Eddie Thawne (
causational) wrote in
riverviewlogs2018-04-15 03:55 pm
Entry tags:
[semi-open] hurry up now, i need a miracle
who: eddie thawne & semi-open
what: Eddie gets caught in a shoot-out and goes to the hospital
when: April 15 and afterward
where: around the quarantine
warnings: gun violence, blood, serious injury
✪ the incident
what: Eddie gets caught in a shoot-out and goes to the hospital
when: April 15 and afterward
where: around the quarantine
warnings: gun violence, blood, serious injury
✪ the incident
[It started like any other day, kissing Cisco good-bye while he sleeps in, heading off to work in his patrol car while eating a piece of toast, packed lunch beside him, dressed in his usual neatly-pressed three-piece suit. Nothing particularly notable is supposed to be happening, mostly, he intends to do paperwork and research on an ongoing case, to interview a few suspects. And that's what he does.
Until it hits just after noon and he eats lunch while checking his phone, sends off a quick series of texts to Cisco, smiling at the camera while he chews his sandwich. That's when the call comes over the radio, about a car chase downtown, that two officers are down and they need backup. Glancing around, Eddie notices that the station is close to empty and the call isn't too far away, so he buckles up his gun belt and heads out. The chase is short before the car careens into the side of a skyscraper, there's smoke and flame everywhere, and Eddie drives his car up to join the line of cars being used as cover while one of the perpetrators shoots bolts of electricity at the line of police officers, and another uses an old-fashioned gun.
Everything is a blur of adrenaline and fear and focus, Eddie draws his gun, he uses his powers to shield over and over to protect his fellow officers, and when a couple of the officers at the front get hit with a burst of electricity, tumbling to the ground, Eddie bolts out without thinking. It seems to happen in slow motion - the second bolt of electricity flies at him while he fights exhaustion to get his shield back up, the electricity hits the shield, and his concentration flickers. The bolt hits him hard, his body tries to absorb it, he jerks and twitches, falls to the ground, overloaded, burning hot, nose bloody.
It takes a moment to start moving again, he becomes aware that one of the officers is still down while the other staggers back to the line of cars. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he coughs out a mouthful of blood, and starts to stand.
And then the bullet hits him in the side.
For a moment, everything goes still and silent. Eddie has been shot before, in the chest, he's felt the bullet penetrate his body, felt the damage it did, struggled to cling to life. But that was a choice he made, he was prepared, and this is different. It enters from the side, hits him like a hammer, knocking him over on his side. Curled up on the pavement, he struggles to breathe while the side of his shirt and suit jacket get hot and wet and the rest of him gets cold, so cold...
The last thing he sees before everything goes dark is a blurry view of the line of police officers behind him, shouting his name, shouting something he can't hear...]
OOC: Drop a starter or message me for a starter if you'd like your character to be involved in this in any way. Any of Eddie's CR (close or not) is welcome to drop a hospital visit thread in here or ask me for one!

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Until his phone rings. Not a text, not a personalized ringtone that he'd programmed in for one of his friends; just a plain, startling, standard ring. He answers it, and on the other end is a polite but busy woman working at the hospital, letting him know they'd admitted someone to the ER with him listed as their emergency contact. When she says Eddie's name, that he was admitted with a gunshot wound and is in surgery, the world shifts, becomes at once surreal, slow. She tells him the facts - that Eddie's in surgery, that the hospital is willing to contact him at this same number when there are any developments.
Cisco is overcome with the kind of detached calm that only comes in times of absolute crisis. He thanks the woman for the call, tells her that there is no need to keep in contact by phone, since he will be heading over immediately. His heart is racing, but he is quick and efficient, saving and closing up the programming he'd been working on, getting his keys and locking the workshop on the way out. He hails a cab, sits stunned in the back watching the city passing by outside the windows. It takes longer than he'd expected; traffic is a snarl of detours and honking horns. The driver, seeming embarrassed, explains: ]
No avoiding it. Big ruckus here I guess. Car chase, some idiots getting in a big shootout with the cops, like they think they're the stars of GTA: Quarantine.
[ Normally, Cisco would be delighted to meet someone who made Grand Theft Auto jokes here. But rather than acknowledge it, or engage in conversation, he just says, a little hollowly: ]
I know.
