TW- swearing, violence
Song: Home II
Artist: Dotan
Layla's pov:
"How's the leg?" Zeke asked me, pushing the wheelchair (that I hated so much) up to the control room. I was doing a few shifts up there and covering for the staff that were off ill or on leave. I rolled my eyes and sat back, crossing my arms as I did so. I was weak.
"How do you think?" I rhetorically answered him, "The mission was a failure and we ended up loosing nine men to the fucking factionless!" I whisper-shouted at Zeke.
He stopped pushing me and walked around to the front of me, "What now, Ezekiel?" I huffed.
"Why is it so hard for you to stop blaming yourself?"
Because my team, my responsibility.
When I ignored him, he sighed and gave up on me. "We should get there before we're late." He told me, I nodded.
Four was there with a team of initiates, I ordered Zeke to put me at the back of the room- so there was a less likely chance of any of them noticing me. They couldn't see me weak and injured or even in this state. I was there leader, I needed to act powerful and strong. But right now, I was neither one of them.
"Thanks Zeke." He smiled, sitting at his desk which was surprisingly next to mine. I hadn't been in the control room in so long that I had forgotten where everyone sits and even who works here. "Sorry about before, I think it's the meds making me a bit more irritated than usual." I apologised, he laughed it off and I sent him a scowl.
"It doesn't matter, Layla. It's fine." He said, typing his password into his computer, "Erudite have installed new PC's so if you need help turning them on just ask someone." He smirked at me. I wasn't that stupid.
"Oh come on, Zeke. I'm not that much of a grandma." I chuckled, as he burst out laughing causing Four to notice. And approach the two of us.
It had been just under a month since the incident and my team still hadn't been found yet. This was probably the first time I had seen Four since then- I felt like he'd been avoiding me. Good, he better. Jeanine had taught me how to inject my meds myself, so that my father could finally leave and never bother me again. This meant that my leg had partially healed: the bone in my shin had begun to reform itself, but unfortunately my raw, teared-up skin was still an eyesore without any gauze on it.
Four approached us, walking at a faster pace than he usually did. He stood in between Zeke and I with his arms folded. "Traitor." I muttered under my breath. From the corner of my eye, I saw Zeke look at me with utter confusion and the rage behind Four's eyes.
'What did you just call me?" He abruptly called me out. This made me snap, HE was the reason that nine members of my team had been captured and taken hostage by Factionless, whilst the other three fought for their lives in the infirmary. He was the reason. He was the rat.
Before I could comprehend what he was saying to me, I leaped up from the chair and pushed Four's body against the cold wall, "Traitor! How fucking dare you?" I yelled in his face, pushing myself on as intense pain shot through my leg like lightning in a stormy sky. He tried to push me off, but I was stronger than the former stiff- I always had been.
"I have no idea what you're talking about Layla, I think your medication is messing with your head." I threw him towards the direction of the floor and fell on top of him. Landing punch after punch onto his face, as everyone else in the room froze and watched in horror at the scene unfolding in front of them. Blood oozed from his: chin, mouth, nose and the rest of his face, I heard the fast pace of footsteps increasing outside of the door.
"Layla, hands up! Stop what you're doing right now!" Max's voice boomed through the room, causing me to pause and rethink my actions. As I placed my hands above my head, Max put down his gun that I hadn't noticed he was holding and came closer to the two of us. I visually cringed at the pain as I felt myself being shoved harmfully against the floor.
"Fuck." I moaned, as the figure above me dug their fingers into my throat- not allowing me to breathe. I gasped and hit the hand holding me down, but it was too late. I was already incredibly weaker than I had started out being and I was convinced that someone had ripped off the skin of my leg again. The pain was excruciating now.
"Someone get Eric into the control room asap!" Max yelled through his radio, pulling Four off of my body.
"What did Four do?" Zeke asked me, taking a place next to me on the floor- and checking my leg which was bleeding out back into the clean floor. "I mean, come in it's Four! He couldn't harm a fly."
"I'm going to kill him." I muttered, trying to stand back up without help.
"Layla no. Stay down." Max said approaching us again. I rolled my head back, finding it difficult to stay awake from the agonising pain that was engulfing my leg like fire to gasoline.
My vision blurred as I tried to stand for the second time and felt myself fall a few centimetres backwards. "I've got you, baby." Eric's voice whispered in my ear. I smiled, happy to see him.
