[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

EYES WIDE, SHALLOW BREATHS

pulses race at a quickened pace; breathing matches heart rate

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]Making the climb from his apartment's balcony to hers had seemed like a good idea... initially. Now, as he curled his fingers over her railing and struggled to lever his weight up, he couldn't recall why. It had seemed more charming than the idea of taking the stairs. Had just made sense when he was looking up at her apartment's sliding glass door, positioned directly above his, two floors away. But the stretch in his core was agonizing and, in hindsight, he'd probably have been better off making the less-flashy trek. [break][break]

"Shit, shit, shit," he mumbled, the single obscenity gathering volume as his precarious balance over the ledge became a complete loss of balance and he toppled over the other side; landing loudly and unceremoniously on his face. Rolling onto his back, Dane took quick account of his body and its various, scattered aches; panting shallow and quick with sheer exhaustion. The climb had pulled loose all the deep, dangerous wounds that he'd managed to keep half-closed with crude bandaging, and he could feel blood soaking through his wraps and clothes. [break][break]

He'd done his best to stitch the worst of them up himself. It was a stupid attempt made messy and crude by trembling, blood-slicked fingers — a far cry from Nick's neater work. And after feeling blackness threaten at the edges of his vision more than once, and barely pulling back from tipping unconsciously to his bathroom floor an equal number of times, he'd decided he needed steadier, more aware hands. Unfortunately, his options were limited. Nick hadn't answered his call. And he knew better than to ask Rabbit, whom he'd made particularly furious the last time she'd lent her healing touch. [break][break]

He'd just about accepted that there was no help to be had and pulled himself miserably to his balcony to bleed out with dignity, when he thought of Maddison. True, they didn't know each other well. Had only exchanged passing pleasantries in the halls and a couple of teases from their balconies. But they'd been nice enough for what it was. She'd been nice. Nice enough that if he blacked out in her kitchen she'd probably feel inclined to help. [break][break]

Dropping a hand to put a bit of pressure against the worst of his cuts, located just below his ribs, Dane sucked in a painful inhale and rolled back to his stomach so he could push himself to his feet and stumble to the balcony's door. When he tried the handle and it didn't budge, he chuckled weakly and dropped his forehead to the glass; resting for a moment and feeling his strength drain, little by little, with the steady trickle of warmth from his veins. [break][break]

Wouldn't it be funny, to go through all that effort and just die here? [break][break]

He could just picture Maddison, sliding open the door to take in the morning and finding him. He couldn't recall if she ever was a morning person, but he imagined her chipper and refreshed from a night of sleep, ready to tackle her day. With two cups of coffee still between her and her morning routine, her hair and teeth would be unbrushed as she pulled the glass open with one hand and raised a mug to her mouth with the other. But her first, revitalizing inhale of the chilly morning air would stutter from her lungs in choked shock, when her gaze fell to the bloody mess propped against the brick. [break][break]

Dane wondered how she would feel when the startled disbelief relented enough for her brain to run his pale, drained features through the cogs of recognition. He knew quite well that a lifeless body only half-resembled the person it'd once been; emptied husk unfamiliar and wrong in its unsettling vacancy. But it would still only take a moment for her to see past the cold, loose pull to his hollowed face and identify him. And when his name came to her tongue — or, at least, the name he'd given her and everyone else in the apartment complex — Dane wondered what sequence of thought and emotion would reflexively follow. He did not think they knew each other well enough that she would be particularly saddened by his dying. But neither could Dane imagine her entirely unaffected. [break][break]

Blinking open his tired eyes, Dane glanced sidelong at the potted flowers sitting upon a small, round table. Where did she get them? Were they a gift? Or had she bought them from a store? How long had she spent, picking them out? Did she sit at that table in the mornings? Prop her feet up on the balcony's railing and watch the sunrise; counting off the minutes she had until she just absolutely had to start getting ready? Picturing it, Dane sucked in a breath and pushed away from where he was starting to slip down the door. If he died here, and she discovered him in a few hours, there existed the possibility that the incident would ruin that morning routine for her. Some people were like that. He shook his head as he imagined Maddison unable to go on her balcony anymore because she still saw his body there even long after it'd been taken away. Sitting at her kitchen table in the mornings instead. Neglecting to water her plants, until they withered up and died. [break][break]

The number of people in Dane's life who wouldn't immediately rejoice in his passing were not numerous — a fact clearly evidenced by his lacking a clear alternative of someone else to turn to. Maddison — even if it was simply for the fact she didn't really know him — was one of those people, and he wasn't going to ruin the rest of her tranquil mornings by becoming a body to be discovered outside her window. [break][break]

Though, as Dane held himself up by propping an elbow against the glass, and rapped his knuckles against the door, he had to admit that bleeding out in her living room wouldn't be any less horrifying. Either way, he was no doubt an asshole for showing up in the middle of the night and forcing his life in her hands, but what else could he do? He wasn't a guy who could just bleed out quietly. Not without kicking up a fuss and refusing to leave everyone at peace. [break][break]

Dane knocked again, louder, and closed his eyes when he felt his knees begin to quake. "Maddie...?"

[break]

i'm feeling kinda weirdly, like the end is near me [break]
i didn't know that dying slow would make me lose my ego

Tag: Maddison Lancaster [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes! [break]
Especially if this is too dramatic lmaooo.

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;[/newclass][newclass=.lizardstripe-text a]font-size:8pt!important;font-family:Open Sans!important;[/newclass][googlefont=Open Sans][googlefont=Poppins]

[Maddison Lancaster]

Difficult to dance 'round this one
'Til you pull it out, boy

---

The day had seemed to drag on and on at work. Maddison was grateful when it was closing time, and she could be free from demanding and demeaning customers. If one more person spoke down to her today, she may have just snapped on them. She was in a terrible mood when she got off of work, so she had gone out for a drink before heading to her apartment to wind down. She had tomorrow off, and she was looking forward to a day of absolutely nothing.

When she came in the door, she dropped her brown cross body bag on the kitchen counter and opened the fridge to pull out a cold left over chicken strip. She had neglected to bring home anything for tonight. She wasn't overly hungry and had no motivation to cook or even heat anything up, so in her the cold chicken was enough to satiate her. Once it was gone she moved to the bedroom, getting undressed and just tossing her clothes in a pile by the closet door. She found a soft black long sleeve t-shirt and a pair grey pajama shorts and pulled them on before heading to the bathroom to wash her face.

