“i can’t breathe, i can’t –”
{ hurt meme | not accepting | @lelogedelaveuve }
He should have paid better attention. This was his fault. He got overconfident, sloppy. He wasn’t protecting her well enough. It wasn’t that she needed his protection - she could handle herself just fine - but he wanted to keep her safe. And this was why.
Tucked away in a small building, safe from the fighting, Jack lowered her to the ground with all the gentleness in the world. He’d carried her bridal-style, using his enhanced speed to remove both of them from the battle. He removed his mask, throwing it to the side as he dropped to his knees and leaned over her.
“Widow- Amelie...!” He was quick to amend what he addressed her as. She may have taken on a moniker, same as he had, but Amelie was still in there somewhere. He nearly spoke again when her lips parted, choked words leaving elegant lips. She couldn’t breathe. “I... I know, don’t speak, just... try to breathe.”
He was no medic. He was no Angela. He didn’t have a clue what to do at a time like this. Dropping his jacket, he peeled his shirt off and, bunching it up, pressed it to her wound. “Hold on. I’ll... I’ll...”
You’ll what? He didn’t know. He didn’t know. Overwhelmed with fear and helplessness, Jack felt his eyes burn with the formation of tears. After everything they’d been through together since he’d joined Talon, he’d become very fond of the woman. He’d come to love her. Now... he was going to lose her.
Doubling over her, he slid a large hand beneath her head to prop it up. She was dead weight against his palm. Her eyes, normally clear and calculating were glazed over. It was as if he was watching the life leave her. “Please, Amelie, please... Stay awake. Don’t go.”
Those eyes fixed on him and he fought back tears. Shaking and horribly weak, her hand raised to his face, slender fingers pressed against his cheek almost gingerly. She clearly had no strength to speak, but her touch told him everything. He placed his hand over hers, relinquishing his tight grip on the cloth over her wound. He shut his eyes tight. He didn’t have to see to know she was fading. He knew she was gone when he felt the trace amounts of strength leave her arm, his own hand now the only thing keeping hers raised.
It took some time for him to open his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see what was left of the woman he loved. More of a shell than she’d ever been. But when he saw the soft lines of her face, the peace in her eyes, what he might have imagined as a smile on her lips... She wasn’t a weapon. She wasn’t a monster. Amelie was free.