"You came?" I asked, entwining our hands together.
"Of course I came. I'm always cleaning up your messes." He joked, placing me back down in the hideous wheelchair. "We're leaving now." Eric sternly told Max, pushing me out of the room.
"Eric-" He warned, but Eric sent him a look so Max put his hands up- surrendering his place in this current conversation.
Once we were back in the apartment, my husband helped me to sit onto the couch in the corner of the room. I winced from the rippling pain that was still stinging and throbbing through my leg and higher foot. "I'll get the painkillers." He said, leaving the room for a split second before returning with an off-white, opaque, oval pill and a glass of water in his hand. He sat beside me, as I leaned my head on his shoulder. "Take it." He told me, handing me the contents he was holding before. I did what he asked of me. After I had swallowed it, he placed his right arm around my body and pulled me closer to him- where I felt safer.
"Was it the stiff?" He asked me, placing a sweet kiss on my forehead.
"Was what the stiff?" I looked up at him, knowing damn well what he meant, "Yeah, I'm 99% sure. I told him I was leaving and he had access to the camera's all around the compound including my office. Where we discussed the plans with the maps and everything! He had access to everything."
Eric hummed, not knowing how to respond just yet. He also probably understood that I wasn't finished telling him everything yet.
"I'm going to kill him, Eric." I stated, a dark glint of satisfaction in my statement.
"Not before I will." He gritted his teeth, I heard the sound of his teeth grinding together. I placed my hand on top of his and sent him a smile.
"That's why I love you." I bleakly told him. He looked away, but I noticed the flood of blush that erupted onto his face and giggled, "Is scary Eric blushing?"
"Shut up." He laughed, pulling me by my chin into a deep kiss. "Maybe..."
I laughed, pulling him in for another deep, needy kiss. I had realised (after getting injured) that I had become extremely more horny than I had ever been before the accident. But the annoying thing was that Eric refused to do anything sexual with me whilst I was hurt, his excuse was that 'he didn't want to injure me anymore and prolong my recovery anymore' which was a sweet thing to do- even for the 'heartless' Eric Coulter. But I had begun to need him, desperately.
He broke away from my lips, I tried to pull him back against my face but he had other plans. Eric stood up and walked over to the kitchen, "Do you want a coffee?" He asked, pouring himself one. I nodded, giving up with the throbbing sensation sitting in between my legs. We both drunk our coffees black (no milk or sugar or any of that weird crap they but into it these days).
"Baby..." I piped up, scooting myself to the corner of the couch. He looked back up at me and smiled, "I need you."
I tried to smile and give him the look but he was having none of it. He just laughed and placed my mug on the side, next to his own.
"Eric pleaseeee." I strained, rubbing my thighs together.
"When you're better." My husband simply stated. Turning away to tidy some empty cups away, back into their homes in the kitchen cupboards.
"Fine." I sighed, "I need a bath though, I feel disgusting."
He nodded and when I didn't do anything, he came back over and sat back down next to me. "What? You need me to help you, darling?" He asked, placing his arm around me again. I nod and sigh, embarrassed.
"I would have a shower, but that means standing up for a while which makes my leg hurt more. So I need a bath." I told him, "But I need your help to get in and out of it... if you don't mind."
I usually had showers at the infirmary as they had showers with stools in- making it easier to sit and shower and then get back up again. But I couldn't be bothered to show my face for the rest of today.
"Give me your hand." He said, standing up and reaching out both of his hands towards me.
"Why?"
"Just do it, Layla."
After I had discarded my clothes, Eric helped me to take off the brace around my: shin, knee, ankle and thigh. I leant back onto the side of the tub, whilst sitting on the floor, as Eric ran some water. I felt so fucking weak, I've felt like shit this past month or so. "What's wrong?" He asked, stopping the tap and swirling the water around with his hand, checking the temperature as he stroked my cheek with his spare hand. A tear fell silently down my face and dropped onto the tiled floor followed by a few more until I was crying, again.
"Talk to me." The tone of pity in his voice made this whole situation a lot worse. Why was I like this? Why did that mission have to be so fucked up? Why did Four have to be so fucked up, I thought I could trust him?
In the end, I croaked out five words as he cradled me on the bathroom floor. "I feel like shit, Eric." He calmly held me, my head under his chin -at the same time he rocked me back and forth. He didn't answer me, he never did when I was like this- he didn't know how to act or what to say and I was fine with it. He held me and that was enough.
