Discoveries | TMR | Three

6:2

A/N I unpublished this by mistake, sorry!!!

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Within a single shuddering heartbeat, everything changed.

It wasn't silent, not exactly. Just... muted, as though a heaviness had settled over it, dulling every edge. Voices faded into a low, indistinct murmur she couldn't quite catch. Movement slowed at the fringes of her vision. Even the lantern seemed dimmer, as if it had to sift through the air to reach her.

The heat of the room pressed into her spine, stifling, while the smell lingered in her nostrils. Sharp and metallic, soaking into the wood, into her clothes, her lungs. No matter how shallow her breaths became, it didn't leave. Someone shifted nearby, fabric rustled, a chair scraped softly across the floorboards.

No one looked at her, yet it felt like everyone was; their gaze sweeping over her figure like paint, while she couldn't tear her eyes away from the bloodied canvas in front of her.

Adeline didn't care if they looked, didn't move or try to shield herself from their stares. Her mouth stayed shut as a cold, sharp breath caught in her lungs, and despite every frantic voice in her mind screaming at her to look away, her head continued to betray. She waited for a sign; a flicker of his eyelid, a twitch of his lip or soft rise of his chest. Anything that would tell her there was even a sliver of life left in him.

Blood continued to spill steadily, each dark ribbon pushing through the gauze on his torso, trickling down and pooling on the table beneath him. She couldn't stop staring at the way it just. kept. coming. As if, while his mind was gone, his body refused to let go.

Refused to accept finality.

But it wasn't his body that destroyed her. Not the torn clothes stiff with blood, not the scratches marring his skin of scars that drilled a thousand distant memories into her skull... it was his face. That goddamn face. Through the carnage, through the ruin, his eyes were wide. Vacant and glassy, yet calm. Peaceful, even. A vicious contrast to the frenzied and terrified spark they held only moments ago when he was fighting for his life.

Adeline stifled the tears, swallowed down a sob. Her breath caught, jagged and tight, like even her lungs were rebelling against the truth. Her hand stayed curled around Daniel's through it all, noticing how it weighed more than it should. Limp and unresponsive in her grip. The warmth remained, his skin damp and clammy beneath her touch, but it felt unmistakably wrong. Familiar, yet empty. Still, she slid a single finger down the inside of his wrist and squeezed, holding her breath as she held for a pulse.

A pulse she knew would never be felt.

"Ads." Nick's voice was gentle, whistling through her daze. It was a flurry of light threading through the darkness trying to guide her back to reality, but it hit her like a strike.

Adeline flinched, her shoulders twitched. "Ads, look at me." His features shifted when she did, the tension in his brow softening and the hard lines of his forehead easing.

He reached out, resting a hand against her arm. The touch settled her, grounding but distant. "You still with me?" He asked, his voice low, meant only for her, controlled despite the crack at its edges.

Adeline tried. Fuck, she tried to answer, but her throat locked up. The words were there, clambering up her windpipe, desperate to escape but snagging on something unyielding before they had a chance to rise. Her lips parted, chin trembled and chest heaved, but nothing came. Instead, her vision slid back to Daniel's body, her mind clawing for one last look, one last confirmation that this nightmare was real.

"Don't look at him." Nick's tone was gentle but unrelenting, and his fingers moved up to cradle her face. He tugged softly at her chin, trying to ease her back to him. Trying to force her to meet his eyes, to stay with him in this moment, instead of drifting away.