As she was running the water to let it heat up and pulling out her facial cleanser, Maddie thought she heard noise but she wasn't sure what it was. She turned off the water and listened for a moment. Hearing nothing else, she assumed that she was just imagining things, or maybe a neighbor was walking around loudly in the middle of the night. She turned the water back on and pulled her hair up into a bun so she could wash her face. While she was scrubbing, she thought she heard noise again, but she assumed as before that it must just be a neighbor making a ruckus. What else would it be this time of night?

With her face washed, Maddie turned off the water and and let her hair back down, before she walked out of the bathroom. She went to the kitchen and picked up the bag she'd just tossed on the counter to hang it up instead. That's when she heard another soft noise, and it didn't sound like it was coming from a neighboring apartment this time. Without the running water muffling sound, she could hear that it seemed like it was coming from her slider, like the glass was shaking. Maddie dropped the bag back on the counter and took a step closer to the living room so she could see the slider.

There was a sheer curtain covering the sliding glass door, and Maddie wasn't sure if maybe it was just her imagination playing tricks on her or if there was a person standing there. Oh shit, what if they are breaking in? Maddie thought to herself. She froze for a second, then started rummaging through her purse for her phone.

About the time her hand hit the smooth surface of her phone, there was a knock and someone, a male voice, distinctly said her name. If they knew her, this couldn't be a random break in. But who the hell would be at her slider, especially at this time of night? Maddie flipped the living room light on and pulled open the sheer curtain, with her phone still clutched in her grip.

"Dane?" Confusion settled in on Maddie's face as she moved to open the sliding glass door to let in her neighbor from a couple floors down. They didn't know each other very well, and this was something that was really odd. Maybe he was drunk or needed help. It took a moment before Maddie even processed the fact that he was bleeding, from what looked like from more than one place. Or was it one place and just got spread around? Either way, it didn't look good.

"Oh my god, what happened? Do you need an ambulance?" Did he get robbed? Her mind was racing with possibilities of what could have happened. "You should come sit down.. I can get a towel to try to stop that bleeding." She didn't know the extent of his injuries, but she was trying to thing of all the basic first aid that Mason had taught her.

---

Tag:

Dane Wayland
Note: I'm absolutely here for the dramatics! I love it.

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

EYES WIDE, SHALLOW BREATHS

pulses race at a quickened pace; breathing matches heart rate

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]When there was no immediate reply, Dane let his forehead press against the glass of her door once more. His eyes fluttered closed and his breath slipped from his body in an attempt to chuckle (that was too quiet and shaky to be anything more than an amused wheeze). Maybe Maddison was out — it was late after all and he knew very little about her. She could be staying with someone else. Working nights. Or be curled up in bed and just sleeping like a rock. Was she a heavy sleeper?[break][break]

Before he could think too much on it — slide down her door and let himself be lulled to oblivion as he thought of all the possibilities of her life — he was startled by the glass door moving beneath him. When he blinked open his eyes and steadied himself from falling forward, the curtain had been drawn, the room beyond it filled with light, and Maddison was before him — confused, with his name slipping from her lips. [break][break]

"Oh... hey," he started, blinking rapidly despite the growing weight of his eyelids. For a sneaking second, he felt remarkably stupid and empty-headed, something he wished he could contribute entirely to the amount of blood he'd lost. Seeking her help had been a simple plan. But now, with her standing before him, he was unsure what to do. How much he could ask of her or how he really expected her to respond. [break][break]

Nick probably would have laughed at him, said something sneaky and smart, and then been happy for the opportunity to play doctor. Another Guild member would have rolled their eyes or snarled distastefully, feeling obliged to help if only for the unwarranted fear of what might happen to them if they didn't. Grace might have locked the door and closed the blinds. Or perhaps she would have helped him, all while thoroughly berating him for being reckless and incompetent. [break][break]

Maddie was an unknown, though. She had no reason to help or refuse him. But she was concerned and invited him in, and that was a start.[break][break]

Dane stepped inside wordlessly, flinching slightly at the warm light bouncing off white walls. His apartment, though similarly white-walled, was darker. As his eyes adjusted and the bout of overwhelming dizziness began to abate, he gazed about dumbly. Though he imagined her place was the same size as his, it felt smaller, with more things and decorations to keep it cozy and cluttered. She also had walls where he had none; the studio layout of his apartment allowing the space to feel open and roomier.[break][break]

His eye lingered on her small, neat couch, and he immediately decided he'd much rather sit on the floor, prop against a kitchen counter, or drag himself to her bathroom. He didn't want to ruin her nice things. Didn't want to treat her apartment like he had Leslie's. But then his gaze flit to the chair tucked under a small table directly beside them and he lowered himself into it with a grateful sigh. He slumped down, wincing as he did so, then briefly slouched forward to press his face into the back of his hand. [break][break]

"An ambulance?" His brow furrowed as he purposely picked up on her second question, saving the initial one about what happened for later. Or if she absolutely insisted on knowing. Thinking up a story to excuse his wounds would only be important if he made it through the night anyway. Hospitals were out of the question. Guild members just knew better. But he searched for a more acceptable reason for refusing. He had no health insurance? It was probably the most convenient and believable excuse. Anyone living in their neighborhood wasn't exactly rolling in dough. But it could be argued against. He knew his attackers and, despite an obvious lack of goodwill between them, he didn't want to be questioned? It was weak. And it probably wouldn't go over well if it seemed he wanted to protect dangerous people. Especially when those dangerous people were so close to her home.[break][break]

"No, no, it's not that bad," he said lightly, lips quirking as the silly lie was immediately followed by another wince he just couldn't quite hide. His head swam again and he pressed his hand hard against the laceration below his ribs; inflicting a bit of pain to keep himself from straying too far from consciousness. "It probably looks worse than it is." He didn't know if that part was true. He was sure he looked pretty bad. He was still wearing the clothes he'd dragged himself home in, soiled thoroughly with sweat and blood (much more of it his own than he was typically used to), and hanging from his biceps and forearms were the crude bandages and ripped pieces of cloth that he'd used to wrap the lacerations he'd been able to (somewhat) sew up himself. None of them had been bone deep and he'd survived worse — the scars that riddled the whole of him were a testament to the fact.[break][break]

"I've got most of them on the mend," he continued, his attempt at humor a little labored as he straightened to pull his shirt over his head and took a moment to tighten his loosening bandages. The wrap around his middle was the most pressing of the wounds and crimson glistened wetly through the white; squelched between his fingers when he returned a bit of pressure to it. "But I was feeling a bit faint and might need help with this one." [break][break]

As he let his shirt drop to the floor, he noticed the bin holding scraps of fabric tucked under the table he was seated beside. Then his gaze lifted to note the sewing supplies adorning the tabletop and his brow lifted. What sheer and dumb fucking luck did Dane Wayland have? "Do you think you could? I'm sorry for showing up so early. Thank you for letting me in."

