You Won't Feel A Thing - (The Script Fanfic)

Chapter 19

After about 10 minutes of standing, wishing Danny to come back and remove my hand from the handcuffs, the adrenaline began to wear off. My muscles were aching more than I had thought they would. There was a pang of pain in my stomach. I looked down at my top to see blood seeping through. I lifted it slightly, noticing my stitches were not how they had been before. Shit.

"Don't you dare become infected." I muttered down to my stitches as though they would hear and behave. Cautious not to rip my stitches any further, I gently sat down. I pulled the phone out of my pocket, checking the time. 12:32am. I sighed. The battery was rapidly dying too. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

I had seen many films before where girls managed to unlock handcuffs using a hair slide that was so conveniently placed in their hair. It had always looked so simple for them. Unfortunately for me, I had no hair slides or a spare pair of keys in my pocket. I was not strong enough to rip the handcuff from my wrist. The only thing would be to try and break the pipe under the sink.

Manoeuvring myself, I managed to position my body so I could kick at the pipe, even if I was extremely uncomfortable. Scared I was going to rip my stitches further, I tried not to pull my leg up too far before I kicked with all my strength.

The pipe didn't even become dented. There was no way it was going to have any immediate effect, and I was sure I didn't have the strength to do that for hours.

"But you knew I wouldn't be able to do that, didn't you Dan?" If he was right there, I would not have hesitated to hit him. Slowly, I moved myself back into a sitting position, resting my back against the wall. There has to be some way out.

But was there?

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After about an hour, I gave up completely trying to pull myself free. Danny had obviously thought out the whole situation. There was no way I was moving until he came back to set me free. I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall. The position I found myself in was nowhere near comfortable, yet it was the best out of the options I had. Carefully, I lifted up my top to make sure my stitches weren't getting any worse. Unfortunately, I noticed that one had snapped clean. Cautiously, I touched them. A bit of blood oozed out from my wound. I needed a bandage, but that wasn't available in the bathroom whilst stuck under the sink. Sighing, I pulled my top back down. I made a mental note not to do anything else stupid that could cause my stitches to split. Then again, I had the haunting (yet very plausible) feeling that I was going to have to run or do something that was going to reopen my wound. The doctor had said "rest". If I had the chance, I quite happily would.

Nothing happened for a while. No sounds were heard - except from my breathing - and nobody came into the room. I hope Glen is okay. I hope Dylan hasn't hurt him.

I needed to rest. My eyelids were becoming heavier and my body was becoming more and more relaxed, but it wasn't right to fall asleep when people could potentially be in danger. Yet, fatigue didn't seem to care as it held me hostage in its firm grip. Soon enough, my eyes closed and I feel asleep.

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I awoke, hearing footsteps outside of the room. That better be you, Danny. The footsteps stopped right outside. Slowly, the door handle was pushed down and the door opened.

Danny strolled in as though he had all the time in the World. At first, he didn't speak: not that I wanted him to. Instead, he came over, bearing a small key in his hand. "I'm only letting you free if you promise to listen to me." He asked, holding my wrist in one hand, looking into my face.

"I'm not promising anything." I hissed. "You cuffed me to a bloody sink!"

"You will stay cuffed to the sink unless you promise." His eyebrows rose as he waited patiently for my response.

"Fine." I spat, avoiding his eyes. "You win. Now uncuff me."

He did, as he said he would. He helped me stand, then looked at the blood on my top. "What happened?" He looked slightly worried.

I sighed, lifting up the hem of my top slightly to show the wound and my stitches. "You and your need to run everywhere."

"To be fair, I had good reason to run." He said. "Does it hurt?"

"Aches a little. Come on. We have people to save." I said, dropping the hem of my top and began to walk out of the room.

"Slow down. I should probably tell you something." He met my eyes. He shifted his weight onto the other leg. He seemed nervous.

"What?" I asked slowly, knowing I wasn't going to like what he was about to say.

"I bumped into Dylan."

I felt my eyebrows raise. "And? What happened?"

"He offered me a choice: I hand you over, or Glen and Mark die." He put his hands into his pockets, bowing his head slightly.

"What did you choose?" I felt myself take a step closer to him.

"I chose to save my friends."

He moved quicker than I expected, pulling his hands out of his pockets and grabbed hold of me. There was a sharp prick in my side. I looked down to see him push a clear liquid into my body through a needle. I looked back up into his face.

"I'm sorry. It will be okay." He whispered.

My vision blurred rapidly. My muscles loosened. I felt myself relaxing against him as I lost control of my body. Soon, I was swallowed by darkness.