Fate's Bullet

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Third POV:

He was back; Back in the painfully familiar hospital. The same low quality seats that made his back hurt, the same bright florescent white ceiling lights that hurt his eyes, the same glossy tile floors that he could just barely see his reflection in. Nothing could soothe Espios worries. Not Vector patting his back or Charmy resting his head against his leg. If anything it made him feel worse. It made him feel guilty, and useless. Pathetic even. He had one job. To take care of Silver, to make sure Silver healed after the accident, to make sure nothing happened to Silver during his recovery. And yet he failed.

The lump in his throat hadn't left for the hours he had sat in that chair, nor did the trembling of his body and the occasional tear that plopped down onto the low quality fabric beneath him. His body hurt. He had taken no time to bandage or clean himself up. It was the last of his concerns despite the subtle throbbing in certain areas. Vector would speak to whatever doctor would stop by them to deliver small bits of news about Silvers condition and Charmy began to get antsy and jumped around on the few colored tiles scattered on the floor. But all Espio could do was sit. He was too tired to lift his head up and look around and too distraught to look anyone in the eyes. "It's getting late.." Vector hummed beside Espio, Espios eyes ever so slightly shifted to Vectors side. He hummed in response, quickly averting his eyes back to his lap. "We might have to head back ho-" "I'm not leaving." Espio interrupted Vectors words, his voice stern and cold. He couldn't leave, he wouldn't leave. Not without Silver. "You may leave but I am not." He added, his voice cracking a bit this time. "Es, I get it, but we can't stay here all night." Vector leaned forward in attempts to meet Espios eyes. "NO IM NOT LEAVING WITHOUT HIM!" Espio snapped, jerking out of his seat with his fists clenched at his sides. "I- I can't leave without him.." His voiced cracked as his eyes began to water. He clenched his chest and his body sagged, small tears screaming down his face. Vector stood up, gently hugging Espio who merely lowered his head. "He'll be okay Es, but we can't stay here all night. We'll visit him again tomorrow when we're all better." Espio reluctantly nodded his head, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. He quickly wiped his face off and walked to the door.

*

Espio was the first to leave the car once making back to their home. He shoved open the front door and quickly dashed away to his room. He heard Vector walk in the house just before he locked himself in his room, sliding his back down the closed door. His spines made long scratched down the wooden structure as he lowered himself, gently tucking his knees to his face and wrapping his arms around himself. With tear filled eyes he gazed around the room. His books still messily stacked, bedsheets tossed all across his bed, window open and little gray quills scattered about. Sitting there made him more aware of himself. He lowered his legs to lay flat on the floor, scanning over his body. Cuts, scrapes, burns and ash still covered his figure, how he didn't get pulled aside at the hospital being beyond him. He reached behind his head, feeling where the gash had began scabbing. He pulled himself off the ground and grabbed the bandaging on his dresser. He dragged his body out his room and down the hall to the bathroom, locking himself in. He grabbed his washcloth, running it under the tap before gently dabbing the wounds and wiping off the ash. It was so quiet, too quiet for his household. There was non of Charmys yelling or Vector laughing. There were no obnoxious children's cartoons blasting from the old TV or burning smells from Vectors attempts at cooking.

Worst of all there was no Silver, peeping over his shoulder to see what he was doing, or excitedly talking about the most mundane of topics or even helping him care for his injuries. It was all quiet and still, and he hated it. Espio would always complain about how he preferred peace, and quiet. He valued his alone time over most other things. But now, now that he was alone, and it was quiet. He felt miserable. He felt his head throb and his heart sink and guilt, regret and shame eat away at him. Why had he been so careless with watching Silver, why had he let him venture off, why wasn't he there. He pulled the rag away from his scales, looking down at the mess he had made whilst lost in his thoughts. His body looked worse. His scales stained with streaks of blood, some cuts even beginning to bleed again. The rag was covered in splotches of grime and blood, rendering it useless for cleaning. He tossed the rag back into the sink, carelessly wrapping his arms and legs with the bandages. He stumbled back out the bathroom, loose bandage swaying off his arms and legs as he wobbled back to his room. He shut the door, flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes, letting the faint smell of his lover lull him to sleep.