[break]

i'm feeling kinda weirdly, like the end is near me [break]
i didn't know that dying slow would make me lose my ego

Tag: Maddison Lancaster[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Maddison Lancaster]

Difficult to dance 'round this one
'Til you pull it out, boy

---

The nonchalant tone of his greeting seemed wildly out of place as Maddie took in the shape that Dane currently was in. It looked like he had been jumped, or came out on the wrong end of a fight at the very least. Whatever it was that had actually happened, he looked like he had been through hell tonight. Maddie couldn't figure out why he had come up the fire escape, why he had come and knocked on her slider. If he thought of her, why didn't he just come up the stairs? Maybe he didn't want anyone to see him on the stairwell.. She was briefly concerned that he was being followed, but it would have taken him a long time to climb up the fire escape in this condition, so she dismissed the thought. Once he was inside the apartment, Maddie closed the slider and pulled the curtains closed, just in case.

Maddie watched as Dane looked around the living room before he sat at the table with the sewing machine set up. He downplayed his injuries when she asked about an ambulance, and she could only assume that there was some reason he didn't want her to call. She could feel that he was gifted, and she wondered if that was why he didn't want her to call for help. Maybe that was why this happened to him in the first place? She wasn't going to pry right now. He obviously needed help, and for one reason or another he was here in her apartment and she was going to do her best to render aid.

"Not that bad?" She parroted back, noting that he winced even as he said so. "I seriously doubt that." Maddie tried to keep her expression neutral as he waxed on about it looking worse than it was. He was in bad enough shape to come and seek her assistance, but now he was downplaying how badly he was hurt.

"Most...? How many wounds do you have?" She had already made up her mind to help him, but now she was wondering just how badly he was really injured. The curiosity was not long lived. Dane lifted his shirt, and Maddie could see the worst of the wounds, along with several other wounds that appeared to have been hastily bandaged already.

This would absolutely not have been what Maddie would have imagined if she had ever thought about her neighbor being inside her apartment, shirtless, in the middle of the night…

Looking over the wounds, that was a lot of blood. Maddie was suddenly extremely glad that she had grown up with a brother who liked to pick fights all the time, who grew up to be a medic. She had seen blood before. She wasn’t squeamish. But this, well, it was a lot of blood. She knew that it wasn’t a good sign that he said he had been feeling faint. She could see Dane had noticed her sewing set up, and it dawned on her what he was thinking. He wanted her to stitch him up.

”I- Um… I think I can.” Maddie slowly nodded, thinking about what all she would need. A needle, thread.. She’d have to sterilize the needle first. She didn’t have the right needles, though.. She only had sewing needles, not the curved ones that doctors used to suture wounds. And she doubted that they just used regular sewing thread. But it as what she had, it it would be better than letting him bleed out at her kitchen table, right? ”My brother.. he’s an EMT. I mean, I helped him study, and he practiced on oranges and bananas… But I never actually sutured anything…”

Mason would know what to do. He would be able to help. Maddie walked over to her bag on the counter, and rooted through for her lighter so she could sterilize a needle. She found her phone first, and pulled it out to send a quick text to Mason - Hey, you off tonight? I need you to come over if you can. Bring your first aid kit. I’m fine, just come over, k? Thanks.

”Found it..” She grasped the lighter, and pulled it out of the bag. ”Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I call an ambulance?”

---

Tag: Dane Wayland
Note: Let me know if I should change anything.

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

EYES WIDE, SHALLOW BREATHS

pulses race at a quickened pace; breathing matches heart rate

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]Showing up in the middle of the night and asking someone to save your life under questionable circumstances was... probably one of the quicker ways to get to know a person. Like being drunk and without inhibition, it forced honesty. Demanded a resolve and stripped one bare; showing what a person was made of when dressed down. Far more effective than quick 'hello's exchanged in hallways or idle small talk struck on stoops. Dane was already learning a lot about his neighbor, simply in her reaction; far more than he'd gleaned in their previous, run-of-the-mill encounters. [break][break]

Maddison wasn't terribly amused at his attempt at humor, given the severity of their situation. Neither was she squeamish, frantic, or inconsolably alarmed. On the contrary, she was quick to react; asking after his wounds, assuring him (with only a touch of uncertainty) that she could help, and explaining that she had a brother with medical experience. She turned and walked across her apartment, presumably to fetch supplies, and Dane sagged a bit, relieved that he wouldn't have to be more convincing or insistent. Wouldn't have to pout his lip, steel her hands, or placate her nerves. [break][break]

Honestly, he wasn't sure if he could at this point. [break][break]

His brain was addled, his thoughts fluttery and flimsy. As if he'd thrown himself into bed after a few days of no sleep, body and mind unable to fight off the gracious lull of unconsciousness any longer as his face hit the pillow. Had he needed to persuade or calm her, the task might have proven too troublesome — more likely he'd have given up and curled up on her couch after all. Simply fallen asleep and died. Easy as that. [break][break]

When she turned back to him, lighter in hand, his bleary gaze lifted to her face. When she asked again about an ambulance, he blinked and let a grin pull faintly at one corner of his mouth. "I'm sure, Maddie," his voice was softer, emptied of the levity he'd attempted before. Her apparent willingness and her quick rise to the task with no sniveling or required insistence was... comforting. It almost gave him leave to be a bit more honest, tentatively assured that he didn't need to make the whole thing seem less alarming than it was. [break][break]

So, when he continued, he only sounded tired. The hard part for him was over. He'd gotten himself here and knew he lacked the energy (or will) to stumble somewhere else should she refuse him. Now that it was out of his hands — now that he'd essentially passed the struggle on to her — he felt simply resigned. Whether he left in a body bag, was forced out of the apartment to bleed out in the hallway, or managed to pull through the morning achy and alive, he almost didn't care. What happened was going to happen now. [break][break]

"And no worries. You have just about as much experience as half the people that sew me up." His eyelids fluttered and he breathed a toneless chuckle. "I'm used to being Baby's First pincushion." Though the words had the potential to be humorous — and he might have accompanied them with a teasing wink some different time — they were spoken impassively. "It doesn't have to be good. Or even pretty; I'm not exactly a clean canvas. It just needs to work. Where do you want me to be?"

