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#stab me sir with your co*gunshot*
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Vincent Price -
Diary of a Madman (1963) dir. Reginald Leborg
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drades-lair · 2 years
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Can’t lose you
Striker slinked into a mine opening easily disappearing into the safety of the darkness, breath coming in heavy pants as he slipped down the rock wall leaving a streak of black blood down it. Pain racked Striker’s body as he clutched at the gun shot wound in his abdomen, tipping his head back against the stone wall to listen for the ones who’d done this. Striker wasn’t a stranger to being hurt from gun shots to stab wounds he’d endured a lot but this…something was very wrong with how he’d been shot this time. Heavy footfalls outside the mine caught Striker’s swiftly fading attention there sounded like more then what he remembered however he really couldn’t tell as his world was sinking into a muffled underwater sound. A popping sound echoed…gunshots? Where these idiots fighting with one another? Striker tried desperately to focus on the sounds, but the pain was just too intense causing him to wheeze out pained whimpers with tears beginning to prick the sides of his eyes.
 A memory sprung into his head of when he was small, he’d fallen off his first steed resulting in a badly bruised and scrapped calve. Striker could remember crying while sitting on the ground cradling his injured leg while thinking he couldn’t cry, he had to man up. Striker’s father had drilled that into him how real men don’t cry, you buck up and pull yourself up by your bootstraps. Striker huffed a laugh to himself as tears started falling down his cheeks to mingle with the dried blood from a cut above his eye. The mine’s darkness was growing darker by the moment, his limbs grew numb as the warmth of his own blood soaked every inch of his lower body. Footsteps entered the mine, yet Striker didn’t care at this point he was as good as dead anyways at least they could make it quick.
 “S…triker…!” came what sounded like a familiar voice
 Striker managed to muster up just enough strength to look up at the small figure currently crouched beside him. The familiar features of his mate’s co-worker came into blurry view, Moxxie had a very concerned look on his features then Striker felt agonizing pain as he watched Moxxie reach to where his wound was. Striker’s last conscious moment was hearing Moxxie talking on his phone.
 “Sir, I got him but it’s not good! We need a hospital immediately!” Moxxie exclaimed into the phone…was he talking to Blitz? Striker slipped into the comfort of the darkness finally finding some relief from the pain.
 …
 Blitz’s mind was racing as he pushed his shitty van to the limit after Moxxie had phoned him honestly, he’d thought the smaller imp had been exaggerating about Striker’s condition. Blitz had seen Striker take some pretty significant damage yet still get up the next day to make breakfast as if nothing had happened, his mate was durable however when he entered the mine…Blitz felt his heart sink. Striker had been soaked in blood with a puddle of it under his body but what disturbed Blitz the most were the tears running down Striker’s face. Blitz hadn’t hesitated to pick Striker up, shove him into the back of his van with Moxxie not far behind then began driving to the nearest hospital he could find. Moxxie was doing his best to keep Striker from bleeding out as they rushed in the direction of the hospital.
 “Don’t you fucking dare leave me!” Blitz whispered under his breath as his hand’s death gripped his steering wheel.
 Upon arriving at the hospital Blitz simply slid his van to a halt right outside the emergency doors, scooped Striker into his arms from the back and practically drop kicked his way into the emergency room. The staff took one look at Striker and took off to grab a gurney which Blitz gingerly lowered his bleeding mate onto only to have him taken immediately. Blitz couldn’t get the sight of Striker out of his mind not just the blood, tears were not something Striker ever showed even when he was injured by the rings of hell, he’d dislocated his shoulder during one of their jobs and barely flinched when Blitz popped it back into place for him. Blitz felt his hands shaking slightly because if Striker was shedding tears, he could only imagine the pain he’d been in.
 Unlike his mate Blitz would shed tears a little more often and right now they flowed freely down his cheeks as he slammed a fist into the stark white wall beside the coffee machine in the hospital’s waiting room. Striker’s blood still coated Blitz reminding him continuously that his mate was dying and that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. A shriek of frustration erupted from Blitz as he sunk to the cold tile floor, hands coming up to cup his face just as Moxxie rounded the corner after having left momentarily to meet Millie at the emergency room doors. Millie immediately ran over to Blitz gently pulling the taller imp into her which Blitz allowed, he needed the comfort right now considering his heart or what was left of it was being yanked from his chest. Millie rubbed comforting circles into Blitz’s shoulders as they shook with sobs, Moxxie awkwardly coming to stand nearby uncertain what to say or do for his friend.
 “I-I…can’t lose him…” Blitz sobbed into Millie’s shoulder
 “It’ll be okay…we’ll get through this, besides Striker’s one tough son of a bitch I’m sure he’ll pull through,” Millie stated to reassure Blitz
 “You didn’t…see him…or feel him…Mills…he was so cold…and he was…crying…” Blitz sobbed out
 Millie looked to Moxxie with concern laced all over her features at hearing this to which Moxxie simply nodded in confirmation.
 It seemed like an eternity of waiting before a demon emerged from the emergency room doors, he had a goat head as well as goat legs but had almost a human torso except he had pitch black skin wearing a white doctor’s coat. Blitz nearly leapt right through the ceiling as he jumped out of his seat with Millie and Moxxie following close behind.
