WHERE TO NOW? (M/M) 18+

Chapter 33

Wounds.

My heart plummeted into my feet. "What the fuck do you mean it isn't enough?" My voice was loud, accusatory and sharp.

I could sense his unease growing, his eyes widening a fraction as they flicked up towards the gap in the roof.

He looked back at Damien. "I don't have the equipment I need. The thread won't help him if he's got internal bleeding and even if I did stitch him up, there's not enough length"

"So yank the hair out of Skylar's head, I don't care, find something"

He clenched his jaw, his eyes swirling with thoughts as he tried to find a solution.

Damien's breath was laboured, exhausted and pained.

I couldn't help my hands from gripping him tighter as I listened to him. It was agonizing to listen to him struggle for something so natural as breath. Something we'd spent our entire lives unconsciously doing. Something so simple.

I felt his hand clutch my back, his arm hooking gently around me as he breathed deeply into my neck. A movement that made my heart yearn to hold him. A movement that showed me he wanted to be held... or maybe it was that he wanted to reassure me.

I squeezed him tighter, feeling a lump form in the back of my throat. My heart ached in my chest. A shiver went through me, as if my body didn't know what to do with the pain.

"I need more supplies, warm water, fire. I've cleaned the wound as best I can but I need to clean it properly"

I didn't look at him. My mind, body and soul were drowning in his pain as I held my eyes closed, rocking him slightly in my arms.

Kieran didn't speak, but he let out a heavy exhale.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. No words or instructions, no ideas or plans. Just silence.

"Hold him still" Kieran said abruptly.

Panic ripped through my chest as my eyes shot open to look at him, ready to yank Damien away from him.

Kieran's hand gently pulled at the hem of his shirt, lifting it up to expose his hips.

I averted my eyes, giving him privacy.

Kieran gently lifted his arms, being careful as the fabric peeled away from his back.

Damien groaned against me, not out of pain, but out strenuous activity that he didn't have the strength for. Until his shirt pulled at the dry blood stuck to his wound.

He jerked, squeezing his eyes shut as he sucked in a sharp inhale with gritted teeth.

"I'll do my best to be gentle, but this is going to hurt" Kieran said quietly.

My heart yanked, and I held him tighter. I swallowed the protest itching in my throat, knowing it would be of little help to him.

Damien said nothing, but he gripped my shirt in his fist, readying himself.

Every inch of my being screamed at me to stop this, to do something. But I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but hold him. To comfort him. I needed to do more, I needed to help him.

Kieran started to pull.

Damien let out a series of sporadic breaths. Panting through the pain. Muffled groans vibrated against my neck as he tensed up in my arms. I could feel the scream buried in his throat, desperately wanting to come out. I could feel how much pain he was in.

I held him, I held him so tightly. I needed to help him, I needed to find something.

What did I do when I was injured? My mind picked at the memories, pulling them apart until I found the one I was looking for. Back at the motel, when we were looking for supplies, I found soap, and—