WHERE TO NOW? (M/M) 18+

Chapter 46

Back Up.

The minutes bled together.

I didn't know how long I stood there, my hand still pressed to the mesh, the metal biting into my skin. Long enough for the sun to shift behind the trees. Long enough for the silence to grow deafening in my ears.

Kieran knelt beside Damien, one hand pressed against his shoulder, the other gripping his jaw. His voice was low, urgent, but I couldn't make out the words. When Damien didn't respond, Kieran gave him a light slap to the face—not hard, just enough to jolt.

"Come on," I heard him say, mouth tight. "Wake up."

Then Damien's breath hitched. A slow, ragged pull of air. His shoulders trembled, and blood still seeped from his palm, dark against the wood and pooling beneath him. His head stayed bowed, his body limp, but he was awake.

He was there.

The tight knot in my chest twisted until it ached. Relief fought against the fear, the helplessness. It should've felt like a victory. But all I could think about was how close it had been. How still he'd looked. How easily he could've slipped away.

And how I couldn't do a damn thing.

Not from behind this door. Not from where I stood—safe, useless, and terrified.

I watched as his eyes fluttered open, lashes twitching as the world came back into focus. Kieran leaned beside him, a blur of movement and urgency. Damien's brows furrowed, and then his face twisted into a wince—sharp, pained—as the damage came back.

I felt it like a fracture inside me. His pain cracked through my chest, raw and aching, like a wound splitting open.

"Damien," I breathed, the name catching in my throat like a prayer half-formed.

His fingers twitched. A slow, barely-there movement that made my stomach lurch. I wanted to run to him, to hold him, to fix this—but I knew better. Knew that if I moved too soon, if I reached for him before he was ready, it could all crumble.

So I stood there, my hands clenched at my sides, my body aching with the urge to close the distance. My tears blurred my vision, and I swallowed the sob threatening to escape.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Damien wasn't supposed to be like this.

But he was. And no matter how much I wished otherwise, no matter how much I wanted to take his pain away—I couldn't.

All I could do was wait.

"You awake? You conscious?" Kieran's voice was low, urgent, as he yanked off his jacket in one swift motion, the sound of fabric rustling filling the tense silence.

Damien didn't answer immediately, his breathing shallow and laboured, but after a long beat, he gave the slightest nod.

Kieran's gaze never left him, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. "I gotta take this out. Are you ready for this?"

Damien hesitated. For a moment, it was as if time itself paused, and I could see the strain in his features, the war inside him. Then, with a shaky exhale, he nodded, barely perceptible, but it was enough.

Kieran's jaw tightened, the flicker of uncertainty passing through his eyes before he bent forward, fingers brushing the hilt of the knife embedded in Damien's skin.