[ Cisco vaguely hears the driver asking questions, after that, but they go in one ear and out the other. He doesn't answer, just looks out at the blocked-off area as the traffic crawls by. He sees police cars, flashing lights. Smoke. It feels like a dream.
Things fade even more into a blur after that. Somehow, he navigates through it; pays for the taxi, gives Eddie's name at the front desk and is directed to a brightly-lit waiting area. It's a while before he gets a chance to flag down a harried-looking nurse and ask if there's any news about Eddie. The nurse hands the question off to someone else, who makes a call, tells Cisco that he's in surgery, and is going to be for some time.
The waiting isn't agonizing, for the most part. Agony is sharp, purposeful, simple. Instead, it is boring, and stressful, and endless. Cisco sits there for hours, stunned, mind an awful blank. Normally he can't stand idleness, has to always be chatting or reading or working on something, dreaming up some invention or design. But his brain can't focus on anything for more than a few seconds. He looks up every time he sees a nurse's legs walking by, and the hours slip away, awful in a dull, confused, horrible way.
After an eternity or two, a doctor finally comes up to Cisco, tells him that Eddie is going to make it, but that it was a close call. Things start being real again, then. The doctor explains that Eddie will be in recovery for a few more hours, that no, he isn't allowed to have visitors during that time. No, not even family or lovers. It will be a while before he's settled in a room and can have people around.
So Cisco goes back to waiting; this time, though, it's waiting with a purpose. He researches the news coverage of the incident, reading and rereading all the reports. He calls the station, grills them for every bit of information he can get. The people responsible had been taken out - small comfort - and the situation was being dealt with. All told, only one officer had died. Cisco feels a surge of intense relief, that it hadn't been Eddie. He could feel guilty about that relief, later, but for now, he is just glad it was someone else.
By the time he is allowed into the room where Eddie is resting, Cisco is feeling both jittery and exhausted. He pulls up a chair next to Eddie's bed, being quiet, not wanting to wake him up. The nurse said it still might be a little while, before Eddie is conscious. His face looks pale, against the pillows, and there are an intimidating number of machines hooked up to him, their displays all beeping away.
He can't keep it up much longer, he knows. This not feeling anything. That feeling of suspension, of unrealness, had gotten him through those first few hours. But now that everything is settling down... now that he can see Eddie's face, his stubble standing out too much because of how wan his skin is... Cisco can feel the horror of it all building up inside him, slowly. All of that horror will need to come out, sooner or later. But for now, he just sits, dully texting everyone who needs texting, giving them the basics. Eddie, shot. Eddie, going to make it. At the hospital. No idea when he's going to be released. Doing okay, thanks. No, nothing to be done to help. ]
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Everything is in flashes because he'd kept passing out, kept drifting in and out of consciousness - out when he couldn't handle the sensation like an elephant sitting on his chest while someone drives an icepick into his side coupled with the feeling of what is certainly broken ribs; in when someone shouts at him, a voice yelling for him to 'stay with us, come on.'
Stay with us.
Cisco's face flashes in his mind.
Eddie doesn't pass out after that, he forces his eyes open, he forces himself to endure, to push through, because the moment he starts drifting out, he's afraid he won't wake up, and he can't. He can't do that. This is his second chance. People need him. Cisco needs him. He doesn't sleep again until they're putting him under for surgery.
After that, he's not aware of anything, and he drifts back into consciousness bit by bit, lashes fluttering a bit, lips parting. He can hear, vaguely, the beeping and whirring of machinery, the slight shuffling of someone nearby. He can feel the dull pain, though it feels far away, his mind feels sluggish and he isn't sure if he'd be able to move if he tried, everything feels like it's hazy, like the air is thick as liquid, like being submerged in a warm tub full of water. His mouth feels dry, though, and he licks his lips, a little agitated by it.]
Nnn...
[It comes out in a sort of gurgle, rough and raspy, and his eyes flutter open, he can see a shadow beside him and turns his head a little, wincing a bit as the tube in his nose that's stuck down the back of his throat through his sinus tugs a bit.
But then he sees him. Cisco. Looking beautiful and perfect and so, so worried and tired. Eddie can't help but smile.]
Hey... [His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, swallows a few times before carrying on still smiling, muzzy and hazy.] Hey babe...
