Shattered Heart, A Rainbow Six Story

Chapter 10

                                                                               3 A.M. Hereford Base

                                                                                  (Y/N)'s POV

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! I repeatedly drive my fist into the punching bag, doing my best to work this anger out of my system. I couldn't sleep, so I quietly climbed out of bed and left for the gym, taking care not to wake Tina. BAM! My mind wanders as I continue to punish the punching bag, and despite my best efforts, my mind turns to Adrien. Suddenly I see him standing next to me, watching me train. He smirks:

Adrien-"Your form is too stiff frere. Loosen up. You'll break your arm again."

(Y/N)-"You're not even real. You're an illusion."

Adrien smiles:

Adrien-"What of it? I can still be smarter than you. Always was."

(Y/N)-"What do you want Adrien?"

Adrien-"Why so cold mon amie? Are you not happy to see me?"

(Y/N)-"No, not right now I'm not. I just failed to catch the man responsible for your death, you really think that I want to see you as a reminder of that failure?"

Adrien-"But you never lost the man responsible for my death."

I pause for a moment, then resume hitting the bag, only much harder now.

(Y/N)-"Shut up."

Adrien-"The man responsible for my death is right here with us."

(Y/N)-"Shut up!"

Adrien-"You are responsible for my death."

(Y/N)-"I SAID SHUT UP!"

CRACK! I drill my fist into the punching bag with every last ounce of power I have, and the hook it's hanging from snaps, sending the bag flying clear across the room. I breathe heavily, and look down. My hands are torn, bruised, and cut from spending almost an hour hitting the punching bag without having wrapped them. A single tear slides silently down my cheek.

                                                                         5 Minutes Earlier

                                                                           Tina's POV

I wake with a shiver. It's so cold in here. I reach my arm out to pull myself closer to (Y/N), and my hand grabs at thin air. My eyes snap open, and I bolt upright. He's gone. I look to the bottom of the bed, and find Whiskey still snoring soundly. I let out a breathe I didn't know I was holding. He didn't leave. Not without his dog. I climb out of bed, and throw on one of (Y/N)'s t-shirts, then leave the dorm, heading for the gym. I'm sure I'll find him there, though I'm not sure why. Sure enough, as I turn down the hall, I hear the steady BAM! of someone hitting the punching bag. I enter the gym to see (Y/N) slamming his fists into the punching bag, the force of his blows sending shock waves through the bag. My cheeks redden as I realize that he's shirtless, and I lean against the door frame, drinking in the sight of his lean, prominent muscles. I blush harder as I imagine running my hands over his back, feeling those powerful muscles under my fingertips.

(Y/N)-"I SAID SHUT UP!"

I'm suddenly pulled back to reality as (Y/N) hammers a punch into the bag so hard that he sends it across the room. He looks down, breathing heavily, and I realize that it's not at all from the workout. I cross the room, and gently rest my hand on his shoulder. He turns, and I see his eyes full of pain and tears, and I slowly pull him into a hug. Tremors rack his body as he sobs uncontrollably against me, and I'm viciously reminded of how helpless I am to help ease his pain. It kills me to know that (Y/N) spends his every waking moment in utter agony, and knowing that there's nothing I can do to make it any easier for him. I feel his breathing start to even out, and I pull away and look at him.