Page 64 of Collin: Episodes 13-15
She went back to writing.
Collin made a fist out of his one good hand. “Why?”
Collin nodded.
Linda moved her pen once again.
He had barely heard of flash bang grenades, but it made sense. There had been so much noise there was no noise in his memory, just the sensation of force. And now he was only hearing bits and pieces and ringing in his ears.
Linda touched his good hand gently with her fingers and started writing again.
Them. He needed his Sir and his Master. He needed to be back in their bed with no clothes on, feeling their breaths on his skin and their heartbeats under his palms.
Instead, he said, “Alice?”
Her eyes sad, she shook her head and shrugged.
Clinging to his Master’s hand, Collin curled in on himself against the side of the bed. Tears dampened his cheeks.
Something pricked him from behind. His body grew heavy, and he fell, a sob breaking silently out of his throat as his Master’s limp fingers slid out of his grip.
Ash sat beside his bed when Collin woke next.
“Alice?” Collin slurred, forcing his sister’s name from between his lips.
Ash grimaced. He gave Collin a hard look.
Collin swallowed. Ash sighed and said something. This time, Collin could hear Ash’s voice, but the words were still not intelligible.
Ash opened up his phone and started typing:
Collin raised an eyebrow. Ash gave him a wry smirk and shrugged. He went back to typing.
Collin tried to focus. Somehow all the pieces were flying around in ways that didn’t make sense yet. “Why is Ellisandre mad?”
Ash huffed.
Dead. Collin blinked up at the ceiling. Was it possible that Mikhail was dead? Could he let go of the record now and never have to think of it again?
Not that he’d be able to forget, but at least he wouldn’t be reminded each time he packed up his things and carried it with him. He wouldn’t have to pretend the carefully packaged vinyl was a fond memento. It could be what it had always been, something he wanted to leave behind.
He asked.
Ash scrunched up his face, typing some more.
“Okay.” Collin tried to bring his voice down.
Ash smiled. He patted the middle of Collin’s arm very gently.
Everything. He wanted to know everything, but most of all, he wanted his men. Instead, he closed his eyes. Maybe it was the drugs, but he couldn’t seem to keep them open, and he also couldn’t seem to sleep. He was running in the dark.
No matter how he tried, how still he lay, he couldn’t rest. His back was tight and his limbs stiff, alert. Even in the operating room, he woke up at least once. He was trying to find something, get somewhere. The doctor’s eyes went wide, and he said something behind his mask. But it was all just that film, the same film that wouldn’t stop, the sound still muted and filled with ringing and static. He fell back under the static, once, twice, more times than he could count because it was all on loop with flashes of different rooms and different faces each time he blinked.
He woke up fighting. So many arms and faces and none of them the right one. Suddenly, Ellisandre was there, cupping his jaw in their hands, their dark-lined eyes right in front of his.
