Rolled one~ Life is not good to Chris. callhimluckyDecember 15 2011, 10:03:44 UTC
The moment he had been cornered on his afternoon run he knew it was coming. It had happened before and Chris knew the warning signs. First the questioning of 'who are you' and such, then the mocking which stings nearly as bad as the last part. The beating. This time like the last there happened to be a knife pulled out
( ... )
poor thing ;_;lormenariDecember 15 2011, 16:41:55 UTC
Sam has been inside with his nose buried in his sketchpad for a few hours now, since before Chris left the house. He's been trying to put together a portfolio of his work, though he's not entirely sure why since he's ninety percent sure he's not going back to school. When he hears the knock at the door he glances at the clock and realizes Chris should already be back by now
( ... )
The few moments where Sam didn't open the door had Chris panicking. The door opens and he slumps forward onto Sam. Its then and only then that he lets himself cry a little. Not from pain, but from trauma.
"I-I w-w-was k-kn-knifed do-down..." He's shaking so much that he can't get the words out right. "S-S-Sammy?" He grabs onto Sam's arm and pulls himself closer. He needs to be close to Sam right now.
Sam holds him as close as he can while still putting pressure onto his wounds. "Chris, it's okay, I'm right here," he says shakily, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "An ambulance is on its way. You're safe now, okay? Don't cry... I don't want you to hurt yourself more."
He nods as his vision goes in and out. "Yeah...the s-stomach j-just bleed a-a lot. I-If I pass out then i-its j-just b-blood loss. I-It takes a-a-a long t-time t-to bleed t-t-to d-death f-from a s-s-stomach w-wound..." He moans softly. "C-Can't f-feel it."
Sam grips the back of his neck, pulling him in close. Not that Sam can actually do anything about it, but he wants to know how this even happened. He listens to him stuttering and he's suddenly worried Chris might go into shock or something, so he doesn't ask about the stabbing, wanting to distract him. "Chris, Chris, look at me, okay? Look at me..." His fingers are smudged with blood, but he strokes Chris's cheek anyway. "You're gonna be okay, I promise. I'm right here with you. You're safe. You're gonna get stitched up and everything's gonna be fine. You'll be home and I'll be bringing you hot chocolate in bed before you know it. Everything's okay, just try to breathe. Look at me... steady breaths, okay? I've got you."
Chris laughs a little but that ends up being a bad idea. "H-H-How about a s-shot of whiskey instead of h-hot chocolate...?" He groans as he shifts his place. He tries to breath in slowly but it hurts a lot to do so. "Sam..."
"You didn't let me have any alcohol that time I broke my ribs... it's payback time." He tries to smile, but the pain on Chris's face makes it impossible for him. "Okay, the breathing was a bad idea, you can stop. I mean - don't stop breathing, just... you know what I mean. The paramedics will be able to help a lot better than I can... just hang on."
He smiles just a little. "I know w-what you m-meant..." He looks at Sam. "I-I'll be f-fine, S-Sam...I-I've lived t-through t-this before...r-remember?"
He nods, a lump rising in his throat. "I know... I know." He focuses on the towels, lifting them slightly because they're soaked through. He can hear sirens faintly, and he bites his lip as he stares at the blood, feeling faint. "You're bleeding so much... I need to make it stop. How do I make it stop?"
Chris closes his eyes as he hears the sirens. "Uh...pressure. A lot of it." He reaches a shaking hand up to his neck to touch his St. Sebastian Medal, and he starts speaking a prayer.
"I'm doing that," Sam says anxiously, pressing the towel down again. He doesn't listen to the prayer because he's too focused on trying to stop the blood. Chris looks so pale, and it's scaring him. He presses down harder, afraid that he'll hurt him. "Okay, I know you're busy, but please talk to me, I'm freaking out here."
Sam nods, closing his eyes briefly as he presses a kiss to Chris's lips. He can hear the paramedics at the door. "They're gonna take care of you, okay?" He doesn't want to leave, but he tears himself away long enough to open the door, and then he hangs back, trying to catch his breath as the paramedics swarm in to treat Chris.
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"I-I w-w-was k-kn-knifed do-down..." He's shaking so much that he can't get the words out right. "S-S-Sammy?" He grabs onto Sam's arm and pulls himself closer. He needs to be close to Sam right now.
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Downstairs the paramedics burst through the door and starts running up the steps to Christoph's apartment.
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"Do you want to ride with us or not?" He's at the door.
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