Page 18 of Unmasking Mayhem
"Thank God you're okay," Crow whispers in my ear, his voice cracking with heartfelt emotion, and of course it tugs at my heartstrings.
"I'm not okay. I need to see Havoc," I tell him, trying to push off of his chest so he can put me down, but he refuses. "Take me to him."
"That's where we're going," he assures me, holding me so tight that there's no way I can escape his hold. “King removed three bullets from him and sewed him up pretty good, but he lost a lot of blood, so Tann is currently giving him a blood transfusion... with his own blood."
He keeps talking, but all of his words jumble together, and it's no use trying to figure out what he's saying. I just nod,pretending I understand, but I don't, and all I can think about is seeing Havoc. Just as we walk into one of the secured rooms in Masked Mayhem, Crow grabs my cheeks and forces my eyes onto his, a scary look inside them.
"Whitney, try to stay calm," he whispers, the sound of a breathing machine and relentless beeping invading my thoughts.
The moment his hands touch my face, I feel the weight of everything that has been building inside of me surge to the surface. I can’t let myself fall apart now—not when I’m so close to seeing him.
“I can’t calm down, Crow. What if he doesn’t wake up?” The words spill out, raw and unfiltered, and I feel the tremor in my voice echoing my disbelief.
“Then we’ll make him wake up,” Crow insists, his voice steady and unwavering despite the turmoil swirling in the air around us. “Havoc is a fighter, Whitney. You know that. Besides, you’ve got to reassure him that he isn’t alone.”
I try to breathe deeply, to focus, but the steady beep of the machine feels like a countdown, each chime reminding me of how precious every moment is. Crow pulls me closer, his thumb swiping across my cheekbone, grounding me with his touch.
“Just a few more steps,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my forehead.
Carter and Red are close behind, their presence a steady reminder of the strength I need to summon. I can feel the air around us thickening with tension as Crow starts to lead me toward the room where Havoc lies. Every step seems eternal, each foot forward laden with heavy anticipation. The world narrows to just that door—everything else fades into nothingness, and my heart races as dread mingles with a flickering hope.
Finally, Crow stops in front of the door and looks back at me. “Are you ready for this?” he asks, his eyes searching mine for a flicker of assurance.
I can only nod, though doubt clings to the edges of my resolve. There are things I want to say and fears I want to voice, but they’re swallowed up by the gravity of the moment. With a gentle push, he opens the door, and the cacophony of beeping machines floods my senses, amplifying the restrained chaos swirling within me. Havoc lies on the bed, still and pale, an image too quiet for the man I know. Tubes snake from his arms, and the soft hum of the blood transfusion machine is a grim reminder of how fragile life can be. I can hardly recognize him, like this—vulnerable and silent—far from the fierce spirit that has always charged ahead, leading the charge. But he still has his mask on, which doesn't feel right. But then… I hear it. The whisper of breath, shallow but steady. I allow myself to hope, cautiously, like stepping on fragile glass. The room spins with emotions I can barely name as I take a tentative step forward. I grasp at his hand, feeling the warmth of it beneath my fingers, an anchor in this swirling storm.
“Havoc,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Can you hear me?” I lean closer, searching for the flicker of life in his stillness, desperate for a signal from him that he’s still in there.
Crow stands beside me, his presence a silent reassurance, while Carter lingers a few steps back, respecting the moment. I can feel the weight of all our histories pressing in as I lean closer, hoping that in this room of machines and sterile smells, a part of Havoc can still sense me.
“Please… come back to us.” My words float in the still air, a tentative plea, and I begin to focus on the memories—laughter shared, battles fought, warmth in the way he held me, and the joy of being alive surrounded by friends.
I’ll pour everything I have into this moment, every ounce of love and strength, hoping somehow he can feel it wrapping around him like a warm embrace. The silence hangs, heavy and thick like a regret, and I close my eyes, beseeching the universe to return him to us. I can’t imagine life without him in it. And then, just when I think despair has reached its peak, I feel it—a flicker of movement beneath my fingers. My eyes snap open as Havoc's eyelids flutter slightly.
“Havoc!” I urge, my heart racing. “Please!”
He struggles, the movement small but resolute, a battle against the darkness that has been wrapping around him. Discomfort flashes in his eyes, and I want to cry for the pain he’s experiencing.
“Don’t fight,” I whisper, squeezing his hand tighter, wishing I could take the pain from him, wishing I could show him that he’s not alone in this fight. “Havoc…” I breathe again, wanting him to hear me, to come back from wherever he has gone. “We’re all here. We’re not going anywhere. Just come back to us.”
For a heartbeat, everything is still as I hold my breath, hoping against hope. The machines continue their rhythmic insistence, but the world falls away once more. And then, just like that, his eyes slowly open, revealing the familiar depths in them—clouded at first, but there’s a flicker of recognition that makes the universe feel right once more. They find mine, and somewhere in that connection, my heart finds its rhythm again.
“Whit…” he croaks, a voice so weak yet laced with the strength of knowing I’m here.
The floodgates burst; tears spill freely down my cheeks as joy crashes over me in waves. “Yes! I’m here, Havoc. You’re safe. I’m right here!”
His lips curve into the faintest semblance of a smile, barely noticeable, but it gives me footing amidst my anxiety.
“Thought I lost you…” he whispers, and every word feels like a promise—one I would fight to keep.
“You didn’t—none of us are going anywhere. We’re with you,” I assure him, clutching tighter to his hand, desperate to keep him anchored here, right now.
Crow pulls away, his presence both a comfort and a reminder. I can see the relief in his eyes, mingling with something else—perhaps guilt or regret—but right now, none of that matters. My focus is on Havoc and the undying resolve that courses through me in that instant. Carter steps forward, a quiet determination behind his eyes as he joins us by Havoc’s side.
“Just rest for now. We’ve got you,” he murmurs, sharing in the moment of victory—our unity a balm to ease the scars of the past.
I can feel the echoes of my past closing in, but they no longer carry the weight they once did. I finally see now what I didn’t before: I have brought my friends back together, stitched us into something whole again, and I will protect this newfound strength with everything I have.
For the first time in a long while, I allow myself to believe that light can break through even the darkest corners. I lean closer to Havoc as he battles his way into consciousness, my heart pounding with the rhythm of hope awakening. Together, we’ll conquer whatever darkness lies ahead. Together, we’ll write the next chapter of our lives, where laughter can echo once more, binding us in resilience and the unwavering bond we’ve forged through the fire.
