Scott was gonna quit.
Quit what, he wasn't quite sure yet. Whatever he needed to quit to stop fucking getting Mitch hurt. Fuck, if Kevin didn't arrest his fucking parents, he was going to hunt them down himself.
It felt like it took years for the medical staff to get to the garden. Scott had been stuck kneeling over Mitch, hands squeezing the bloody fucking hole in his arm for a lifetime.
Mitch had drifted between consciousness, one minute he was out cold and Scott was almost relieved that he wasn't able to feel it, the next, he was giggling and choking about something blue and Scott was trying to get him to stop talking just breathe it'll be okay before his eyes would go glossy and blank again.
He was half-tempted to pinch himself to make sure he was actually awake and not just trapped in another nightmare concocted by the evils of his own imagination. He couldn't make himself pull a hand away from Mitch though, and anyways. No sharp little pinch on his arm could possibly hurt more than this. Feeling the warm blood on his skin, sliding down his fingers and seeing the steady drip of it into the dirt. Knowing that this was because of his own parents, that Mitch was in excruciating pain because of his own family. That—even if it's just his arm—what if he only got Mitch back for a week before he—no. Absolutely not.
Just stay calm and keep applying pressure, listen for more pops just in case, stay low to the ground, he's still breathing fine, no don't move, I'm sorry I'm so sorry I have to keep my hands here stop moving—
Scott almost screamed when there were finally hands pushing him away—out of desperation or relief or terror or helplessness, he didn't know. After that, it seemed like everything was playing at double speed except for him. He tried to ask the lady ushering him inside what they were doing with Mitch, but she just told him to stay inside and disappeared again. He remembered trying to follow wherever they were trying to take Mitch, but a hand was on his arm and there was a small face looking up at him and she was telling him to take a deep breath—that's what Mitch tells him to do when this happens—and so he listens and then her face comes in focus but where did Mitch go where are they taking him will he be okay they all just disappeared so fast—
"Honey, if you can calm down a bit, I'll go find out where they're taking him, alright?"
He nodded at Esther. Yes, good, find Mitch. "I'm fine—I'm good."
Esther was waving someone else over. "Leigh, Cleo—can you two get him to his quarters and make sure he washes his hands off and gets a different shirt on? He's gonna try to pretend he's fine so he can come sit in a hospital waiting room somewhere, but I'll send Avi up to talk some sense into him when I get the chance."
"Sir—Scott, come on. You can't do anything, anyways."
Yeah, that's the issue here. He's the fucking king and he can't even help Mitch now.
He followed Cleo back to his room. Leigh was talking on the phone right next to him. Cleo was talking too, probably trying to sound reassuring, but he wasn't really listening. Just nodding and "mhm"-ing every now and then, doing his absolute best to try to remember the things Mitch did to calm down without thinking too much about Mitch's blood everywhere. He could feel his hands shaking, but he didn't dare look down at them until he stepped into his bathroom and turned on the tap. Then he did, and promptly turned to the toilet and threw up.

YOU ARE READING
A Reunion of Lips
Fiksi PenggemarSequel to Seven Levels Below--if you don't read that first, this isn't gonna make much sense! There were fingers digging into his shoulders, trailing down his spine, smoothing over his warm skin. He sighed and relaxed into the touch for a few minute...