Out of Control (Damien x Reader)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚂𝚒𝚡 - 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔

This wasn't happening.

This couldn't be happening, it can't be true.

I was still grasping her cold, dead hand. It was so unusual to feel it this way. Drained of color, cold like ice, no longer holding the ability to grasp back at mine. The tears still stung in my eyes as if the news was just spread upon me, but that was hours ago now. The doctors would peer into the room every now and then, seeing if I was ready to give up and leave her. But I couldn't. She was my wife, my everything. How could I just abandon her now? How could I possibly continue this life with out her. Without my (Y/N)?

"Mr. Fischbach." A doctor called once they entered the room, a clipboard grasped in their dreadful hands. I hesitantly looked over at them, not bothering to hide my pain and anger. What could they possibly want?

"Mr. Fischbach." The doctor repeated again, "All of us on the team are sorry for your loss, but we do need this room."

I pretended not to hear them as I turned back to (Y/N), grasping her hand tighter than I had been before. I'm not ready to let go of her yet. I can't let her go yet. I squeezed my eyes tight, the tears slipping from my eyes, pouring onto my reddened cheeks.

"Mr. Fischbach, we need the room-"

"Just give me those damn papers." I growled, holding my free hand out to him, it shaking in its intensity. The doctor didn't waste a second, shoving the papers into my hands, watching as I signed the Death Certificate and permission for the doctor's to take her body. I took a moment, looking between her and the papers. This isn't real. I hadn't even told anyone what has happened.

"Can I have those papers, Mr. Fischbach?"

I shoved the forms back into their hands and gestured for them to leave. They informed me that the morgue would up to come collect her body and bring me a copy of the report. Where is the empathy? Why does nobody care? I then placed a gentle kiss onto the back of her palm, still not used to the coldness of it.

I'm so sorry, my love.

-

I found myself in the bar that night. Hunched over the table, a glass of whiskey clutched in my hands. My eyes were heavy, and a weight had rested on my chest, making it hard to breath. How was I going to get through this? I quickly slammed down the drink and ordered another one, the bartender not wasting a moment to pour it so he could add it to my tab. I didn't even have the money to spend. I had just graduated college, sitting on a mountain of debt, not even counting (Y/N)'s medical bills.

I didn't want to think about that right now.

I didn't want to think about when I got back to my crappy apartment, that she wouldn't be waiting there for me.

I didn't want to think about how I wouldn't be able to see her anymore. I couldn't see her beautiful face. Hear her wonderful laugh. I wouldn't be able to kiss her or hold her ever again.

I slammed the drink once more and shoved the glass away, then placing my head down onto the cold bar. It was smoothing, in some way. Relaxing as much as it was draining. I then felt a hand placed onto my shoulder, and it rested there until I lifted my head and looked at who was standing before me

It was Chase Brody.

He stood with his hat backwards, green hair peeking beneath the gray cap as he wore his jeans a comic t-shirt. Chase gave me a half smile, a beer in one day half empty. "Didn't think I'd find you here." He chuckled as he sat next to me, drinking from his beer before he cleared his throat, "You weren't in class today, neither was (Y/N)." He still wore that award winning smile while he waited for my answer. I almost couldn't bring myself to tell him. He would be just as destroyed. Chase loved her, too.