Red Thread of Hate

Hit me baby one more time

Your back hit the wall behind you with such force that you felt dizzy for a moment, and maybe if you were thinking straight you would have started to fear for your skull.

You swore that time slowed down for a moment, and when your senses started to come back, the first thing you could feel was the pain in your back and the back of your head. A sharp, stabbing pain erupted within you. Your vision blurred, everything lost clarity for a moment. White, hot and burning pain emanated from where your skull had hit the wall. All you could do was curl up on the floor in a cacophony of suffering, tears on the verge of spilling from your eyes.
The throbbing of a dull pain made it hard for you to think, but you lifted your head for a moment, but the room around you was spinning so much that it didn't help you at all. You were sure your back would be bruised the next morning, but that wasn't the least bit on your mind now. You gritted your teeth, trying to focus your eyes enough to locate Alastor, who was standing in front of you. You couldn't see him clearly, but the black and red blur was enough.

“What THE FUCK is wrong with you?” you hissed, resting your body on your hands, your arms held you up, but with every little movement the pain throbbed more. “You fucking piece of shit! Seriously? You choose violence instead of conversation? Great, good to know!” you were breathing heavily, you weren't sure if it was from rage or pain or something else entirely. You shifted your weight onto your hands, trying to get up, but the pain shot through you so hard that your eyes watered and you whimpered unconsciously, freezing in place. You stared at your hands, praying not to cry, feeling like it was the last thing keeping you from showing your weakness at that moment.
You knew you had no choice but to grit your teeth and get up, praying that the pain wouldn't be so intense that you'd pass out.

“Stop moving.” a man's voice now sounded close to you and you could see red striped fabric near your hands. “You'll only make it worse, just, just don't move.”

It took you a moment to connect the dots, but you realized that Alastor was kneeling next to you. His hand moved towards you, but you pulled back abruptly, whimpering as the pain shot up your back again. “Leave me alone! I can handle it on my own, you fucking bastard!” you weren't sure if you believed it, but even if you were lying, you had to.

“No, you can't, calm down.” you heard that his voice sounded different than usual, the lack of a radio filter made it sound more human than usual. He didn't even have the tone of a showman, his voice seemed almost nervous, or maybe it was and you couldn't tell? “Just don't move, let me see it.”

“Do not touch me!” you screamed, trying to push him away, tears gathering in your eyes. “Do not fucking touch me! It's all your fault!”

“Listen, just let me see what condition you're in, I won't leave you here like this!” even kneeling he was taller than you, you felt him lean down to look at the back of your head and you shuddered, realizing that he could attack you and you wouldn't be able to defend yourself. “All right, it’s…  no blood, now…” he almost sounded lost and if it had been anyone else you would have felt sorry for him. “Listen, I'll take you to the couch, you can't sit here. Do not move, just don’t move, dear.”

“No, no you won’t do it.” your voice cracked, you were almost shaking, “Fuck off.”

He sucked in a breath, you weren't sure if it was from anger or something else. In fact, you didn't think you'd ever seen or heard him like this before, without the radio filter, without the showman's tone, with a trembling voice.

Truly, he was a great actor.

You gasped at the feeling of his arms lifting you, one under your knees and the other somewhere around your lower back, but not anywhere that would cause you much pain. You grabbed his jacket, unable to look up at him. What now? What would you see? A smug smirk? Oh, that must have been a great situation for him, right? You could only hope that you would be able to walk tomorrow, otherwise you would be completely at his mercy.
He placed you on the couch, with your side to the backrest so that your back wouldn't touch anything, and you still didn't look up at him. Your mouth pursed with rage, your head throbbing with pain. Couldn't he have left you? Fucking son of a bitch, you couldn't imagine hitting someone for no reason. His heels hit the floor and that was the only way you could tell he had left you, and then you heard the sound of something opening. You looked at your hands as you heard him return, your fists clenching as he was next to you again.