The Eleventh Hour (FINISHED)

42 - Why couldn't he stay...?

"Ash...?" Meadow whispered, half-awake.

"Yeeees?" he said, staring down at her as she lay huddled with him on the couch.

"It hurts..." she expressed, staring down at her hand as an indication.

The blood was slowly seeping through the gauze, staining it a hideous red.

"I can't stay asleep with the pain..." she told him.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have shattered the glass in your hand," he said sarcastically, but shook his head at her glare. "Whatever, just let me see it."

She let him grasp her wrist and his fingers around it.

"Let's see," he said, lightly pressing a finger to her hands. "It's going to sting when I do this, but tell me if you feel something sharp, okay?"

She nodded numbly.

Ash stared down at her hand, pressing his thumb to different sections of the wound before something hot and burning stuck up her arm, making her whimper.

He looked down at her and sighed. "That's what I was afraid of, Meadow."

He scooped her up without another word, carrying her to the bathroom in the master bedroom and set her on the edge of the tub, running some warm water onto his hand before lightly unwrapping the gauze and tossing them.

"Mead," he said softly, "it's gonna hurt, but we got to do this, okay?"

"Okay," she responded as he took her hand and pulled it under the water.

Meadow winced when the wounds burned but settled back into herself after a moment.

"It's not that bad," she said.

"That's not the part that's going to hurt," Ash said, kneeling before the tub. "This is, just try to stay still."

He ran his thumb roughly over the wounds, making the stabbing pains shoot up her arm again and she cried out, but he only caught her wrist tighter, black locks dampening at his neck with sweat.

He continued to run his thumb along them, little specks of something glistening from the blood that streamed off her hand.

"Let me know when it stops," he told her, but kept his eyes on the wound.

After more shiny blood left her wound and disappeared into the drain, the pain started fading-slowly-but eventually it became dormant.

Ash sensed it before she could tell him and got up. "Keep it under the water." And he stepped over to the cabinet, shuffling through the contents.

Meadow pulled her hand out of the water to examine it curiously.

Why was her blood shiny? And why did it stop? What was that pain Ash was so worried about?

Then she realized.

There was still glass in her hand, he washed it out, though.

He was by her side seconds later, shaking his head when he pulled her hand into the water again. "Why don't you ever listen? You're terrible at that, you know."

She watched as he patted her hand dry before returning it to the bandages and wraps, pulling her up seconds later until he half-dragged her out of the master bedroom, Meadow partly stumbling.

They actually went to her bedroom, Ash kicked open the cracked door and pulled her in.

She left the window open a couple nights ago, and since New York was in winter currently, cold air seeped in the room, making her shiver slightly.

Before she could even understand what was happening and turn around, she was sent airborne, and she screamed in shock, arms flailing until her back met the bed, her breath coming out in a huff.

She shot up at an instant, glaring at Ash as he shut the door. "What the hell?" she said. "That was hardly kind."

"Who said I was kind?" Ash said, stepping over to the window to shut it. "Now get under the covers, you're freezing."

"Wow," she responded sharply, "so demanding. Why are you so angry? What the hell did I do to put you in this pissy mood? You were fine before I fell asleep, so something must've happene-"

Her voice cut off when he vanished and reappeared looming over her. "I said," he responded calmly, "under the covers. You're going to listen to my instructions, do you hear me?"

"I don't," she said back. "You're not my mother or my father. I'm seventeen, I can take care of myself."

He tipped his head to the side, eyeing her curiously before responded with a cold tone. "You have no idea how much danger you're in, do you, Meadow?"

She blinked. "I think I do," she said hastily. "A million assassins who are being run by a single psychopath werewolf, and they're all after me? Yeah, I know."

Ash sat beside her, shoving his hand to her chest and practically throwing her down on the bed, making her exhale a gasp.

Before she could respond, he some throws over her and walked out of the room without another word.

Why was he leaving? Why couldn't he stay?

Meadow decided to wait this mood out... Maybe she'd just stare at the ceiling for half an hour and then get up to talk to him.