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So he notices, when Eddie begins to stir. His breathing changes, and he stirs a little in the bed. Cisco puts down his phone and waits as Eddie begins blinking, eyes opening. He sees that little brow-furrow of pain as Eddie turns his head, and he says: ]
Shh, it's okay, stay still, don't move-
[ He waits to see if Eddie will stay conscious; for a moment or two he's not certain, but then Eddie's eyes seem to focus on him, and he... smiles. Says 'hey', like they just ran into each other on the sky train. Like nothing at all has happened. Just 'hey', and the moment Cisco hears Eddie's voice, he breaks down.
Cisco hadn't realized how close he was to tears, how little it would take to crack him open. His face crumples in an instant and his breaths go shivery, hiccupy with sobs. He tries to stop, to hold himself back, but all the chaos and stress and terror of the day have built up and built up inside him. The tears spilling from his eyes are too hot, and he doesn't even bother trying to wipe them from his cheeks. He just bows his head, hair falling like a curtain around his face, as he sobs.
He wants to throw himself on the bed and hold Eddie, squeeze him so tightly that nothing in the universe could pry them apart. But he knows, had been told very sternly by doctors and nurses alike, that he isn't allowed to try to hug Eddie. That he could injure him very badly, and that Eddie's supposed to remain as still as possible. So Cisco stays where he is, hands knitted together in his lap so tightly that his knuckles are white, crying his heart out. ]
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There's nothing Eddie wants more in the world than to sit up and gather him up into his arms, hold him tight. But he can't move, that much he can tell - a little, but not that much. His hand, maybe, his legs, but not his whole torso. He can tell, in an abstract way, through the muzzy haze of drugs, that if he did that, the pain would overwhelm him, he'd probably pass out again, he's aware of the steady sharp thrum of pain in his side, suspects he has broken ribs, remembers the gagging and struggle to breathe, expects something happened to his lungs. So he knows he can't move, lean forward to hug Cisco.
But there's something intensely painful about the way Cisco twists his hands together, grips them together so hard his hands go white and he cries, his head down.]
Cisco, baby, please... [His voice is raspy, his breath stutters and he manages to restrain himself from coughing.] Baby please, please don't worry. Baby, please, hold my hand. I'm gonna be fine, I'm sorry you worried so much.
[He tries, then, to slide his hand over, toward the edge of the bed. It's hard work, it feels like trying to slide his hand through molasses, he feels uncoordinated and wrong and it pulls at his IV, but he moves it anyway. Because he needs this. He needs to touch Cisco.]
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When Eddie talks, calls him 'baby' over and over like that, telling him not to worry, apologizing, Cisco makes a small whimpering noise of protest, shaking his head. It's all wrong.
But he relaxes his grip, reaches out to take Eddie's hand between his own. It feels colder than it should, although some of that must be just his imagination. Cisco holds Eddie's hand so gently, as if it were made out of tissue paper. He doesn't want to upset the IV, doesn't want to hurt Eddie any more than he already has been.
Cisco's voice is cracked when he manages to say: ]
I thought-
[ He doesn't finish that sentence. But then, does he really need to? They both must know what he'd thought. He'd thought Eddie would die, be gone forever. Scooting his chair closer, Cisco curls forward, letting his forehead come down to touch Eddie's hand, careful not to jostle the IV. His back continues to shake with sobs, horrible and strangely childish in their utter sincerity.
How could Eddie tell him not to worry? This wasn't some phantom conjured up by his paranoia, his overactive imagination. Eddie had almost died. Eddie so easily could have died, and today would have been different - the rest of Cisco's life would have been irrevocably different. ]
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Physical wounding, in Eddie's opinion, is much less painful than emotional, especially with someone like Cisco, who is so gentle, so kind.
When Cisco takes his hand, he shifts it, turns it and curls his fingers around Cisco's, holding his hand and then, when Cisco leans down and rests his head against Eddie's hand, he curls his fingers, strokes them against Cisco's warm skin.]
I know baby, I know. I'm not... [He takes a breath and it's hitched and painful, he squeezes his eyes shut and keeps speaking, voice a little raspy.] I'm not going anywhere, Cisco. Okay? I'm not going to leave you.
[Exhaling again, he wrinkles his nose, turns his head a bit more.]
I love you so much. I want... [Another slightly pained breath, but he smiles, and the smile is obvious in the tone of his voice.] I want to hold you.