[break]

i'm feeling kinda weirdly, like the end is near me [break]
i didn't know that dying slow would make me lose my ego

Tag: Maddison Lancaster [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Maddison Lancaster]

Difficult to dance 'round this one
'Til you pull it out, boy

---

Every answer, almost every word Dane said, led to Maddie having many more questions. There was no time for that now, though. He was sitting at her table, bleeding out. She had to steady her nerves and just get to it if she was going to help him, to keep him from losing much more blood after already seeming to lose so much before showing up at her apartment.

Even if he did want an ambulance at this point, Maddie wasn’t sure that there would be enough time for it to get there before it was too late. ”Okay… no ambulance.” She lit the lighter, and held the needle over it until it started glowing, then she cut the flame to let it cool. The last thing that he needed was for her to burn him as well.

From the counter, Maddie heard her phone buzzing. It was always left on vibrate, so she wouldn’t forget to turn the ringer off while she was working. She glanced over and saw it was Mason trying to call her. Of course, she had probably woken him up and he was probably panicking trying to figure out what was going on. She didn’t bother to pick up the phone, she just let it buzz until it went to voicemail. She knew her brother well enough to know that he’d already be getting dressed and getting ready to head over to help,

”I should probably clean that out before I try to stitch it up.. All I have is peroxide.” She wasn’t sure if that would be the best thing to use, but it was probably better than nothing. She carefully set the needle down, trying not to contaminate it again, then quickly went into the bathroom. When she came back out, she was holding the bottle of peroxide and a couple of clean washcloths. She had also grabbed the super glue out of her bathroom medicine cabinet, something she kept there after seeing it used on a coworker's cut one time. ”Super glue can help for some of the smaller cuts…”

She remembered when one of the cooks at work had cut his finger, and instead of going to get it treated the manager just super glued it and back to work he went. He didn’t want to go to the hospital, even if it would have been covered under workers’ comp, because then they would drug test him and he knew that he would piss dirty. He smoked a lot of weed, and it wasn’t worth losing his job over a cut that they could patch up then and there. The manager knew what was going on, but also knew that all the cooks smoked, so he didn’t make a big deal about it. Super glue could help to keep the smaller cuts closed up until they healed enough on their own, at least.

”Just how often do you need stitching up?” She asked him, as she screwed the cap off of the brown rectangular bottle of peroxide. She let her eyes sweep over him, taking in scars she hadn't noticed beyond the shocking amount of blood covering him at first. She also took note of a large tattoo that seemed to wrap around from his back.

”You’re fine where you are.. But, um, this is probably going to hurt a lot.” She held the first washcloth against his skin, under the laceration. ”Tell me about that, there has to be some story..” She motioned to what she could see of the tattoo, hoping to distract him or at least give him something to focus on other than her stitching him up. She poured some of the peroxide over the wound, letting the washcloth catch the excess liquid, and waited for the bubbling to die down before picking up the needle and thread.

”Here goes…” She sucked in a small breath and held it in as she began the process of stitching his largest wound.

---

Tag: Dane Wayland
Note: Let me know for changes. Feel free to move her or whatever.

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

EYES WIDE, SHALLOW BREATHS

pulses race at a quickened pace; breathing matches heart rate

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]She agreed to no ambulance and Dane smiled weakly in thanks, lips pursing with the intention to actually voice them but failing. Across the room, he could hear her phone clattering on the countertop and saw her give it a cursory glance before ultimately choosing to ignore it. Ah. Was he ruining her night in more ways than one? Had she had plans with someone? It would be so typical of him. [break][break]

Maddie began voicing the best course of action, as if simply thinking aloud, and decided she'd need to clean his wound before anything else. Dane only nodded slowly in agreement, blinking blearily. That sounded right. She swept herself swiftly away to fetch some supplies and he blew out a shaky breath and leaned back in his seat, lifting a bloody, trembling hand to card through his sweaty hair and sniffing. His side gave a warm, oozing pulse and he pressed his hand harder against it, scoffing quietly. [break][break]

He'd almost died before. Plenty of times, really, but most seriously when he was sixteen and then again when he was twenty-five. The first time, he'd rolled a stolen car into a ravine. The feat had earned him a mouthful of dental implants, a wired jaw, and a metal plate in his skull. The second time, it'd been a fight with an opponent that clearly outmatched him. Dino had been gone for years already but Dane hadn't yet grown accustomed to his absence. Had been a little too comfortable, used to having his brother there to watch his back. Then had acted out of blind, stupid rage when the first bone-deep slash that cleaved across his shoulder blades made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't. The Gifted had left him for dead, blood pouring from his gut and body made numb by shock, snapped bones, and ruined muscle. [break][break]

This was tame in comparison, truly. But still, the wooziness, the weakness, and the detached swim to his skull all made his mind swirl at the familiarity. [break][break]

Maddie was only gone for a brief moment and when she returned with her hands full, he sat up straighter, eyes skipping absently over the things she'd gathered. When she asked how often he needed stitching up, he smiled ruefully. Wondered distantly if she was just trying to get him talking; to keep him from falling into a dangerous sleep or to distract him. Or maybe it was genuine curiosity. He imagined it was probably a mix of the two — it wasn't every day that your neighbor climbed up to your apartment in the early hours, looking like death. [break][break]

He couldn't really lie. Not when some cool, casual disregard of the notion would be horribly contradicted by not only the current state of him, but the evidence of all his previous, failed dances mottling across his body in raised welts and jagged lines. "Often." He admitted, softly and simply, not possessing the frame of mind to make his answer light or to follow it with some further justification. (And not truly desiring to. She deserved some level of truth.) [break][break]

She didn't want him to move and warned him that what she was about to do was going to hurt. He stretched a bit, offering easier access as she pressed a cloth to his side. Then he looked away. This was his least favorite part. But he couldn't help but inwardly laugh, thinking of Nick and the vodka he'd sloshed into his calf. Of Rabbit, a Guild-dedicated healer, and the many times she claimed not to have any anesthetic lying around when she reluctantly knitted his flesh back together. Most people who kept him from the grave seemed to take some sort of pleasure in making the process as uncomfortable as possible. He couldn't blame them. He earned that. [break][break]

She asked about his tattoo and then, a moment later, poured the peroxide. His toes curled in his shoes and he grit his jaw. While it hurt, the pain was remarkably more muted than with other disinfectants. Or perhaps it was muted because the whole of him already hurt. When the bubbling abated and he felt the first, familiar sting of a needle poking though his raw, ripped skin, he chuckled quietly, eyes slipping closed. A fresh sheen of sweat broke cold across his brow and he shivered. [break][break]

"There's no story. I lost a bet and committed to it." At some point, he'd decided he liked that story best. The idea of the tattoo being a stupid wager he'd made good on. Of having something ugly and twisted forced upon him and embracing it with a tipped chin — making it bigger and uglier — instead of pussying out. In a very roundabout and vague way, it wasn't far from the truth. It just hadn't been a silly bet made around challenging laughs in some noisy bar after a night of too many drinks. He hadn't been eighteen and smashed with asshole friends. He'd been eight, propped in his father's chair with Dino seated beside him, hand clasped around his little fingers in support. [break][break]

"Do you have any tattoos? Any scars? Battle wounds?" Dane asked, blinking his eyes open slowly. Moving his torso as little as possible so as to not hinder her too much, he took the tube of superglue from where she'd laid it down and unscrewed the cap. He unwrapped the bandages around his arms, wincing at the way they clung to his hot skin, and began squeezing the adhesive over his more haphazardly-sewn cuts. Pinched them closed with shaky fingers. "Tell me something about you. Anything. You're learning so much about me and we could use the distraction."