 “Are you Blitz?” The doctor inquired of the crimson imp
 “Yes! How is he? How is Striker?” Blitz demanded
 “He’s in stable condition but critical. The bullet cut through his abdomen causing massive damage including hitting two organs. We did surgery to repair the damage but…” The doctor trailed off from his explanation.
 “But what? He’s going to be okay…right?” Blitz worriedly prompted
 “Between the blood loss and the amount of damage he’s in a coma…we’re not certain at this point if he’ll wake up,” The doctor informed Blitz solemnly
 “No,” Blitz’s voice was less then a whisper as he breathed the word out, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
 “You can see him…if you wish,” The doctor gingerly offered
 “Yes…please…I need to,” Blitz agreed trying to hold himself together
 “We’ll stay here Blitz…” Millie stated
 “Okay…” Blitz trialed off before following the doctor back
 Entering a small room Blitz felt himself pale at what he saw Striker was in the bed torso wrapped in bandages, tubes and wires seeming to be connected to him from everywhere. A monitor filled the room with the monotonous sound of beeping, Striker looked sickly pale with dark circles under his eyes just adding to that deathly image he was currently sporting. Blitz cautiously walked along side the bed, reaching his hand to cup Striker’s cheek only to wince at the coldness radiating from his mate’s body. The doctor left Blitz to be alone with Striker explaining he could stay for as long as he needed, taking advantage of that Blitz took a seat in the only chair in the room.
 …
 Striker managed to hang on for the week increasing his chances of survival in the long run, Millie had brought Blitz a change of cloths that he changed into after cleaning up a bit in the bathroom. Blitz maintained his vigil for 3 more weeks when one day he heard Striker give a groan making the crimson imp start in the otherwise quiet room. Standing from the chair where he’d been sitting Blitz hurried right along side the bed, cupping Striker’s cheek as the pale imp’s eyes started to flutter open.
 “Striker! Shit…yes!” Blitz exclaimed excitedly
 “Hmm, B-Blitz…” Striker managed to rasp out as he focused on his mate
 “Fuck yeah…it’s me…I can’t believe…” Blitz stammered looking for the words
 Striker gave a weak smile then violently jerked after shifting just a small amount, teeth gritting as his face contorted in agony. Blitz moved his hand from Striker’s cheek to his shoulder trying to steady him, Striker’s chest heaving as he tried to shove the pain down to little avail. Blitz rubbed his thumb along Striker’s shoulder as a couple tears managed to fall from the pale imp’s eyes weather, he wanted them to or not. Eventually the pain subsided a bit causing Striker to look away from his mate, cheeks flushing a dusty pink in embarrassment. Blitz gently brought his hand back to Striker’s cheek to swipe the tears there with his thumb.
 “Sorry Ya need to see this shit,” Striker apologized still refusing to look at Blitz
 “Don’t apologize…You’re in pain…it’s not your fault,” Blitz assured him
 “Still…I should just suck it up,” Striker whispered out
 “Shut up, I nearly lost you…I’d rather see a few tears then your dead body any day,” Blitz assured him
 “I thought it was over too,” Striker admitted finally locking eyes with Blitz
 “Well, it isn’t, now lay still and rest. I’m going to see if I can get the nurses to give you the good shit for the pain,” Blitz chuckled with a wink
 …
 4 long weeks in the hospital Striker finally found himself back in the small one-bedroom apartment he shared with Blitz. There was still a long road ahead of him before returning to his assassin gig but for the moment he was just happy to be home with Blitz. Stranding in the bathroom Striker stared at the large, stitched wound that spanned from his side just past his mid stomach area in a jagged form. Giving a snarl at his reflection in the mirror Striker grabbed the fresh gaze from the countertop beginning to wrap the wound when Blitz walked in behind him.
 “Want some help?” Blitz inquired
 “Sure,” Striker accepted handing off the gaze roll to Blitz.
 “How are you feeling?” Blitz asked as he expertly began to wrap the wound
 “I’m fine,” Striker stoically stated  
 “Are you sure?” Blitz asked again knowing his mate all too well
 “Ya don’t need to keep fussin’ over me,” Striker assured Blitz as he leaned forwards to place both hands on the countertop, wincing slightly as Blitz tightened the bandage.
 “Yes, I do! I nearly lost you! I…” Blitz trailed off, pulling Striker by the chin gently till he looked at him.
 “I’m sorry I worried Ya,” Striker apologized, turning to face Blitz entirely with both his hands moving from the countertop to Blitz’s hips.
 “Worried? You scared the shit out of me!” Blitz corrected, moving his hand from Striker’s chin to the back of his neck where he pulled lightly till Striker’s bowed his head slightly allowing Blitz to tap their foreheads together.
 “Humph, sorry for scarin’ Ya,” Striker corrected himself with a huffed laugh
 “You should be,” Blitz huffed almost in pouting tone
 “I love Ya Blitz,” Striker whispered
 “I love you too,” Blitz whispered back
 Blitz pulled back just enough to connect their lips in a gentle kiss which Striker returned happily. Upon parting Blitz walked with Striker into the living room where they sat on the couch to watch a movie.
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