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The torrent of emotion is beginning to ease up, however, and Cisco manages to catch his breath, hiccupy and shuddery though it still is. He sniffles, kissing Eddie's hand before sitting up again, face wet with tears and rather red. He keeps Eddie's hand between his own, and says, croakily: ]
I love you. I wish I could, but I can't, 'cause... if I d-did the doc would k-kill me and that would just be way too ironic.
[ Cisco laughs, only it's still mostly a sob; he wipes his cheeks on the sleeve of his shirt, not caring one bit about manners right now. Eddie's hand is in his, moving a little - not much, but just enough to show he's really there, really alive. It's not the same as holding Eddie would be, but it is better than nothing.
Swallowing, Cisco sighs, a long, deliberate exhale. ]
It was really close, Eddie. You got hurt really bad.
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But he isn't going to sleep.
When Cisco catches his breath and rubs at his eyes, kisses his hand, Eddie smiles again, eyes following his boyfriend as he speaks and says that he wishes Eddie could hold him. Licking his lips, he tilts his head back a bit, makes a slight face at the tug of the tube down his throat, and speaks, voice a little croaky still (he's thirsty, but that doesn't matter right now, and he has no desire to actually drink).]
Could you...would it be uncomfortable to put your head beside mine? On the pillow?
[Pouting a little, he looks up at Cisco's face, studying it, and when Cisco says that, that it was really close, something surfaces in his hazy mind.]
Mmm, it wasn't close. Maybe at first. But then someone said 'stay with me' and I saw your face, and then I didn't pass out again. Not until they put me under. I wanted to see you, Cisco.
[It's simple, probably stupid, phrased horribly, but Eddie knows, in the deepest part of himself, that Cisco had been what motivated him to fight.]
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No, it wouldn't. As long as you promise to stay still, and don't try to move your body, okay?
[ He moves the chair, pulling it up as close to the bed as possible, and then arranges himself on it in such a way that he can lean over and rest his head on the pillow beside Eddie's, their temples touching. It takes a little while - some arranging of Cisco's limbs, some avoidance of tubes and machines, but they get there, and Cisco closes his eyes. His voice is raw and emotional again, another couple tears slipping out from his closed eyes, as he whispers again, just for good measure: ]
I love you.
[ If Eddie had died... if he hadn't gotten the chance to say that to him ever again...
It's too much, imagining Eddie right after he'd been hurt, being whisked off, bleeding, fighting, clinging onto life as hard as he could. Cisco feels a wave of fear, even though it's passed, even though it is all fine, now. He can't even speak for a moment, the fear that's gripped around his chest is so tight. So he just nods, a small movement that Eddie will be able to feel. ]
I'm gonna stay right here, okay? If you feel like nodding off, that's alright. They said you're gonna be groggy for a while. If you need anything I can- I can get it but, for now I'm just. I'm here, okay?
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For a moment, he vividly remembers that stifling, agonizing inability to breathe, the taste of blood. It melds together with a memory of dying under STAR Labs, and he shivers a bit, suddenly cold.
Swallowing hard, he watches as Cisco pulls the chair close to the bed, settles down and rests his head on the pillow beside Eddie's. Turning his head, he looks over at his boyfriend, and the panic fades, the fear fades under the haze of medication, and he makes a soft hum, his mouth curving into a slight smile. Rubbing his cheek just a little against the side of Cisco's head, he makes a low humming noise.]
I love you too. And...and I know you're here. I knew you would be. I really am sorry you had to worry so much, that you had to go through it alone...
[Softly, he nuzzles against Cisco again, as much as he can, cherishing the contact desperately, eyes sinking shut.]
I'm...a little thirsty, but...I can drink later. My throat...hurts from the tube. [A pause, and then, quietly.] How bad is it, really?
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It's okay, babe.
[ He isn't alone, now. That's what matters. Cisco manages a small smile, when Eddie nuzzles at him. He ought to warn him against doing it, but he'll let it slide, for now. It feels too good, being close to him, even if it's only this tiny bit. ]
I- I should call the nurse. I don't know if you're allowed to have water or if they need to take out the tube.
