive, Despite the best attempts of his own stupidity. He could have let the Emblem die- it would have been easier that way.