Death Dance

Changes

We were back home. We'd gotten her into the car. The tires screeched as we pulled up in front of the Academy. Blood was everywhere, coating everything. We were all panicked, trying to keep her alive.

"Come on! Let's go!" Five shouted, starting up towards the Academy. Luther held her in his arms, her lifeless form held delicately, like she was a porcelain doll.

"I don't think she's breathing!" Luther replied, voice hoarse from crying.

Klaus followed Five up the stairs, "If we don't get her upstairs, she's gonna die."

And it'll be my fault.

Luther placed her on a bed upstairs, letting Grace take a look at her. She frowned, getting to work immediately, "She's suffered a severe laceration to her larynx. One of you will need to give blood."

Immediately all six of us volunteered, "I will!"

"I will," Luther said again, "I'm doing it."

Pogo shook his head, "I'm afraid that's not possible, dear boy," He told Luther, "Your blood is more compatible with mine."

Grace got a bunch of surgical instruments ready as we made the decision, and the sound of their clattering was especially loud.

Klaus replied, almost nervously, with his own proposition, "Hey, don't sweat it. I-I got this big guy. I-I love needles."

"Master Klaus," Pogo shook his head, "Your blood is... how shall I say this? Too polluted."

I sighed, "I guess that probably takes me out too," I admitted. I got a brief questioning look from Klaus but ignored it. I didn't want to talk about it.

"I'll do it then," Diego said, before sitting down, ready to give blood.

I left the room, trying to erase the image of all the blood from my eyes. My heart was rising to my throat and couldn't breathe. There were droplets of it everywhere. It was everywhere. I ran into my room, heading straight for the familiar cupboard. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't be a superhero anymore. I hadn't saved anyone!

I felt myself screaming, I could hear it, but it felt far away. I curled up in my hoodie, my hands squeezing over my ears, pushing into my knees. Lines throbbed across my wrist as my muscles flexed, pulling the scabs. Blood dripped onto my leg, bright red against the paleness of my skin. I was sobbing now. Tears mixed with the droplets of blood, spreading all over me. I wiped it away bit it just smeared. It was everywhere! Suddenly the tight space was suffocating with the smell.

I pulled a few clothes out of the cupboard and went for the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting red hot needles of water smash into my back as I scrubbed the blood off of me. I still felt the phantom blood on my hands, and suddenly the water turned red in my eyes, it grew thicker, and I was drowning in it. I frantically turned off the tap, pulling on my clothes and heading into the hallway. I paced for a minute or two, lost with no idea of where to go. I collapsed on the floor of the hallway, focusing on the wood under my fingers and the feeling of my breaths as I slowed them down, trying to calm down. There was no blood in here. I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall and for the first time in my life giving in to silence.

A soft ukulele played in my ears, a slightly distorted voice singing gently. It wasn't too quiet anymore. I took a deep breath. The hallway was clean. I wiped my face gently, trying to clean the tearstains on my face. I was okay now. I pushed the headphones deeper in my ears, looking around my room, looking to the cupboard. I guess I'd outgrown the comfort it'd given me. I was officially out of the closet. I smiled softly to myself. Physically out, maybe.

I shrugged, walking out, only to hear the others arguing downstairs.

"The bastard that nearly killed our sister is still out there, with Vanya!" Diego shouted, "We need to go after her!"