Freed

42

**Trigger Warning**
severe progression of suicidal thoughts.

Time turned into a fragmented haze as Ethan's arms stayed wrapped around me. The world was merely background noise as we stayed huddled together in the tight embrace, his arms serving as my safe place. We didn't speak; all we did was breathe because for the first time in years, my lungs were open. They didn't burn. They didn't scream for oxygen. They didn't scream for air.

For the first time in years, I felt like there weren't invisible hands wrapped around my throat. There was no one sucking the life out of me, despite the fact that there was barely any left. I felt like I could breathe, even if it only lasted temporarily.

Ethan stirred, and his hands came down to grip my arms as he tried to gently pull me off of him. With exhaustion lacing my very bones, I pulled away from him, until we sat right next to each other on the couch.

My gaze drifted away from him to the bodies scattered across the ground. Amina's chest was the only one that moved as she rested there, still unconscious.

I looked away from her and back to Ethan, scanning his appearance. He ran a bloody hand through his disarrayed black hair, running his fingers through the messy waves as he exhaled slightly. He looked exhausted, and I caught the slight wince travel across his face as he shifted on the couch.

"You said it didn't hurt," I whispered, my cracked voice causing him to glance over at me. His charcoal grey irises ran over my face as if he was making sure I was still in one piece. "You just winced."

His lips twitched slightly, but his eyes remained blank. "You try getting a belt to the back," he replied flatly. "I was lying to make you feel better."

I sighed, shaking my head. I gestured for him to turn around, my heart in my throat. Ethan shook his head and stood up. "No time," he murmured, his gaze drifting down to where Lucas' body was. "I'll get it checked out later." His voice was husky with exhaustion and I wondered how long it had been since he'd slept.

Ethan slipped out his phone and dialed a number, before he brought it up to his ear to speak. My eyes drifted to his back and my eyes stung when I noticed the slight blood lacing the back of his white shirt. Lucas had drawn blood.

My fists clenched in my lap. I wished I'd made him suffer before I'd killed him.

"Where are you?" Ethan's voice was raspy as he spoke, his gaze still downcast on Lucas and Elena.

A moment of silence passed as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the call.

"No," Ethan murmured. "He's dead." A pause. "So is, uh, Elena. Gunshot wound to the chest."

Ethan listened to whatever the person said on the other end, before he said a quick goodbye and hung up, slipping the phone back into the pocket of his dark jeans.

He turned around to face me, studying me for a moment before he spoke. "Elijah is a few minutes away with some back-up to clean this place up. Kaiden's staying with Caleb. He's awake now."

I said nothing as I stared down at the blood painting the floor red. My hands were limp in my lap as I sat, my mind completely blank. 

"Izzy?" Ethan's voice was quiet. "Did you hear what I said?"

I didn't react. The corners of my vision began to turn cloudy as I zoned out, my eyes unable to leave Lucas and Elena's bodies. The blood overpowered everything else. I couldn't see anything other than the liquid staining everything. I couldn't hear anything other than Elena's last words to me.