Badboy and the emo reunite (BXB)

Chapter 20 how they met

From our first meeting, to now, nothing about him and I together was considered safe. I always think about what he was doing down in the city like that, and why he thought it would ever be okay to bring a bleeding-out stranger to his house. He's lucky it was me and not anyone who would hurt him.

"Z get back here!" Ginger yells at me.

I didn't listen, I ran towards the guy not wanting to fail this mission. He liked to run, not fight, he was a weakling on the inside. I'm too far from the group now, it'll be hard for them to find me if anything happens.

He turns a sharp corner, I do as well. I feel something sharp pushing into my side, and as I'm still turning I feel it being moved inside of me. I yell and look down seeing a knife inside my side, I look up and see the guy backing away with fear in his eyes. I feel myself bleeding, a lot, and the pain is unbearable. But, I still pull out the knife, and body slam him into the wall. His hands go up, my new knife goes forward, and I stab him through the hand. I yank it out and he runs away, I try to run after but I can't run anymore.

I hold onto my side with both hands and slowly make my way closer to the street for the guys to find me. I see a car coming by, it slows as it sees me, I panic and try to step back but I can't walk anymore. Someone jumps out and runs towards me, phone in hand.

"Don't call anyone," I manage to say before I'm out.

I wake up eventually, in an area I've never been, leaning against a tree in a flower field. This feels like a dream, like I'm dead and this is heaven, but I still feel pain and I don't see my family, and it's dark, so I know it's not. I try to stand but I can't, so I lay my head back, keeping pressure on it. I'm going to bleed out, I have to stop this bleeding somehow but I feel like I can barely move.

But, a boy came over, a boy who looked slightly younger than me, maybe 15. Short, with buzzed blond hair, a first aid kit, and light in hand.

I try to push him away but to no avail does he move, "leave."

"Do you really wanna bleed to death or do you want to stop protesting and let me help you live?"

I take my hand away and he nods, and I'm pretty sure I heard a "that's what I thought". He turns on the light and before he can point out at my face I stop him and point it down at my side. "Can I at least know your name?"

I stay silent, but figure it would be okay to use my work nickname for moments like this. So, I said my name is Z. He questioned what I was doing that night, and I didn't answer that one. I punched and clawed at the dirt as he cleaned it, taking my tie into my mouth so I could bite it instead of yelling. When he stopped cleaning I was already so drained of everything I felt like I was going to pass out.

"Keep your eyes open," I look down at my savior, the young teen, who could be my age. "I know you're tired, but that could be because of blood loss, meaning it could be dangerous for you to fall asleep, and I don't have the right stuff to help you, why can't I just take you to an actual doctor?"

I ignore him, "What's your name?"

He thinks for a second, "S," he smiles.

I want to roll my eyes, smile, or laugh. I go for a small smile. The kids a smart ass, but I find that funny.

"I don't have anything for internal bleeding, god I hope you aren't internally bleeding. It's really deep. All I can do is take care of the outside."

"Okay S, where'd you learn to sew up a human?"

"Where'd you learn to get cut up like a piece of paper, Z?"

I whistle out, "sarcasm, I like that, S."

"Just shut for a minute while I do this?"

"I'm bad at following directions," I shrug. "So, how'd you learn to sew people? Got some criminals for parents? Forcing you to be a doctor or something?"

"They want me to be a doctor, make good money."

"What do you want to do?"

He pauses. "I want to be an artist."

I laugh lightly.

"Do you want me to fuck up the stitches? Stop moving! Also, what's wrong with being an artist? What do you want to do Mr. I almost died in a fucking alley?"

I run my free hand through my hair.

"I'd rather be doing anything other than what I'm doing now."

"Then why aren't you doing anything other than this?"

"My my, full of questions are we? You interested in me?"

He stops talking, and the hand in my hair goes to his head, rubbing at the spikes that flick along your fingers, tickling you.

"Don't worry about it, the talking is helping with the pain. You're to kind kid. Never get involved with the streets. Next time, keep driving, you don't know who you're gonna pick up, what they do for a living, how fucked their life is... god I wish I had some whiskey. Hell, even a beer," I groan out, wanting to drown myself in alcohol to forget all this happened. "What I mean is, thank you I guess. God, I can't believe I'm doing this sober. Thank you, kid, for saving me, and not calling the cops on me. If you did I'd for sure be dead meat."

My eyes start getting heavy, my hand falls from the kid's head.

"Thank you, S, for saving me. Just, let me sleep a little. I'll wake up, I promise."

And like that, I felt like my soul left my body. I had no clue how long I was sleeping, but I woke up on the opposite side of the tree, it was daylight out. I checked my phone, at 5 pm. I cursed to myself and crawled my way away from the house. When I was far from the sight I got up and walked, and walked and walked, all through a forest. I didn't know where I was going so I kept going straight. Eventually, I came across a road, I stayed out of sight and walked to the end of the road, finding a street sign. I called Ethan, and he picked me up and took me straight to his family's doctor.

I'll never forget that kid, S, who saved my life by being stupid and reckless. He reminds me of myself.