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[personal profile] tyrror
Title: Save Yourself
Author: Tyrror
Pairing: Damian Wayne/Colin Wilkes
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes odds are impossible. Sometimes, you do the only thing you can to make sure you don't die with regrets.


He could no longer feel his left leg and the sensation of his own blood pouring between his fingers was something he hadn’t experienced since he knew what his father’s face actually looked like. That was a fact he was also regretting as he pulled his hand back and examined the wound only to grimaced and reapply the pressure twofold. 
 
“Go.” He whispered to the other boy, his voice like the rasp of metal on flesh and filled with the taste of copper when he swallowed again.
 
Startled, white eyes stared at him as his hands paused in what they both knew was a futile search for first aid supplies that weren’t there. The other boy dropped the pouch he had been searching through, his face falling stone-hard and determined as the meaning of the words finally slipped into the sleep-deprived and barely conscious remainder of his mind.
 
“No,” he responded firmly after some time, “We wait for you to stabilize then we make our escape as planned.”
 
The redhead coughed without warning, specks of blood decorating the inside of his raised palm where he hid them from his companion. Regaining his breath was harder than he thought it should be, but he assumed that ‘harder’ would be normal for a time at the very least. There was a strange heat running along his side, cutting through the muscle and skin in a line from shoulder to hip where he was completely certain he had not been struck, but his body begged to differ none the less.
 
“By the time I’ve done that we’ll both be full of bullets, you should just leave.”
 
His words were harsher, short breaths and little wind to speak. For a faint moment he wondered if this is what normal people felt like when they were severely injured.
 
“Nonsense,” the other boy spat, looking away, “You heal fast.”
 
Frustrated and tired, oh so tired, he heaved himself forward on the arm which wasn’t pressing into his abdomen and yelled as best he could…which was not bery well.
 
“Abuse heals fast!”
 
For a moment there was silence, the sound of his voice echoing off empty tunnels and water dripping into shallow puddles.
 
“And he gave up an hour ago…”
 
He met blue eyes shielded by white lenses, a sad smile on his face when the other boy started to open his mouth but he spoke first.
 
“Go. I’ll hold them off, save yourself.”
 
Cold leather closed over his hand where he attempted to hold himself up on a shaky arm. Slowly it’s partner came up to rest on his shoulder, his light form twisted and forced back against the wall he had been using as support earlier.
 
“No,” he heard as the other boy stood and stared off into the sound of approaching footsteps. “I’ll hold them off, you save yourself.”
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tyrror

December 2012

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