[ Cisco reaches up, presses the button on Eddie's bed that will summon someone to help them. His stomach sinks a little when Eddie asks, in that quiet, frightened voice how bad it was. The nurse would be able to explain better: details, what Eddie could expect by way of treatment and recovery time. But Cisco doesn't think Eddie's asking for hard medical facts. He wants to know how close the brush with death was. And Cisco knows, as hard as the answer might be, he needs to be honest with Eddie right now. ]
Bad.
[ Cisco clears his throat, softly, thinking about what details the doctor had told him. It's easy enough, to recite them back again. Eddie, and Eddie's body, and the damage that had been done to it, is all he's been thinking about all afternoon, which has seemed to stretch on for years. ]
You got shot twice in the chest. Um. Broken ribs, and the doctor said... the ribs pierced your lung on one side so they had to go in and kind of... rebuild it some. So, one of your lungs collapsed and the other one was on its way to collapsing. Plus you got electrocuted, so...
[ All of that catalogue of hurt doesn't really capture it, though. Doesn't explain the horrible, suffocating fear that has been enveloping Cisco ever since his phone rang. ]
You were in surgery for hours and hours. It was... it was close. They didn't say it, but I could see it. In their faces. The way... they were talking to me, any time I asked.
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It's a relief to hear Cisco forgive him, say it's okay, instead of just telling him there's no need to apologize or it wasn't his fault. He knows that Cisco is probably thinking it, probably thinks he's ridiculous for apologizing, but...]
Thank you.
[The gratitude is genuine. Not for the forgiveness, per se, but for not arguing with him, for letting him have the apology, for going along with it. Sighing, Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles against the side of Cisco's head again. When Cisco calls for the nurse, Eddie frowns a bit, because he doesn't want his time with Cisco interrupted...but something tells him he's going to be stuck here for a while, in this bed, and that Cisco won't be leaving him alone.
So he listens quietly while Cisco explains what had happened to him, how bad it had been, how close he'd been to death. It takes his breath away for a few moments, remembers vividly how it had felt to die before, and he shivers again, closes his eyes, ignores the pull of the tube in his throat to press his face against the side of Cisco's head.
He doesn't know what to say, but his eyes suddenly sting and he squeezes them tightly closed against the sudden rush of tears, borne of his own fear and the images in his head of Cisco sitting alone in that room, getting visits from grim doctors and nurses trying not to tell him his boyfriend was in danger of dying.]
I love you. I'm sorry.
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It's okay, baby. Shhhhh. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm here. You're gonna be okay. Nothing's gonna happen. I got you.
[ He hears the tears in Eddie's voice, stuck in his throat, when he speaks, and it breaks his heart. He reaches up, carefully running his fingertips across Eddie's cheek, brushing away a tear as it slips its way down the side of Eddie's face. A moment later, the nurse comes in, but Cisco doesn't shift a millimeter. The look that he gives her just dares her to tell him to move. ]
He says he's thirsty, and the tube hurts. Does it need to stay in now that he's awake?
[ The nurse tells them that she can remove the tube, and give Eddie a little bit water to drink - not too much, or it might make him nauseous. Cisco is forced to move a little, then, to give her room, but he gives Eddie a brief kiss on the temple before he does, and keeps holding his hand. The nurse navigates around them, adjusting the angle of Eddie's bed and helping him to drink a little water through a straw. Getting the tube out is a little harder. Cisco can tell it's painful, from the way Eddie squeezes his hand a bit tighter. His grip, even then, is still so weak.
Right at that moment, as Eddie's choking a little, right as the nurse removes the tube, Cisco feels a surge of grim satisfaction, knowing that the people who'd done this are dead. And so, when the nurse issues a reminder that Eddie needs to stay still and rest, and then bustles off, Cisco thinks to say: ]
They're both dead. The guys from the shootout. Officer Mathis didn't make it, but everybody else is alright.
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It's probably why the tears are so hard to hold back, and Cisco does exactly what Eddie had expected him to when he let his fear show, lets himself feel the overwhelming sense of dread at the close call he'd had - he gently touches Eddie's face and wipes away his tears. He speaks to him gently, he promises him that he's gonna be okay, that he's got him.]
Just...don't go anywhere, please? For now? I know you need...work and all but...just for now?