[break]

i'm feeling kinda weirdly, like the end is near me [break]
i didn't know that dying slow would make me lose my ego

Tag: Maddison Lancaster [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Maddison Lancaster]

Difficult to dance 'round this one
'Til you pull it out, boy

---

This night had certainly taken an unexpected turn. Maddie wouldn’t have imagined herself stitching up her neighbor in her wildest dreams, but it wasn’t like she was going to let him bleed out in front of her. In her apartment, even. How had he known that she’d even be able to help him? Maybe it really was just a desperate shot in the dark, and he happened to pick the right neighbor for the situation. She felt lucky that she had some knowledge of first aid, even though it wasn’t nearly as extensive as her brother’s knowledge and skill.

From the counter where her phone was still abandoned, the screen lit up and there was a brief buzzing sound again. Mason was texting, no doubt, but Maddie wasn’t going to stop what she was doing to check it. Either he’d get there in time to help, or he’d show up when she was done and she could have him look over her efforts to patch Dane up.

He needed stitches often. Maddie couldn’t begin to think of why that could be. She would ask him more about that later, but right now, it didn’t really matter what the reason was. She kept chatting, trying her best to keep him distracted from the pain of the stitching process, though there was little chance that it would actually be effective.

”Must have been some bet.” Maddie commented, unable to imagine what the bet must have been about in order to bring about such a permanent reminder for the loser.

He asked if she had any tattoos, or scars. Maddie shook her head slightly. ”No, I don’t have any tattoos. I am terrible with commitment, including just deciding to put something on my body permanently.” She had considered getting a tattoo multiple times before. Every time she thought about it, though, she couldn’t decide exactly what she wanted or where to put it. She liked the idea of getting inked, but was just too indecisive and noncommittal to actually go through with it.

”As for scars… I don’t have anything really notable. Just a small little line on my right arm.” She held up her arm briefly and pointed at a pale line that was less than an inch long and only a couple millimeters wide. She paused and watched him start gluing together some of the other cuts. He hadn't questioned the glue, so she assumed he either had experience with the method of holding wounds together, or had at least heard of it at some point. Honestly, it was a similar concept to the liquid bandages that were out now, so it wasn’t too strange to think about just using super glue.

”My brother used to fight a lot when we were growing up, and I ended up on the receiving end of one of those metal blades attached to a wooden ruler. They were aiming for my brother, but missed. Unfortunately for me, I was standing next to him, and I don’t react nearly as fast as he does.” It was nothing next to all the scars she could see on Dane, but it was the only one that she had that really had a story along with it. The bigger truth in Maddie’s story was that they missed Mason because of his gift, and he easily dodged the attack before realizing that they would hit his sister when they missed him. ”As you can see, I’m pretty boring, really. There isn’t much to tell. According to my mother, I’m just wasting my life and potential. Not that I actually have any potential. She just wants grandkids and is mad that I’m not married and having babies already.”

Maddie was rambling. She knew that it was happening, and she couldn’t get herself to stop. To be fair, he did say that he wanted a distraction, so maybe he’d be entertained at the very least. She was nervous just about screwing this up and making things worse for Dane, even though it seemed like the stitches were going well enough so far, and this clearly wasn’t his first time getting stitched up in an unconventional setting, from the looks of it.

”Sorry, I ramble too much.” Maddie apologized, worrying that she was being annoying. ”I think.. I think it’s almost done.” She closed up another stitch. She could do this, she didn’t need Mason’s help. Sure, it would have made this whole process easier to have him here, but she was capable and could get this done without him.

---

Tag: Dane Wayland
Note: Let me know for changes.

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

EYES WIDE, SHALLOW BREATHS

pulses race at a quickened pace; breathing matches heart rate

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]Maddison commented that his tattoo must have been "some bet" and Dane snorted quietly, his lip tugging slightly at one corner with hollow amusement. She wasn't wrong. Then she indulged his questions, answering that she had no ink of her own before pointing out a small scar on her arm and offering the story behind it. He glanced at the faint, faded line — tiny and neat when compared to most of his own — and felt the corners of his weary eyes crinkle with further amusement. [break][break]

She focused again on the task at hand but continued to speak, mentioning her mother with a hint of exasperation. His gaze pulled slowly from her lowered arm and to her face, tipped downward and framed by attentiveness as she closed another stitch. Blinking, he tried to clear the haze from his head enough to make his usual observations. Big, green eyes. A round, youthful face in which her pouty lips fit too well. Very pretty. Somehow prettier in her determined concentration over him. [break][break]

Perhaps taking his lack of immediate response as disinterest, Maddie then apologized for rambling, and Dane looked away. "I wouldn't say it's rambling," his eyes made another cursory glance about her apartment, shifting in and out of focus while fresh, cold sweat broke across his brow. He thought over what she'd said, mouth twisting at the more negative comments she'd made about herself. "Or that you're boring." [break][break]

Finally, he had to let his eyes close; the look around, everything that tried to grab at his attention, slinging from fuzzy to clear and back to fuzzy, exacerbated the swim to his skull. He tipped his head back and sighed, rubbing his sweaty fingers into his sweatier palms. He did his best to ignore the continuous and familiar pinpricks at his side. Focused instead on the occasional, methodical press of her steadying fingers, finding that much more tolerable. [break][break]

"We're much more than what our parents want us to be. But let me make a wild guess — you're the only daughter, huh?" In some ways, he felt they had it rougher than sons. Expected to someday play nursemaid to babies. As if it were inevitable and just a matter of time. Given baby dolls to coddle and coo over when they were still babies themselves. Sometimes raised to be someone's wife before a person. Then, once they were older, expected to shelf dreams and aspirations; ambitions and desires forcibly whittled down to little more than motherhood. To put years and years of themselves on hold and shackle their whole lives to someone else's needs while their own became secondary. [break][break]

