Remile: Orange Tea

Sorry For Your Loss

EMILE NO

Also the chapter title hahahahahahahaha--

*chokes*

ASgjkn

Anyway, *cough* enjoy the chapter ya'll

Trigger warnings: Veins, blood, hospital

Janus's POV:

Andy was laying on the ground, knocked out, but I had more important things to worry about.

Emile was standing with a confused, terrified expression on his face and a golden-orange liquid that dripped off of his clothes in oozing puddles and stuck to his hair. He tried to smudge it off his face, rubbing it with his shirt sleeve, but the half-congealed stuff—was it medicine? Who knew—merely obligingly soaked into his clothing, staining it faintly yellow.

I ran over to him, hissing disgustedly as I tried to help clean him up. "Are you alright?" I worried, wincing at the way the golden stuff squelched under my feet. Bits of glass were embedded into his face and shoulders, blood already leaking in thin streams out of the injuries and mixing with the liquid.

"I'm fine, Janus," Emile tried to reassure me, but his still-frightened eyes gave away how unsure of that statement he was. He fell silent again at my gaze, looking slowly down at his bleeding hands as if he had just woken up from a dream. 

Which this was most certainly not. 

It was, in complete and utter honesty, a nightmare. 

"No, you're not," I insisted, glancing around for something, anything to help me calm down. "Did you sswallow any of it?"

He shrugged, unsure. "Only... a little bit, I think."

My legs shaky, I leaned against the wall. "A little bit?!" I said, frightened at how shaky and scared my own voice was. If I couldn't control my own tone of voice, what was I going to do?

Pull yourself together, Janus! For fuck's sake.

You're only weak, though, so you shouldn't expect too much.

...well, wasn't that supportive. I chuckled to myself, trying to smile through the painful bolts of fear that kept shooting through my body.

Emile glanced at me, his green-apple-gold eyes worried, but steady. "If anything, you seem shaken," he said. "Are you alright?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Remus pick up the dropped scalpel and turn it over in his hand curiously, then set it down and walk toward me with a soft, concerned expression.

"Maybe?" I tried, not wanting to be anyone's source of worry. "I mean..."

No.

No, no, I'm not okay.

The idea... just the idea of Emile or Roman or Remy or anyone else locked up in that small cell, bleeding out with no way to escape, made my anxiety spike, daggers of pain ripping through my lungs and cutting off my air supply.

"I don't..." I murmured, pressing a hand to my injured shoulder. "I just..." My voice broke, leaving me disgusted and horrified at my own weakness.

"Yeah, I get it," Remus sighed, pulling me to his chest in a gentle hug. His fluffy hair swished against my shoulder, making a soft shiver brush down my spine. "Well. I kinda do," he admitted.

Taking a deep breath that filled my lungs, I noticed the air was cool and damp, and still smelled of lemons. I relaxed into the warmth, trying to breathe in and out. In and out.