Surviving Stirling

Chapter Twenty

"Dean Wilson?"

He looked at me, didn't answer, then unbuckled his seatbelt and nudged the door open with his foot attempting to get out all by himself.

"Hey, wait! You have some explaining to do!" He was actively struggling so I didn't really have any other choice besides rushing around to his side of the car in order to help him.

With the ongoing storm, wind and rain howled over the marsh, coldness soaked through the thin fabric of my clothing slicing into my bones.

He limped under my arm towards his cabin as I supported him by the waist with all of my strength, trying desperately to ignore the inconvenience of my heels sinking into the long grass and wet soil.

He groaned and complained in pain with every effortful step, he was in a real bad way.

"You should've let me take you to hospital."

"With your driving, we just about made it home."

He was incredibly heavy, the rain was obscuring our vision and making the mud slippy beneath our feet but after a long time I managed to help him inside and lay him down on the sofa.

"I'll be right back, stay here."

"Where else would I go?"

I dashed off to the kitchen, in the hopes of compiling a tray of things to help but truthfully I had nothing available. Sandy didn't even seem to own a basic first aid kit so I was at a loss.

I ended up returning with some things to help with the swelling. He was sat shivering with chattering teeth as rain dripped from his hairline and ran down his face.

"Here, take this." I shoved two plastic coated pills in his hand and squinted down at them suspiciously.

"What is it?"

"Anti inflammatory meds. It's going to help bring down your overall swelling."

He swallowed them, dribbling water down his chest because his lip was too swollen to correctly position it around the glass.

I used a dish towel to dab at the spillage on his chin but up this close, latching my stare into his, made my breathing hitch.

His eyes, usually stormy blue betrayed a slight tinge of green, the hue wrapping itself around the iris in a way that distracted me from the whites of his eyes being entirely blood-red or the lids swelled and violently discoloured.

This swirl of green I had never noticed before, enigmatic yet somehow impossibly expressing everything all at once.

"Why are you suddenly looking at me like you're seeing me for the first time?"

I found myself in his voice and realised how truly lost I had become in his gaze.

"We need to get you warmed up." I stated snapping myself out of the daydream.

I lit the log fire, hoping it would help thaw out our bones because his body was trembling and his teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

"How bad is your pain?"

"I will live."

Since rain had soaked through our clothing, he tried to shuffle his jacket down his shoulders but failed miserably, getting tangled in his own limbs.

"Let me help you." I grabbed a fistful of his black denim jacket and started lowering it down his arms. He moved out of it with difficulty.

I breathed out a concerned sigh at the sight of his colourful arms, "god Stirling you're absolutely covered in bruises."