Return ➵ McCall [DISC.]

21; Unbearable

Claire let out a soft moan as she came to, her head throbbing and vision blurred. She brought her hand to the back of her head where the pain seemed to originate, but thankfully found no blood. The opposite could be said for her leg.

She let out a sob when she saw the Chinese ring dagger lodged in her thigh. It wasn't too deep, but enough to send a message.

She bit down on her cheek as she wrapped her hands around it, letting out a small whimper.

"One, two," She grunted, swallowing hard. When she uttered a pained 'three' she pulled it out, a low moan following. Her eyes swam with tears as she looked around, realizing she was in a janitors closet. She eyes found a bottle of rubbing alcohol on one of the lower shelves, her bloody hands dropping the dagger and reaching for it. She unscrewed the lid with trembling fingers and slowly poured the clear liquid onto the fresh wound, screaming into her fist as it sterilized.

She dropped the bottle as tears ran down her cheek, not caring as it poured along the floor. Her hands found the hem of her shirt, ripping off a strip and tying it around her leg tightly. Gripping one of the shelves, she pulled herself up, balancing out her weight as she pulled on the door knob.

Locked.

Her eyes scanned the tiny closet, finally landing on an old shovel, the metal slightly rusted. It came apart easily, the wood waterlogged and worn down. She gripped the metal, trying to focus on how it dug into her palms instead of her blood soaked thigh.

She raised it over her head, crying out as she slammed the pointed part into the door knob repeatedly. After a few minutes of constant hitting, the knob came clean off, the girl letting out a surprised laugh as the dropped the head of the shovel. The rust had cut her hand, but she didn't care.

She had to warn Scott.

She grabbed the shovel handle, ramming it through the hole until the other knob popped out, then using her body to shove it open.

She let out another laugh, using the wall as leverage while she limped down the hall, headed towards the library.

When she stepped through the doors, it felt like the wind had knocked out of her, tears welling in her eyes. Mason looked up, his throat closing up when he saw her.

"Claire, I'm sorry, he-" She shook her head frantically, pushing off one of the flipped tables and making her way towards them. Mason jumped to help her when she fell to her knees, unable to support her own weight as she cried out.

"No." She sobbed, pushing him away. Her thigh was forgotten as she dragged herself over, shaking hands touching his face. "No, no Scott. Scott, come on."

Her pleas got no response as she held his face, thumbs brushing at the drying blood. She let out another choked sob as she realized his chest wasn't rising and falling, feeling a cracking sensation in her own.

In the past few weeks, she had been paralyzed, thrown into walls, betrayed, almost drained of blood. She had been nearly choked to death and stabbed, but it didn't even come close to this.

Nothing could compare to the unbearable pain she felt when she screamed, lungs burning as she buried her face in Scott's chest, her hands gripping his shirt.

Mason's eyes fell shut, unable to watch the scene any longer, her sobs and wails echoing off of the walls and chilling him to the core. The only thing that got him to open his eyes were the pounding footsteps of Melissa McCall as she ran through the door.