And then, of course, it became being a good enough mother. As if the cycle of expectation never ended. Just like sons and daughters, it seemed fathers didn't have it so tough. A man could bounce. It wasn't out of the ordinary. But a negligent and terrible Mom? That was simply unforgivable. And if a woman didn't want kids in the first place? Well. Something just had to be wrong with them, right? Selfish. They'd change their minds. They'd regret it one day. [break][break]

A lot of women desired it. Part of it was a very animal instinct when all was peeled back, after all. And it wasn't always a terrible and damning thing. His own mother had wanted children. And she'd always been great. Too good for Dane's father and deserving of better sons for sure. Maybe Maddison would want them too... eventually... but it was an unfair expectation. Something she shouldn't feel pressured into in any case. [break][break]

"No potential. Pah," Dane laughed quietly, smothering a bloodied hand across his face; streaking scarlet across his temples and cheeks. "Don't be so modest. You've got this place. Your own apartment. You work... a lot, I've noticed," he quirked a brow, cracking open an eye to glance sidelong at her. More than once he'd observed her late nights, walking down the sidewalk toward their apartment building. Dressed for work. Hair pulled back. Hints of exhaustion about her, visible even from his second-story balcony. He'd witnessed too, a number of times when her walk had been more stumble than steady. As if a particularly rough night had called for a dip into a bar between work and home.[break][break]

"And look, you're saving my life tonight. Who cares you're not rushing into being someone's Mommy. Fuck what everyone else wants, you're your own person. Doesn't matter what your mother thinks. Or what I think, for that matter. We don't owe ourselves to others."



[break]

i'm feeling kinda weirdly, like the end is near me [break]
i didn't know that dying slow would make me lose my ego

Tag: Maddison Lancaster [break]
Omg, this is a mess and I didn't know how to end it. So please don't [break]
hesitate to let me know if you need more to work with lmao.

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Maddison Lancaster]

Difficult to dance 'round this one
'Til you pull it out, boy

---

When he countered her statements about being boring and rambling, Maddie frowned. She was definitely rambling, but maybe he had a point that she wasn’t boring. But what she’d revealed so far felt like the boring bits. Most of her scars were things that weren’t visible. There were no lines on her skin to tell the tale of being locked in a closet for hours. There was no mark for being forgotten and left inside Walmart alone, forgotten about, when she was still too young to go to school and Mason had already entered first grade.

When she noticed his eyes closed, Maddie almost panicked, but he was still moving, and he kept talking. Okay, that was good. He wasn’t losing consciousness. At least, not yet.

”Yes, I am the only daughter. It’s just me and my brother, thankfully. My parents were not the kind of people who should have ever had kids in the first place.” Maddie was glad that they didn’t have any more children after her.

He went on, mentioning her doing it on her own, and how much she worked. She was proud of the fact that she had kept her apartment for right around ten years now. She’d never been short on the rent, never had to move in the middle of the night to avoid the landlord noticing. Hell, she’d never even made a late rent payment. She was too afraid of what would happen, what it would mean, if she couldn’t support herself.

”Well, I’m trying to save your life tonight. Let’s both hope I succeed.” She tried to make it sound light hearted, but she was concerned that she wasn’t moving fast enough, that he’d already bled too much. ”And absolutely fuck what they want. I don’t ever want to be a mom. I won’t be responsible for bringing a kid into this world and screwing them up.”

She was on the last stitch now, closing it up. Maddie could hear hurried, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and then there was a loud knock before her door swung open.

”Maddie, what happened?” Mason stood in the doorway to the apartment, clearly not knowing what to expect.

”Um, I know you said you didn’t want the paramedics, but I texted my brother.. I didn’t know if I could actually do this or not.” She bit her lip and shifted. ”But… I think it’s done now.” She turned her large green eyes towards her brother. Mason, this is my neighbor. Uh, he needed some stitches… it really couldn’t wait for you to get here.”

---

Tag: Dane Wayland
Note: Let me know for changes.

[Mason Lancaster]

Soapbox house of cards and glass so
Don't go tossin' your stones around

---

It had been a rough week. Mason was wiped. Tonight was his only night off, and he’d gone to bed a little earlier than he normally did. Max was laying at the foot of his bed, curled up against his leg, a large warm lump of dog. The buzzing from his cellphone, always left on silent, was enough to wake him from his sleep. Mason rolled over, rubbed the top of Max’s head, then grabbed his phone. One new text message, from his sister. Glancing at the time, his first assumption was that she needed a ride home, probably from a bar.

Hey, you off tonight? I need you to come over if you can. Bring your first aid kit. I’m fine, just come over, k? Thanks.

When he read the message, he bolted upright. Why would she need him to bring a first aid kit? Max made an irritated noise, but moved off the end of the bed as Mason started moving around the room. He pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxers, and grabbed the first clean t-shirt he came across. Wallet, keys, and phone were all collected. He always kept a small first aid kit in his trunk anyway, so he didn’t need to grab that. He slipped on shoes on his way to the door.

As he started his car, he clicked on Maddie’s name in his contacts. ”Come on, Maddie… Answer your damn phone.”

He waited until it went to voicemail before backing out of his driveway. It was going to take a little while to make it from his house in the Heights to her apartment in the East End. He started his drive, not bothering to follow the posted speed limits. He knew enough of the officers not to be too worried about getting a speeding ticket. Besides, he’d see them before they saw him anyway.

When he was halfway there, he got stuck at a redlight. He picked up his phone and texted Maddie. What the hell? Answer your phone or text me back. What’s going on? The light changed. Mason started driving again, hitting the send button as he was hitting the gas pedal.

Mason was getting frustrated with his sister for her lack of response. He tried to call again, shortly before pulling up in front of her apartment building. He parked quickly, and grabbed his kit. He assessed the outside, seeing that her light was on, her flimsy, gauzy curtains drawn shut. It obscured the view into her apartment, so he supposed they were good enough. He hated that she still lived here, but she was stubborn and wouldn’t accept any help from him to get a better place.

He took to the stairs, taking two at a time until he reached the top. He gave a quick knock on her door, then tried the handle. Of course it was unlocked, she hardly took safety seriously.

”Maddie, what happened?” He took in the scene in front of him, his sister standing there with a needle in hand, shirtless guy bleeding in her apartment. What the hell had she gotten herself involved in now?

Maddie explained that her neighbor had needed stitches and it clicked. She had just stitched up her neighbor. ”Oh, for the love of god.” Mason walked further into the apartment and shut the door behind him.

