Fragile Tension (Alan Wilder x Martin Gore)

3: The Injury

It was late into the afternoon and dusk was beginning to fall; the bandmates walked the streets back to the Motel as the sun set amongst the fluffy white clouds.

They had spent their day shopping and thoroughly making the most of having the day to themselves. Exhausted, their shopping bags hung loosely over their shoulders as their feet dragged across the pavement. 

"That was fun, wasn't it babe?" Alan asked his partner.

Martin simply nodded as he looked down at the ground.

Slightly concerned by his lack of speech, Alan tilted his head and gave him a look of worry.

"Are you okay?"

To reassure him, Martin looked up at Alan on the asking of the question and smiled.

"Of course I am."

But he lied. He didn't feel well. Whether it was the guilt or the drink in itself he was clueless, but he felt as if he were going to faint. His heart racing, his head and everything around him spinning.

Whilst in the shopping centre, he had snuck away once again with the excuse of needing to use the bathroom, but it was really so that he could drink in complete privacy. To the knowledge of no one.

And now it seemed he were paying the price for it.
~~~~~
The more they walked, the worse Martin felt. He was no longer paying any attention to where he was going. But he had to put on a brave face; no one could know.

Eventually, the only sounds he could hear were the four sets of footsteps coming into contact with the concrete and the conversation between Dave and Andy. His body and attention to detail growing weaker, he began to breathe heavily.

He had to speak up.

"I-I'm sorry guys,"

"For what, Mart?" Dave turned around and faced him.

Now worried sick, Alan instinctively placed his hand on Martin's shoulder.

Andy remained silent, but the look on his face spoke a thousand words.

"Martin?" Dave repeated.

"I-I just don't feel good." Was the last sentence Martin was capable of getting past his lips before everything turned black.
~~~~~
His partner's eyes rolling to the back of his head, Alan quickly grabbed hold of his limp, lifeless body and didn't let go.

"I've got you, okay, I've got you."

As he fell to the ground, Martin's ankle became stuck in the curb, twisting and dislocating it.

He lied on the pavement, on top of Alan.

"Dave, call an ambulance." He said in a relatively calm manner despite his internal panic.

"Yep, yep." Dave responded in an instant, putting his bags down and running over to the nearest public phonebooth.

"Andy, go and put our bags back in the motel while we wait for the paramedics." Alan ordered his bandmate.

"Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?" Andy questioned, picking up the bags.

"Yeah, we've got Dave here."

"Okay, okay, see you soon."

"Bye."

Watching as Andy rushed down the street, Alan looked down at his partner. His face, although peaceful, looked so full of exhaustion and pain. His eyes would sometimes flutter open before rolling back again, as if he were fighting something deep within him.