The Fire Inside

Chapter 31

The darkness was preferable. You felt nothing. But every so often the pain would bring you back. Then the darkness wouldn't come, as the pain kept it at bay.

You heard screaming, you wondered where it was coming from until you realised the screams were yours. Only because it didn't sound like you. Hell, it didn't even sound human. It sounded like some demon dragged from the pits of hell. Throaty, guttural and tormented.
But you were tormented. Held down by the people who had said that they loved you, cared for you. But how could they, when they were doing this.

You struggled as they held you down on the table. Javier held your arms, Arthur held your hips. Hosea tried to dig the bullet out of your stomach, ignoring your screams, or at least trying to. Screams that every so often would turn into sobs, despite Dutch's soothing words.

You wanted to tell them to stop, but you couldn't speak any words. None that were intelligible anyway. So you thrashed your head from side to side. The whisky soaked rag Dutch had given you, which did nothing to ease the pain, had long since dropped from your mouth. You now started to bang your head on the table. Lifting it up and crashing it down in hopes that if your head hurt, it would take away the unbearable pain in your stomach. Dutch soon put a stop to that, holding your head still. Firmly but gently.
"Don't sweetheart. You'll hurt yourself," he soothed, the cracks in his voice becoming stronger.

So all you could do was scream and sob. Tears running down your face, that you barely noticed. All you noticed was the pain. You didn't even notice the sound of metal on metal, as Hosea dropped the bullet into a metal bowl. Or his sigh of relief, knowing it was finally done.

Then the white hot pain which was too much to bear. The last sensation before the darkness came and took you again, was the smell of burning flesh.

Your breathing was shallow and ragged. The hole in your stomach, now stitched and covered with a bandage. The white wedding dress, long since removed you lay semi naked on the bed. Moved from the kitchen to the bedroom you shared with Dutch at Shady Belle.

How long he sat with you, you had no idea. Every so often, you would wake, feel water on your lips, a cool rag on your head, before the darkness sucked you back under.

Occasionally you would hear some one ask;

"Any change?"

The answer would always be in the negative, as the fever took hold.

In your brief moments, of lucidity, he was always there. You didn't always see him, but you could smell his scent, cologne and cigars. You would hear his deep voice, cracking in response to some question. Feel his touch on your face.

You weren't quite sure how long it had been, but despite the fever, you were lucid.

You looked at Dutch, tears pooling in his eyes, as though he knew.

"Hosea," you whispered, "I need to speak with him...alone."

Dutch frowned at you, but nodded.

You watched as Hosea walked towards the bed.

He sat down gently, on the edge.

"I need...I want Dutch to have everything, I need you to write it down." You whispered.

Hosea gazed at you, sadness veiled his face. "You don't need to do this, you're gonna be fine," he whispered.

You smiled at him, "we both know that isn't true," you whispered.

Hosea nodded, and grabbed a piece of paper. Writing quickly.

"You'll need to sign it," he whispered.

You took the pen, and scratched your signature, across the bottom. It was shaky, but legible as yours.

You handed the pen back to Hosea, "You'll look after him, you and Arthur?" You asked, "He'll be ok, as long as you're both with him."

He nodded, as a tear escaped his eye. You'd never seen Hosea cry, he had always been strong.

"I need to speak with Arthur," you added.

Hosea stood up and walked to the door. He turned back to look at you, as though he was about to say something. But he changed his mind.

It wasn't long before Arthur came back in. He sat on the bed and held your hand.

You smiled at him, "you lied, didn't you?" you asked.

You could see tears filling Arthur's eyes, being held back by a sheer force of will.

"I had to," he replied, "for him, he needed you more than I did. He still does." he whispered, looking away.

"Your a good man Arthur, don't let anyone tell you otherwise," you whispered.

Arthur kissed your hand. "You should be with Dutch, I'll go get him."

Dutch walked back into the bedroom, you felt yourself fading, there were so many things you wanted to say.

He sat on the bed and touched your face.

"I wish... I wish we could have had more time," he whispered.

"I love you," you said, tears beginning to fall, "I wish I had told you sooner."

Dutch gently kissed you on the lips.

Your eyelids started to flutter, as you felt cold.

"Hold me, I feel cold," you whispered.

Dutch wrapped his arms around you, he was so warm compared to how cold you were beginning to feel.

"I love you, Blair. Never forget that." he cried.

You felt yourself getting colder, no even Dutch's embrace could warm you up, as you slipped into darkness for the last time.