”Let me take a look.” He moved closer. ”I’m Mason, and I’m an EMT.” For liability reasons, he identified himself as he pulled a pair of gloves out of his bag and put them on. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

---

Let me know for any changes.

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

EYES WIDE, SHALLOW BREATHS

pulses race at a quickened pace; breathing matches heart rate

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]Dane focused more on the sound of her voice than her actual words as she affirmed his suspicions of her being an only daughter. She spoke unfavorably of her parents, claimed she would never bring children of her own into the world, and emphasized that she was attempting to save his life; not quite convinced, it seemed, that she was succeeding. Dane felt hopeful, though — or more like comfortably resigned to whatever happened — as her voice lulled him closer and closer to a pleasant, peaceful doze. [break][break]

"Your efforts are very appreciated," he mumbled, voice lined with an amusement softened by lethargy. He intended to speak more but there was a sudden, strong knock at her apartment door. At the sound, a stab of sudden suspicion forced his lips to press tight. Had she sneakily called the authorities, perhaps before she'd even let him in? Perhaps all of this — the talking and the stitching — was just to keep him there until they arrived. Wariness crept into his chest, tempered heavily by disappointment. [break][break]

He didn't have to wonder but for a moment. The door opened almost immediately following the knock and a voice called from the doorway. Maddison explained it was her brother, that she'd reached out to him in case she couldn't hack it, but Dane only marginally soothed. He cracked open an eye and glanced sidelong at her, daring to look a bit betrayed. "It is your apartment," he said tonelessly.[break][break]

Her attention turned to her brother as she quickly explained his being there and Dane let his eyelids flutter closed, concealing an eye-roll as Mason took it all in stride — approaching without hesitation and leaping right into action. Like brother, like sister. He supposed it must run in the family.[break][break]

You wanna tell me what happened?[break][break]

A half-smile — weak but somehow still wry — tugged across Dane's face. He felt his mood slide; an innate bristliness emerging beneath the weariness at this new addition. He'd been having such a pleasant time before... talking soft... bleeding out in peace. But now the energy was changed. Charged with authority, intention, and certainty. Control. Falling into an enticing slumber with a nice, pretty woman sweetly fussed about his passing was one thing; dying with a muscular, all-work-no-play professional cracking his ribs in a practiced attempt at resuscitating him was another. Ugh, the serenity of it was gone. Now if he died, he'd just die annoyed. [break][break]

"No." He retorted simply, the word sounding like half a snort as he blinked open his eyes (decidedly colder now under the haze), raised his head, and levered himself forward, trying to hide the wince that still flickered tellingly across his features. Mason edged closer, intending to look him over, but Dane pushed himself from his seat, taking the unsnipped thread and needle from Maddie's fingers with him when he stood. A little too quickly. He felt the skin around his fresh stitches tug painfully at the movement. The apartment darkened — white walls and colorful decorations spinning dangerously around him — but he steadied himself on his wobbly feet and cocked his head. After sucking in a breath and taking a moment to let the world right itself, he slowly bent to pluck his shirt from the floor. [break][break]

"Thanks and all, but there's no need, really." He started, turning to face the other man. He was too aware of the sickly, cold sweat across his brow and the way his voice sounded with the effort to keep his tone even — to make it sound more aware, awake, and less like he really wanted (or needed) to sit back down. "Your sister did great." He hadn't really looked at the stitches yet, so wasn't sure if that was true, but surely she'd done well enough to keep the majority of blood inside him. Which was enough in his books and more than he could have managed alone. "I think I'll live." He pulled the shirt over his head and shook the scatter of damp bangs from his forehead as he smoothed it down. "Thank you, Maddie." He glanced at her, then dropped his eyes to the mess that was his blood on her laminate. "And again, I'm sorry about your floor." [break][break]

"Anyway... uh," his brow crinkled, voice softening to nothing as his mind blanked. "Well, I think I'll use the door this time."



[break]

i'm feeling kinda weirdly, like the end is near me [break]
i didn't know that dying slow would make me lose my ego

Tag: Maddison Lancaster [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Maddison Lancaster]

Difficult to dance 'round this one
'Til you pull it out, boy

---

The vibe in the room seemed to shift rapidly when Mason entered the apartment. Maddie should have told Dane that she texted him, should have made it clear that she wasn’t confident enough to risk doing this on her own without having someone qualified check her work. He needed help, and he’d been adamant that she doesn’t call for an ambulance. So she thought getting Mason to come would be better than nothing, and better than going against his wishes. Maybe it had been a mistake…

Mason’s demeanor surely wasn’t helping the situation. He was immediately all business. No bedside manor. She told him Dane hadn't wanted the authorities to respond, and Mason had the brash and impersonal tone he would use if he walked up to someone bleeding out on the street. She shook her head at him and sighed.

”Okay, hold on-” She trailed off when Dane started moving, standing up before she realized he was going to do so. She felt the tug at the needle, still in her hand with the thread attached to his skin. She released it from her fingers, but maybe not quick enough. She could see him wince, and she felt guilty, like she was making it worse.

”Wait, maybe you shouldn’t get up yet. I don’t know, it might not hold…” She was nervous that the amateur stitches she’d given him wouldn’t hold, or that she would have done them wrong. He didn’t seem nearly as concerned about it as she did, but she really didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be standing yet.

He was insistent, and refused Mason’s efforts. She didn’t know what to do here, she didn’t know Dane well enough to know why he was so against Mason’s help.

”Please, at least let him check you before you go.” She didn’t think he should be unmonitored, what if he had already lost too much blood and went unconscious? What if the stitches ripped, or if there was some other complication she hadn't even considered? If he still insisted on leaving, she knew that there wasn’t anything she couldn’t stop him, but she hoped he’d accept Mason’s help.

She glanced down at the puddle that had formed on the floor. Good thing it wasn’t carpet. She looked at her hands, briefly. Also covered in his blood. Unlike her brother, she had no gloves. Hadn't even thought about them. What did it really matter? It was just blood.

”Blood can be cleaned up, it’s not a big deal. But, if you go back to your apartment.. Is there anyone there to make sure you’re okay? I mean, what if you lost too much blood already?” This wasn’t a situation she would have imagined herself in even an hour ago. She glanced at Mason, then back to Dane. She was feeling more unsettled and panicky now than she had been this whole time so far. Well, maybe aside from before she knew it was Dane at her sliding glass door and not someone breaking in. ”If he doesn’t ask any more questions, will you at least let him make sure the stitches are okay and you don’t need more of them?”

---

Dane Wayland
Let me know for changes.

