Chosen's expression remains tired and solemn as he tries to keep himself standing and conscious. His arms nearly drop Dark's body onto the ground, but he hoists Dark back up more firmly in his arms, having Dark's head rest on Chosen's shoulder.
Chosen grunts as he weakly opens the front door to the house, taking a few tries to fully shove the wooden door open. He then makes his way into the main room, stepping sorely into the kitchen. He then dumps the unconscious Dark onto the centre of the kitchen island counter, Dark's body taking up the entire space of the wooden bench. Chosen lets out an exhausted breath as his arms are finally freed from carrying the other man. He rests against the side of the counter for a moment, building up his remaining energy once again. Chosen then stands up fully and reaches over to a set of overhead cupboards behind him in the kitchen. He winces as he opens a cupboard and grabs a roll of bandages, knocking over a few other things in the cupboard as he does so.
"God my arm hurts.." Chosen grunts lowly, grimacing in pain as he stands back next to the kitchen island. Chosen looks down at Dark. Blood leaks out and stains the bench from underneath Dark's body, dripping down the side of the counter. "Shit, you're gonna bleed out." Chosen scowls as he reaches over to start removing the other's burnt and torn clothing. As he carelessly slides the sleeves of the trenchcoat off his arms, Dark's rugged arms are revealed. The most concerning parts are the black, glitchy splotches down around Dark's wrists, like a small explosion of power.
"Heh...those Virabands really did more harm then good...idiot.." Chosen says, his tone gradually becoming more bitter as he speaks.
After removing Dark's torn trenchcoat and shirt, Chosen ponders in thought as he stares at Dark's torso with concern. Dark's chest is tainted with a large burn of lime green, trailing along his neck and up to his right eye. Scars, wounds and burns cover Dark's dirty body, blood leaking out and trickling onto the counter.
"Honestly you deserve this...after everything you've done..." Chosen mutters under his breath. Deep down, concern and sympathy creeps into his heart, only his good-hearted nature leaking through.
Chosen then takes a new cloth from a cupboard and dampens it under the sink. He tries, keyword "tries" to clean off most of the dirt and blood from Dark's torso, being careful not to disturb any of the wounds. After about ten minutes of just cleaning up most of Dark's body, Chosen grabs a fresh roll of gauze and unrolls a large portion. He gently lifts Dark's arm and starts wrapping bandages around a wound on Dark's arm tightly, making sure to press firmly to stop the bleeding.
Chosen mumbles incoherent sentences and swearwords to himself as he continues bandaging up Dark's body, pushing any intrusive thoughts aside as Dark lays mostly bare on the counter, his clothing bunched around him on the bench.
Short and shallow breaths continue to leak from Dark's mouth, barely noticeable, continuing to make Chosen nervous about the rate of the latter surviving. He reaches a gentle hand over to check Dark's pulse again, feeling two fingers on Dark's neck, but it's hard to....wait..shit..
Chosen's expression stresses as he can barely feel Dark's pulse. "Shit, shit shit shit-" he looks around, trying to think of what to do, before looking back down at Dark. "uhhh-" he slaps Dark across the face.
"..."
Dark remains unconscious.
Chosen's eyebrows furrow, before slapping Dark across the face again. "Wake up you fricking bastard!!"
Chosen then looks down at Dark's mouth and face, grimacing as he realises the inevitable...
"Oh go to hell if you make fun of me for this." he sighs with irritation as he looks to the side. "I'm gonna regret everything about this..."
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Brink of Death
Любовные романыA change of heart strikes The Chosen One's next course of action as his once best friend and ally, The Dark Lord, is now on the verge of death. Through stubborness, tending wounds, denial, and a slow path to regaining at least friendship...or maybe...