[When the nurse comes in, Eddie lets Cisco talk to her, just watching and blinking blearily, trying to follow the conversation, unable to really hear what the nurse is saying. What he does know is that Cisco managed to get him water when he was thirsty, and he's intensely grateful. It feels like the best thing he's ever had, cold and wet against the dry, sticky inside of his mouth, and he swallows as much as she'll let him. It sits cold in his stomach and he does feel a bit nauseous, but he still wishes she wouldn't have taken it away when she did.
And when she leans over, and Cisco has to move, Eddie's brows furrow a little - Cisco's hand is still in his, and he holds onto it as the nurse says that she's going to take the tube out, and then does so. It hurts, more than he'd expected, the tug deep in his already aching chest, the way it drags over his gag reflex and chokes him, makes his ribcage convulse a little, sending spikes of white-hot pain through him. When he squeezes Cisco's hand, Cisco squeezes back, and the contact feels good, he focuses on it so he can ignore the gagging and pain until the tube is gone, and afterward he's too uncomfortable to notice when the nurse leaves.
He feels a moment of intense guilt for not saying thank you to her, and at first he doesn't hear what Cisco says.]
Cisco...can you tell her thank you? I forgot to...
[And then it hits him. Officer Mathis didn't make it, the guys who attacked him are dead, and his eyes well up with tears, hot and wet, again. It's a little stupid, for that to happen, but he's feeling overwhelmed.]
What...what happened? They got shot too?
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Well. Clearly that didn't go as planned. Someone does get hurt.
She's momentarily distracted, staring when he falls again after the ringing boom of a gunshot. There's lots of gunfire, but she can swear she hears the single specific one that's dropped Eddie.
Her first instinct is to run to him, but there's still the bad guys to deal with, Eddie and others still in danger. So she follows her second instinct; revenge.
South steps out from behind her cover, endless years of training and fighting guiding her easily. It's not smart, exposing herself, but she's mad and that trumps common sense. It seems to be enough to catch the perps off guard, her pistol firing rapidly as she side-walks to Eddie.
Shots zoom past her, she wishes she had her armor but anger seems to work well enough to guard her as she shoots at them. She moves to stand over him, protective and more scared for him than she wants to let on. She just focuses on shooting until some flee, some fall. She wants to give chase, track down the survivors and rip into them. But there's Eddie, and she moves to kneel next to him instead now that the threat is gone.
"Eddie, c'mon man..." She tries to keep the fear from her voice, careful to touch him and see where he's hit.
She pulls her button up uniform shirt off, ripping the buttons to get the material off so she can ball it up and try to slow his bleeding. Fuck.
"You're okay, you're gonna be fine." She mutters to him, looking over her shoulder to yell for someone to get medical moving already.
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He can hear, in a weird, protracted sort of way, that there's still a firefight going on. Can hear someone shouting 'officer down' and knows they mean him. Can hear shouting and gunfire and some primal yell that sounds like anger and grief and pain. Sounds familiar, and he isn't sure until there's a face moving over him, blocking out the sun, and he knows the features. Just for a moment.
"South..."
He mumbles it, before she's gone, and he shifts against the pavement, wincing and gasping and gurgling while he tries to get up a shield to cover her, but the energy won't come. Eddie's aware in a far-off way that he shouldn't be moving, that he's gonna hurt himself, that she's the one protecting him right now, but he can't leave her in the line of fire.
Then it's over. The noise is mostly stopped and it's South again, yanking off her uniform shirt and wadding it up, pressing it against him. He winces, but it's mostly instinct, he can barely feel it anymore. Instead, he smiles up at her, weak and a little bloody, but genuine.
"Thanks South. I will. I'll be fine..."
Everything is a haze, but he keeps his eyes on her face, keeps himself conscious.
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"Yeah, you sure as hell better be fine. We still have some air hockey rematches to do." She says, like she's not trying to keep his blood from all bubbling out and killing him. "You're not allowed to die to get out of losing, that's cheating."
While she's uncomfortably used to losing people in every imaginable way, she really, fucking really doesn't want to lose one of her only couple of friends here.
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It's strangely reassuring, it makes him smile, just a little, lips bloody and eyes unfocused as he looks up at her.
"You're worried about me." he says, his voice rough and a little choked, and his fingers move idly, squeezing whatever part of her they can touch, "I can tell. Isn't that funny? I can tell you're worried even though you don't want me to."
