The List (collaboration)

Chapter thirty-eight

~ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕓𝕪 ℙ𝕆𝕍~
~𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪~
I wake up in a lot of pain. I rub my eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light. I look around and see I'm in an alleyway, an all too familiar one at least. I get up but immediately fall back down, feeling extremely dizzy, before looking down at my thigh and seeing a hole in my thigh surrounded by blood. I sigh. Great I got shot. I slowly get up as not to fall again. I slowly start to make my way back to the bunker, limping, knowing my way back though.

~𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣~
I make it home. I walk in the door and limp my way to the bathroom, hoping Sam doesn't notice me. I go into the bathroom and sit on the counter, before Sam walks in. "What happened?" "Nothing Sam. I'm fine." "Bull, let me see." I don't listen and but my hands in my lap, hiding a wince of pain. Sam moves my hand and sees the bullet wound. "Jeans off now." "Buy me dinner first." "Shut up." "I'm fine, I'll be fine, I've got this." Sam rolls his eyes and pulls me off of the counter. "Before I do it for you." I roll my eyes and take my shirt off instead. He notices the one on my shoulder and sighs. "Fine, I'll deal with this one first." I sit back on the counter while Sam grabs peroxide, a towel, soap and some bandages. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch" he grabs the towel and cleans the area with soapy water before grabbing the peroxide and pouring it onto the wound. I take a sharp inhale in pain. Once he's done cleaning it, Sam grabs a pair of tweezers. "Ready? This is still gonna hurt, probably more than the peroxide" "whatever bitch" I say through clenched teeth. Sam rolls his eyes and starts to dig for the bullet. I groan loudly and after what feels like an hour, he pulls it out. "I could've done this myself, I didn't need help" I say, Sam rolls his eyes again. "You're a pain in the ass Samuel." He does it once more. "Take your jeans off, I have to get the other Bullet out." I roll my eyes and don't listen still. Sam huffs and pulls me off the counter. "Now." I roll my eyes and pull my jeans off before sitting on the counter. "Thank you." "Whatever bitch" Sam repeats the process of cleaning it. Sam steps on my jeans and bends down before coming back up with my knife. Before I can stop him, he stabs my leg and digs the bullet out "Ow! Sam! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"  He doesn't say anything and slaps a bandage on both wounds and presses down on them. "Samuel! Stop! Fuck!" He stops and walks out slamming the door. I sit and stare at the door I get off the counter and groan in pain. I grab my jeans and pull them back on before grabbing my knife and cleaning it off and shoving back in my pocket. I limp to my room and lay down before falling asleep.

~𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪~

I wake up and sigh thinking about nothing in particular. I grab my phone and look on Instagram seeing Sam posted on Instagram last night, I look at the post and see it was posted around the same time that Sam was helping me.... Wait, how would he have posted if he was with me? Hes not your Sam, I was right, you know what you have to do Cole. No, I can't, just because he's not my Sam doesn't mean that I don't love him. But he's not your Sam, and he doesn't love you. He has his own Colby. One that's better, he doesn't want you and will never want you, it would probably be better if you just left without him. Thats why he was acting different, because he didn't love you, he just did it because you're a psychopath and probably didn't wanna get killed. I look down knowing that the voice is probably right. Plus, you fucked up yesterday to add to it, He most likely hates you. Just leave. I look at the time on my phone. It reads '3:00 pm' I sigh and get up. I notice I bled through the bandages. I change clothes and take the bandages off. I limp out of my room and see Sam. I should apologize. No bitch boy, there's no point. Just go. I put my head down and walk out of the bunker and get into my car. I head to the store and grab some gauze and medical wrap. I pay for them and go back home. I get back and Sam is gone. What did I tell you? He hates you. I sigh. you're right...