"Don’t Die on Me!" [Sentence Starters]
Moving to America, Mitchell firmly left the mayhem of Bristol behind him, the unnecessary killing and the power struggle for control over the city. He knew, logically, that he should have stayed seeing as how he’d helped take down Herrick with the help of George but he couldn’t stay in such a place, not after he’d lost himself once when he’d first taken over. Instead he’d left the games to whoever so desired them because he wanted nothing to do with them.
He’d been careful, in case someone decided to come after him either in revenge for killing Herrick or to following the old traditions of becoming “king” by taking down the one who’d killed the leader before him. Mitchell never stayed in one place too long, never leaving behind a trail that could be tracked back to him, and making sure not to befriend anyone. But he’d become too comfortable in Bon Temps, stayed too long, and grown too lax.
Standing in the kitchen of his small apartment making coffee before heading off to meet Sookie at Merlotte’s, Mitchell never heard them come in. The shock of seeing Cara and Daisy as he turned around to make his way into the small living room off the kitchen gave the two women all the leverage they needed to get one up on him. His coffee cup crashed to the floor just before his body did as Daisy took him down, resting her weight on his hips as she pinned his wrists to the tiled floor by his sides. He’d struggled, tugging on his wrists, but he couldn’t struggle against Daisy when he’d been off blood since he’d left Bristol and she was nearly as old as he was.
His eyes rolled upward as he caught the flash of a movement from above him, Cara kneeling by his head with a wooden stake clasped tight in her hands, her knuckles white. "This is for Herrick," the former hospital worker spoke with a maniacal grin, "And Ivan," Daisy added in as her hands tightened around his wrists. Mitchell tried to respond, to tell them that neither of those were his fault, but all that happened was a soundless gasp as Cara brought the stake down, plunging the sharpened tip deep into his chest.
All the fight went out of him as his body slumped back against the cold linoleum as the wooden stake lodged itself into his flesh. A garbled sound left him as Daisy finally moved from astride his hips, blood trickling over his chin as bleary eyes stared up at the woman. The two said no more as they turned to exit though Daisy did turn back and deliver a swift kick to his side that had him crying out in a choked voice as pain radiated from his upper body. Then the women turned, arms around each other’s shoulders, and left as though they had just been visiting a friend.
Over time, Mitchell managed to slowly push himself toward the kitchen cabinets beneath the sink, half propping himself up against them. It was all he could do as even trying to grip the stake the remove it had the vampire curling over himself in agony. His arms hung limply as his sides as he focused on merely breathing while allowing his eyes to slip shut— he was only resting them.
His eyes snapped open as he heard the front door of his apartment opening, groaning lowly as he tried to sit up. It was a relief when it was only Sookie who walked into the kitchen, the vampire fearing that Cara and Daisy had returned to make sure they’d actually killed him. The look of horror on the woman’s face had him questioning whether he was thankful she was there or not.
She was at his side in moments, her hands hovering over him and moving frantically as though she wanted to touch him but was unsure where she could put her hands so as not to hurt him. “It’s okay,” he told her softly, trying to keep her calm. It wasn’t the first time he’d taken a stake to the chest but he wasn’t about to tell the blonde that lest he make her worry more. Yes it was excruciating but Cara had managed to miss his heart by some stroke of luck.
"Sookie," he tried saying her name as her eyes continued darting over his body, taking in the stake still protruding from his chest and the blood that had spilled from the wound to form a small pool around his body, "Sookie!" His face contorted into a wince as her spoke loudly and forcefully to grab her attention, the pain worth it as her gaze finally snapped to his face.
"What do I do?" Sookie asked, her voice barely a whisper as she finally laid a hand on his bicep, her fingers digging lightly into the muscle.
"I need ya to pull it out," he told her bluntly because there wasn’t a need to sugar coat the truth and he also wanted the foreign object out of his body so he could begin to heal at least a little. He could see the anxiousness portrayed on her features. "It’s gonna be messy," he told her honestly, his brown hues slipping closed once more, "But jus’ think o’ it like a band aid yeah? Jus’… grab it an’ pull."
Mitchell clenched his jaw as he felt the wooden shaft move within his flesh as she shakily wrapped her hand around it. He nodded jerkily to tell her he was ready. “Jus’ do it,” he told her softly only to scream as she jerked the stake free, his back arching weakly as pain seared along his nerve endings.
"Mitchell! Mitchell!"Sookie was shouting his name as she shook his shoulders causing the older man to groan in pain— he must has blacked out for a few moments if she was this panicked.
"Thanks," he slurred as his eye lids fluttered open to mere slits as he stared up at her, offering her a grateful smile before his eye slid shut once more.
"Hang in there, please," the human begged him as the vampire felt himself being gingerly moved from his reclining position against the kitchen cabinets, his head resting in her lap as her fingers carded through his curled locks.
He wanted to reassure her that he’d be fine now that the stake was removed but he was so tired. Mitchell knew he’d need to feed when he woke up but even the thought of moving seemed taxing. Still, he slowly moved his hand up to lightly circle her wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it fall back to the floor. It wasn’t long before his breathing evened out, drifting off to sleep in an effort to at least replenish a fraction of his strength and energy for what he knew he’d have to do when he awoke.
