"Scott? Scott, answer me! Please? Scotty, please!"
Mitch is leaning over him, brown eyes as wide and frantic as Scott's ever seen them. He's got blood on his face and glass clinging to his hat and his left wrist is at a weird angle and his phone is pressed to his right ear. He inhales sharply when they make eye contact. "He's awake. Oh God, I think he's awake. But he's not— Scott?"
Scott tries to answer Mitch. He really does. But he's also wondering where they are and who Mitch is talking to and why Mitch is shaking and what's wrong with Mitch's arm and when the sirens he can hear in the distance are going to shut up because his head really fucking hurts and how is Mitch going to get those bloodstains out of his new white Valentino blouse?
Everything's getting fuzzier again.
"No, no, no! God, please don't pass out again, Sco—"
Damn. Mitch is going to be really pissed when he notices his blouse.
Blink.
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Blink
FanfictionScott's vision is fuzzy. Hazy. Unfocused like it hasn't been since the LASIK. He vaguely wonders why, but his head hurts so much he's distracted and can't figure it out. He thinks for a second that he's drunk. That he's given himself the mother of...
