Let me...

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What if Selina was taken by Jerome?


Let me..

I was sitting on the cold floor of the garage and was glad that I was able to get myself out of the car.




Every part of my body hurt: every limb, every muscle, every patch of skin.




Selina whispered something from the back seat - she was finally awake. The memory of her unconscious body reappeared in my mind. She was so fragile, so helpless on the concrete in the choking embrace of this city.




"Are you okay?" I've asked, trying to get back to my feet. My left leg was the worst but even putting all my weight on the right one it didn't allow me a privilege to put my body back into the upright position.




"I am, but you don't look so good," she said, stumbling to my side of the car. She was still a bit pale, but the color was coming back to her features.





"I am okay. I just need a minute," I said, trying to compose myself, to make my voice sound not so broken.




"Let me..." she said quietly.




She sat on her knees beside me and touched my mask, but she didn't take it off until I nodded.




Her face took a sad impression for a minute. At that moment I've remembered how she was stitching my face. It seemed like centuries ago. I probably looked almost the same as that day. A thick layer of blood was covering my face from a gash on my forehead.



"It is not fully mine," I said, remembering how I hit Jerome's shooter with my head after his nose was already smothered into his skull.



She looked down covering her expression and put my hand on her lap. She unbuttoned my left glove and then got to my right. I've cringed a bit. My right hand was trembling and I've heard her sigh. 



I knew that I need to get it together and help her, but I was too tempted to relax. I've closed my eyes and felt her fingers touch my chin. The coldness of her hands was more than welcomed.



My first layer was of armor was not as hard to get off as the second one. Even though she was as gentle as possible, I felt her every touch pressing against my bruises. I almost moaned a few times. She was silent and straight to the point like a surgeon. After second layer was laid on the floor, she carefully took the hemline of my thin thermal sweater.




"Do you mind?"




I didn't say anything so she rolled it up and looked at my torso. Her stare was analyzing and professional.



"We need to get you to the hospital."


"No need. It is just a few bruises, maybe a broken rib."


"You've spent two days in that dungeon running from his guys!" she suddenly exclaimed. Her face furious and I finally understood that she was holding this phrase the whole time she was undressing me.


"You were there..." I said quietly.


"I was fed and slept for some time. I am not exhausted to death!" she bit back.


"They would have killed you..."


"You don't know that!"


"I do...He knows."


"What? I don't understand," she said, irritated.


"He knows what you mean to me..."



She wanted to yell at me. I saw that anger on her face, but it was overwhelmed, it disappeared. It was quenched by...pain. It was like someone pierced her through the heart and it was so painful that she couldn't even scream.



I raised my left hand and reached to her face, pushing my fingers into her hair.  She started breathing rapidly and I pull her to myself, letting her lay her head on my shoulder.



"You shouldn't ..." she whispered finally.


"I know, but I needed to s...," I wanted to say "save", but I knew that she will start to object, so I continued with a different word, "help you get out of there quicker.


"I could have done that on my own."


"I know. Maybe... I just like pain," I joked.



She sighed, shook her head and looked at me. Her expression is closer to tiredness now.



"I..." I've started, but she covered my lips with her palm.


She leaned to me cupping my face with her hands. She stroked my cheek with her finger.


"You will get blood on you."


"If it is the only way..." she whispered. Her face was just a few inches from mine and I caught my breath. During all these months I almost forgot how I get hooked up on this closeness.



But her hands just let go my face and wrapped around my torso.



"On three we will stand up and get you to the closest bed."


"Sounds good," I said poorly hiding my slight disappointment. She noticed, of course.


"Did you think you will get a kiss for behaving like a suicidal Romeo?" she narrowed her eyes.


"At least a hug," I commented sheepishly.


"On three!" she commanded.




Bed was amazingly soft and dim light was a long awaited relief to my eyes.  I think I smelled like a drug store and amount of bandages created a second layer of skin on my torso. We've agreed that since I didn't start to crush during 1 hour stitching and cleaning my wounds, we will wait until the morning for going to the hospital. Alfred was away traveling so Selina had to patch me up. I felt some kind of guilty pleasure as she blushed a few times when our hands inter winded over bandages. Now it still made me smile even though every move reminded me about my injuries.




She entered the room without any sound. She probably hoped that I fell asleep.



"Why aren't you sleeping yet?" she complained, putting a glass of water and some pills on the nightstand.


"I am about to," I answered honestly knowing that sleep will catch up with me soon enough.


"I will leave some painkillers for you. Just in case."


"Thank you."



For some reason we both had nothing else to say. We just continued looking at each other as if we were weighing if there is anything that should be mentioned.



"Would you like me to stay for some time?" she asked and immediately rethought her question, "I mean I still don't know if you had any head injury. I can call an ambulance or...
'

"It will be nice... just in case," I've nodded with a serious expression, knowing that it will be easier for her to admit a "health safety" reason.



She nodded and sat in the armchair, but in a few moments she stood up and went to the other side of the bed. She sat on the edge still in the polite distance from me.



"Your armchairs are terrible," she commented.



I've smiled and slowly turned to face her.



"Thank you for taking care of me..." I whispered, feeling my eyelids becoming too heavy.


"You too," she whispered back barely audible.



I dozed off having let tiredness take me over and heal me in its own way. Somewhere deep in the that unconscious well, I felt someone tucking my blanket. And I was glad that she let herself stay...




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