For a moment, he just looks up at her, a little dazed, and he can hear the wailing sirens in the distance, of an ambulance, "Sorry. Promise I'm not gonna die."
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She's thinking about her brother, she's thinking about the blood from when he was hurt. When she let him die. When she stood there over his blood soaked body and felt an emptiness she'd never felt before.
She's thinking of Eddie too, of course. Funny, dopey Eddie who would of course get himself shot, like the stupid hero he is.
South squeezes his fingers a bit when they find her's, shaking her head and focusing on not only steadying her breathing, but making sure his chest is still moving up and down with his own breaths. The sirens are muffled behind the sound of her racing heart, the echo of hearing his words and trying her best to find something to say that isn't mushy and stupid. One of her friends is dying under her blood soaked fingertips and there's nothing she can do or say to stop it.
"You better keep that promise, I'd hate to have to find someone to do a seance and bring your ghost ass back here so I can kick it." She says as she leans down to press her forehead to his lightly, terrified he'll be cold and stiff before long.
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It's stupid. He knows he'd be missed. Cisco would miss him. South would miss him, no matter what she says. It's obvious by the way she squeezes his hand, and he wasn't lying when he said he could tell that she was worried even if she didn't want him to. Taking a shaky breath, he chastises himself, forces his energy inward to try to keep himself going until those ambulances get here.
"Yeah well..."
He starts talking, then falls quiet, blood dripping down his chin, and he wrinkles his nose.
"Oh god that tastes nasty."
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"Well you're not a vampire, of course it tastes like shit. Never had blood in your mouth before? Jeez." Her voice cracks a little despite her efforts, eyes stinging as she blinks a few times and shakes her head.
"God, you're making such a mess." She says quieter than she intends, softer, her hand moving to pull the bottom of her under shirt out a bit and wiping at his chin and lips.
"Eddie, I swear to god..." South trails off, pursing her lips together and looking around again to see how far help is. Too far- they should've been there before he was even fucking hurt, goddamn it! She should've done more. Somehow, she should've done something to prevent this.
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But it's not like that this time. He has things to fight for, and no reason to die, no reason to let himself go. This time he has Cisco, his life here, he has Shadow and his other friends and South. He has South. Who's gently stroking his hair and still cracking jokes while she looks at him like she's going to cry, and he manages a bit of a smile.
Just a little one.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to make a mess, South. Not that..."
Another cough, and a little noise of pain comes out of him, his body convulsing a bit, more blood trickling down his chin.
"...not that. Not that I ever thought...you'd mind a mess."
Looking up at her, he breathes raggedly, watching her face as he hears the sirens wailing themselves over.
"I'm not...going...to die."
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"A mess normally isn't a big deal, but on this pretty face? Just doesn't go." She says finally, trying to wipe the blood and fighting a frown as she can't wipe it nearly fast enough.
She glances up briefly but looks back down as he speaks, touching bloodied fingertips to his cheek and shaking her head.
"Nah, you're not going to die. I won't allow it." It's times like this that she wishes she felt as cocksure as she speaks.
Because the truth is, she doesn't know if he's going to live or not. She doesn't know what's going to happen from here out. She has no idea or control over the situation and it scares her more than she ever would admit. He's dying practically in her arms and all she can do is crack dumb comments and jokes and try to slow the bleeding.
But help is there, and she's ushered out of the way, hovering closer than she probably should and, yes, telling them how to do their jobs. Be careful, be quick, he's bleeding a lot, do something, anything, fucking fix it, fix it now, save him right the fuck now, he won't be the only one in the body freezer if you don't save him, heads will fucking roll, do something more, do more now. A barrage of words, her eyes not leaving his face as she at least somewhat tries not to crowd them as they get to him.
People are going to pay for this. Whole worlds are going to burn for this. She can feel the uncontrolled rage bubbling just below the fear and worry, waiting to explode out. First, she needs to make sure he's okay. She needs him to be okay. He has to be okay.
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There are things to fight for. And so he fights.
He keeps fighting even as the ambulances wail their way up and South is pulled away from him, and he can still hear her yelling and bossing people around and the flurry of medical attendants are putting the oxygen mask on him, he can feel, vaguely, the IV being put into his arm. But he focuses on South's voice, and he keeps fighting, half-awake and half-lost in pain and cold, until he can't stay awake anymore.
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She has work to do.