[Mason Lancaster]

Soapbox house of cards and glass so
Don't go tossin' your stones around

---

Mason had so many questions running through his head. Who even was this guy, sitting in his sister’s kitchen, clearly having been in some altercation? What kind of trouble was he going to get her into? Was he putting Maddie in danger? He was familiar enough with her to be in her apartment in the middle of the night. Maybe that was just because he was the neighbor, as Maddie had stated, but Mason couldn’t keep himself from being suspicious of this guy right off the jump.

Maybe that’s why his tone was so authoritative, so demanding of compliance. It was the tone he used when he was responding to a suspect who had been tased or a combative patient. Not conductive for all situations, clearly.

”Look, man, maybe you don’t want any other help, but I’m here now. The least I can do is just check you over to make sure my sister didn’t mutilate you too badly with her do it yourself stitching job.” It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in his sister, but Mason knew Maddie had never given anyone stitches before. Outside of sewing fabric, she didn’t have any experience, and that was a completely different skill set. Ask him to sew up a body and Mason was your guy. Ask him to sew up a hole in a shirt or sew a hem in a pair of pants and he was lost.

Mason could see that his sister was getting worked up. It reminded him of when they were teenagers and she would jump in to de-escalate the sticky situations he got them into. But he hadn't gotten them into this situation. She’d texted him, with no information about what was going on. Of course he was going to be concerned. He had the drive over from his place in the Heights to get worked up with worry about her. And when he walks in, he finds some random dude in her apartment, with blood all over and his sister stitching the guy up. It wasn’t exactly a sight that put him at ease. How else was he supposed to react?

What Mason couldn’t figure out is why this guy wanted to bolt so desperately. He clearly didn’t look well enough to be getting up. Mason didn’t miss the wince that played across his face, however fleeting it was. He noticed the wobble as he stood, the sweat that was breaking out across his brow. Mason didn’t miss his sister's anxious expression either, as she looked around at the blood on the floor, the blood on her hands, and both of them. It didn’t matter what happened, she needed him to be helpful here, not to make things worse.

”I can agree to no more questions, unless they are necessary.” Mason’s tone was less harsh, less of the authoritarian he’d been emulating when he first came in. ”I’m not on duty. It’s not like any of this is official anyway. There's not gonna be any report or record of this.” He tried to be reassuring, in case the reason the guy didn't want his help had something do to with being tracked or being in the system. Mason had met a lot of people who didn't want to be in the system, and as a medic he didn't usually care what they'd done or hadn't done. That wasn't his part of the job. The main reason it concerned him now was because it may impact his sister, and Mason didn't like that thought. But it really wasn't his business, and as Maddie reminded him all the time, she was an adult and could take care of herself just fine.

---

Let me know for any changes.

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

EYES WIDE, SHALLOW BREATHS

pulses race at a quickened pace; breathing matches heart rate

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]Her apartment was too small to comfortably accommodate three people standing together in one spot. It made the walls feel closer, the hall crowded, and the exit unreachable without having to shoulder through. As soon as he'd stood, Dane felt the impulsive desire to leave slowly begin to leech from him along with his energy. He felt heavy, growing ever heavier as the pair of them stated their insistence. If he wanted to go — and wanted to make it to his bed or couch before the inevitable collapse — he would need to leave right now. Two flights of stairs would be no joke. And had he locked his door? Would he have the strength to force it open?[break][break]

Maddie's imploring came first. What if he'd lost too much blood? Was there someone who would make sure he was okay? If Mason didn't ask questions, would Dane let him at least look him over? She was becoming increasingly anxious, which Dane might have found remotely funny, were he capable of thinking much beyond the conscious effort it currently took not to sway in place. She hadn't been so worked up before, alone in her apartment with an almost-but-not-quite-complete stranger's blood slicking her fingers. Her brother's arrival should have been relieving. Reassuring and comforting. But perhaps she'd only been so calm for Dane's sake. [break][break]

It was more likely his own sudden reluctance and shift to bristliness that was making her more panicky than anything else. Distantly, he acknowledged that. And even more distantly, he knew that he — in some way — owed it to her to be more amenable. They were only trying to help him. And Maddie had done more than enough for him when she hadn't needed to.[break][break]

Of course, what she asked of him wasn't really a big ask. And it made sense, which was becoming increasingly clear the longer he stood there, growing weaker and feeling colder. He'd been too relaxed before. Contented and calm, seated as he was, lulled by soft conversation and gentle hands. But the climb up from his apartment had been taxing. The last of him. Standing and trying to reassert himself was making that obvious. But still, even as Dane suppressed a shiver, he wanted to be stubborn. Wanted to insist he was fine. To shove past them with a scoff and maybe even a loaded side-eye at Mason. But he realized, reluctantly, that it'd probably only look pathetic. Like an injured dog snarling and snapping as it limped off to find a quiet place to die. [break][break]

He chose not to answer her questions. Had she asked before, he might have been more forthcoming. Answered that, if he lost too much blood, well, he'd probably sleep for a very long while until he either woke up or didn't. And someone would check on him, sure — eventually, when he didn't respond to their beckons. Then they'd clean him up, cart him off, and life for everyone would resume as normal. He'd admit it with a quiet chuckle, amused with the notion that his dying would affect anyone at all. But he only offered a shrug of his shoulders instead, eyes flickering to Mason as he echoed his sister's insistence, making efforts to sound more reassuring and casual. [break][break]

Out of necessity more than desire, Dane reached out to steady himself on the back of the chair he'd been previously seated in. His eyelids made a slow flutter over his eyes and he swallowed. Damn it. "Yeah... okay," he lowered himself back into the seat, defeated enough that he didn't hide the visible relief that came with sinking back down or the shakiness to the long, steadying exhale he blew from his lips. He leaned sidelong to provide better access, as he'd done for Maddie before, and hiked up his shirt to allow Mason a look. He angled his own face away, gaze fixing detachedly on the sliding glass door he'd entered through. [break][break]

"Inside is okay," he started tonelessly. "I'm fairly certain I'd know if it wasn't." As much as the wound had bled, as much as the attack had cut deep, it had ultimately been more slash than stab — he knew it had done little worse than cleaved through his muscle. He knew what more damaging lacerations felt like. "I wouldn't have bothered coming up at all if it was any deeper."

[break]

i'm feeling kinda weirdly, like the end is near me [break]
i didn't know that dying slow would make me lose my ego

Tag: Maddison Lancaster [break]
BRO, I basically stitched this post together from like ten different blurbs and tried to structure it for ages. It is a hopeless WRECK and I'M SORRY if it's hard to get through lolol. TvT Give me a nudge for any changes or if you need more to work with.

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]