FRAMED - Cowboy Bebop fanfiction

Session 30

TW : mentions of drowning, CPR, and panic attacks

Quinn made her way to the bedroom, the floorboards creaked as she walked over them. Quinn extended a shaky hand outwards, wrapping her fingers around the doorknob. 

"Vicious?" Quinn called out as she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. 

There was no response. Quinn stepped inside the dark bedroom. The bathroom door was closed, light poured out from the cracks around the doorframe. 

"Vicious, I heard something fall, are you alright?" She called out, making her way towards the bathroom door. Again, no response. 

Quinn was beginning to worry. She knew he had ran a bath, what if he was drowning. Quinn bit her tongue as she pounded her fist against the bathroom door. 

"Just let me know you're alright!" Quinn groaned, her voice shaking with anxiety. No response again. Quinn continued to panic. Clearly he was unresponsive, and that either meant two things. He had passed out, or he had... died. 

Quinn assessed the situation as she paced back and fourth outside the bathroom door. Her heart was racing. Beads of sweat poured from her temples while an incredibly intrusive thought toyed with her fragile state. For a moment she felt as if her lungs had been emptied of all air. A memory pulsed through her skull as she ground her teeth together. She didn't want to save him, but she couldn't imagine the pain she'd feel if she let him meet the fate her brother almost met all those years ago. 

"I'm coming in," Quinn huffed awkwardly, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open. 

The site that befell her eyes was almost that of a crime scene. The bathtub was full, Vicious was unclothed but still had on a pair of boxers, and the water was bloodied. Worst of all, his face was completely engulfed by the water in the tub. 

Quinn screamed as her fight or flight instincts kicked in. Adrenaline began to pump through her veins as she yanked her captor out of the tub. 

"Don't die, please," Quinn panicked. Despite her hatred for him, the last thing she wanted was for him to die next to her. Now that she was with his unconscious body, she felt as if she was obligated to save him. Yes he had done bad things, and Quinn was in no position to care for him, but she had to think rationally in a time of danger. Dying, especially by drowning, was a deep fear Quinn had. She couldn't watch anyone die like that. 

Quinn fell to her knees as she pulled Vicious' unconscious figure out of the tub, and onto the bathroom floor. Once there, she flipped him onto his back and began performing CPR. 

"I don't even know why I'm doing this for you," Quinn cried between chest pumps. 

"I hate you," she grimaced before planting her lips onto his, breathing air into his lungs. 

"I hate you so much," she heaved, pulling upwards before continuing chest compressions.

 When her younger brother almost drowned at a lake when she was a kid, she vowed to never let someone feel the same pain he had felt. At the time her brother almost drowned, she had no idea what to do. Afraid and alone, Quinn called for help. She didn't know how to save him, but luckily a bystander did. If that person hadn't have came forward, her brother would have died. Quinn learned CPR and vowed to never forget how to perform it.

"Come on, breath for me," Quinn panicked, pumping his chest once more. 

Suddenly, Vicious' eyes fluttered open as he began coughing up water. Pulling his body upwards, Quinn dragged him to the sink where he began coughing up the remaining amounts of water in his lungs, and stomach. 

His feeble figure was hunched over the edge of the sink while Quinn watched his body contract. Quinn's heart was beating a mile a minute. The bloodied bathwater made her sick, and the shock of seeing him face down in the tub triggered something deep within her. 

Quinn stood up and ran into the bedroom, slamming the bathroom door behind her. She jumped into the bed and covered her head with the bedsheets. She began to cry as her body shook. 

"Deep breaths, deep breaths," she repeated to herself as she attempted to calm herself down from what had just occurred. 

Her body and mind was in complete shock, and she was desperately trying to avoid hyperventilating.  Her panic continued as she listened to the bathroom door swing open. Her sobs prevailed, even when Vicious had taken a seat on the edge of the bed across from her. 

He did not speak, he did not attempt to touch her, he just sat there, at the foot of the bed, silent. His comfort, although not outwardly demonstrated, soothed Quinn's mind. Under the covers, she continued to sob. Tears stained the underside of the sheets as her finger nails dug into the delicate fabric. 

For minutes, she cried, and for the entirety of her panic, Vicious did not speak. Eventually, Quinn's tears had drained. Her lungs were tired of gasping for air, and her hands were exhausted from clutching the blankets so tightly. She began to calm down, and as her tears stopped flowing, she pulled the blanket downwards. 

Vicious was staring at her front the edge of the bed. His wet hair was dripping down his neck onto a  towel that was wrapped around his shoulders. Along his torso were various wounds and bruises. His legs were exposed, and Quinn saw that he had knife wounds as well. 

Spike never used a knife. She had no idea how he got those cuts. Someone else must have been fighting alongside him, someone other than Jet or Faye. Quinn pushed the thought aside as her eyes drifted upwards. That thought wasn't important right now, although it did seem like a good topic of conversation. Quinn decided to save it for later. 

His gaze met hers as he studied her shaking figure. 

"You saved my life," he announced.

Quinn nodded in response.

"Thank you, Quinn," he added, giving her a weak smile. 

"I don't know what possessed you to do such a thing, but I am grateful that you did," he stated. Quinn bit her lip.

"I would've done the same for anyone else. Don't think you're special," she quipped, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face. 

"I understand," Vicious replied weakly before getting up from the bed. 

"I suppose a bath was not the best option for tonight," he added lightheartedly before making his way back into the bathroom. Quinn listened as the tub began to drain. She rest her head against the bedframe as her body began to untense. 

She prayed she wouldn't regret her decision to save him.