Sitting in the water with Eric (sitting on the side) behind me, was calming me down. Slightly. Very slightly. His huge hands brushed up and down my arms, shoulders and collarbone. "I love you." He whispered, kissing the back of my head so lightly that I could barely feel it.
"I love you too, I'm so lucky to have you. Thank you." I sniffed at him, now holding onto his left hand. "I'm sorry."
"About what?" He asked, did he really want me to spell it out?
"About this. This stupid fucking mess." I waved my other hand around to point at my leg and the rest of the room in general.
"Calm down, stop getting yourself so fucking flustered, Layl." He voiced to me, I leaned against him.
"I can't help it. They're all still out there, they're probably dead by now." I heard Eric sigh deeply at the back of me. He usually did that now when I talked about my lost team.
"One, you don't know that. And two, at least you've still got Hassan, Zak and Zigzag." I shook my head.
"For now."
Zigzag really wasn't doing well, the nurses at the infirmary had to put him into a coma and it looked as if he wasn't getting any better any time soon. His body hadn't been adjusting to the new intake of blood into his body, via the blood bags. Since the vast about of blood he had lost before, he desperately needed it.
Now staring up at the blank ceiling, I glanced over at the bedroom door where a slither of silver light had crept out of it. The corridor light was on, which meant Eric was probably working. I wanted nothing more than for him to just come back to bed with me and sleep beside me. But he had to work, just like I had to. I missed him, this was becoming a problem. I was missing him when we were both still in the compound or even apart for more than five minutes. I was had started to become extremely attached to the closeness of us being together. "This is not good." I told myself, punching my fist into the pillow behind me and groaning.
"What's up with you now?" Eric's voice called from whatever room he was in. "Needy bitch much?"
I ignored him and pulled my laptop from the side table and onto my lap as I sat up- wincing very slightly because of my overdue dose of painkillers. I typed in the password (which was a bunch of lower case letters and a series of numbers/strange maths symbols) Erudite had made it for me for 'maximum security' but I knew it was only so that they could spy on me and what I was doing via the electronic.
Opening up a tab, I saw the statements that had been written up by witnesses after the accident- those who had been involved (the Erudite doctor, Zak, Hassan, the driver and guard) and those who had helped after (several nurses, guards, Max, Eric and others who had witnessed and helped with the recovery of their peers). As I looked closer I sighed. The only two people who hadn't yet completed it yet was Zigzag, for obvious reasons, and me.
"Shit." I mumbled.
I hadn't been able to bring myself to write up my statement yet. Whenever I closed my eyes or thought back to the memories, it was almost as if I was back there- running for my life. I was back in the trailer as my teammates were drained of their blood from the wounds. I was back on the floor, screaming in pain from the explosion.
I gasped and slammed the laptop closed, before shoving it back onto the side and crawling out of bed to grab a glass of water or coffee- more likely coffee.
I grabbed my crutches and trudged through the apartment and into the kitchen, when I saw Eric sitting at the table on his laptop. His head resting on one of his arms as he typed away. I crept past him (not wanting to distract him) and poured a mug of cold coffee that was still in the pot from this morning. I thought I had gotten away with it, before I yawned. Eric poked his head up and eyed me, sending an icy glare my way. He had always hated me drinking caffeine this late.
"Don't start." I rolled my eyes at him, whilst rubbing my head. I felt a migraine coming on, suddenly. I think he read my mind.
"If you're getting a migraine, looking at a computer screen and drinking coffee probably isn't a good thing to do." He said, getting out of his seat and standing in front of me. He took the mug away from my hands and led me back to bed.
"Go to sleep, Layla." He sternly told me, lightly kissing my forehead and stroking my head.
"I can't." I answered back, "Every time I close my eyes im back there."
He pulled me into his chest, cradling me and giving me the attention I never got as a child. "We'll get through this, I promise." He mumbled, pulling me back through into our bedroom. "But before we deal with any of that, you need sleep, rest and recovery."
I nodded- but only because I left my eyelids become significantly heavy and droopier.
"Thank you." I whispered, before closing my eyes and instantly falling asleep. The darkness engulfing me and sending me into pure euphoria of rest and recovery with no pain anymore, just silence and darkness...