Number Twelve. Run

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My arms are sore but the slow movements all around me, wake me from the deep sleep I have been in. I was dying, Abel found me on the floor but that's the last of my memories.

I stir slightly, my senses groggy but there and I feel someone's hand running soothingly through my hair.

"Hey, don't move too much" Abel's soft voice is above me and I can feel his body under me, I am curled around him. Eyes groggy, the chairs around me unfamiliar, the tiny windows even more so.

I am on a plane.

My body jerks into action, eyes widening suddenly and head spinning from moving so abruptly. "What?" I croak. My throat dry and scratchy, I take the water Abel offers me, my body hyper aware as Abel helps me sit up.

I'm wearing a jumper and fluffy swears, a different look from what I had been in. "We're in a plane"

"Why?" I say, trying and failing at not getting upset. My arms ache and I am in a plane with Abel, now noticing an anxious Tyler sitting opposite us.

"We're flying to Spain" Tyler explains. "Everyone thinks you're dead"

"I don't understand" I say slowly, trying to get the words through the emotion clogging my throat.

"I saved you just in time" Abel says, "I couldn't let you die, when we land, we can make a plan, change our names but for now just try and focus on Tyler and I"

"But... but I wanted too" I gasp, tears rolling down my cheeks. "You should have let me die!"

The sobs wrack my weak body, Abel wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest, letting me curl into a ball. Crying myself all the way back to sleep.

I was ready to die. 

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