zackoda fanfic?!?! [angels of death]

III: Thank You, Dakota

A new day passes as the snow grows thicker, inch by inch. I was sure the temperature could go negative at this point, but who could say? All I really wanted was for the air vent in our room to be closeable. I sulked at it during midnight, shivering under the snow gathering in it. I wrapped my arms around my blanket, hoping the sheet would suffice enough warmth for me.

Once I woke up, I headed immediately to the prison yard, waiting for freetime to fulfill my job quota. It wasn't until long attendance was over. I decided to skip breakfast to get my work done as early as possible.

Looking back on my life, I reminded myself of the days where I spent minutes, if not hours, cleaning and mopping at a pool of red liquid. I never questioned where the red liquid came from, nor did I ask why I was cleaning it. All I knew was that any mess had to be cleaned up.

As I raked leaves and picked up trash, I thought of it as me cleaning back home. My memory kept on flashing to it, as if it was something important. I tried to push the feeling away, but it kept coming back at me, like a warm, damp hug that blurred my vision. I watched as static voided my thoughts, almost causing me to black out. But something interrupted me, something like yelling and screaming. I understood, it was a fight.

"You fucker!" A familiar voice yelled, cursing their attacker. I heard hordes of inmates flock away from the scene, creating a huge echo of footfalls. I turned my attention to the fight.

There, I saw Zack, kneeling down on the ground, gripping at his stomach. I watched him lean back on one of the brick walls, leaving a blood trail from where he crawled. He looked injured, or more so than before. I didn't hesitate to go help him out.

"Zack, hey," I crouched down to get a better look at him. "Are you oka---oh god, oh fuck...." I was flabbergasted to notice a pool of blood drip down his shirt, quickly forming a puddle on the snow. I let a cuss word slip out, but I didn't focus on it at all. "We need to get you to a medical office now," I spoke in a commanding voice, the way I always did when I was serious. I held out my hand to pick him up.

"I'm...fine." Zack coughed up blood in the middle of his sentence, smacking away my arm. "Don't even think of touchin' me. B'sides, I can walk this off."

That was the most hilariously stupid thing I had ever heard. It was a pathetic excuse to hide a serious injury.

"No way I'm going to let you 'walk this off'. You're bleeding out here, and I'm not ever going to leave until you let me help," I glared at him with serious eyes that could cut through a leg.

He glanced away, with a sort of desperate look in his eyes. I could tell he was reminiscing about someone, but I had no idea who. It's not like I would know. I wondered if I said something wrong.

"Awh, fuck..." He grit his teeth at the sight of his wound as it bled down his uniform. I had to do something, and quickly. I felt a sense of relief when an idea popped up in my brain.

"Oh, I know! Let me disinfect your wound for you. If you're not going to let me bring you to the office, I can at least do this," I shuffled through my pockets, looking for my bar of soap and washcloth. "I can do that for you, yeah?"

With no other option, Zack hesitantly nodded. "Make this quick. Snow might be blood flavored once yer done,"

I followed my plan, hastily leaving the prison yard and into one of the hallways. With water fountains spread out across the map, it was an easy request. I rushed over to one of the fountains, but Omari stood in my way.

"Oh, Dakota! Where have you been?" He looked relieved to see me, as if he was looking for me. He gripped at his jacket, hiding his hand behind his back. I could tell he was hiding something from me, but I passed this fact, as Zack was more important.

"Omari, move, please. I need to get to..." I mumbled my sentence, making the last words incomprehensible.

"Woah, okay now. Bit in a hurry, are we?" He walked away from me, leaving my sight. I heard him scowl, but I wasn't too sure.

I ran over to the fountains, my tennis shoes screeching on the tile floor once I halted. Soon after I regained my balance, I dampened my washcloth, lathering it in a bit of soap. It smelled nice, like baby powder. I headed back to the prison yard, speed walking over to Zack.

"Awh shit, didn't know you were actually gonna do it. Just thought you hit the brakes and ran," Zack chuckled once he saw me. He smiled, however, I wasn't sure if it was to mock or thank me for my actions.

I kneeled close to him, washcloth in hand. I held it delicately in silence, waiting for Zack. For a few seconds, I didn't realize that he didn't get it.

"Uhm, hey, can you pull up your shirt a little, please?" I tried to shake off my red face. It was a bit embarrassing to say that.

He did as he was told, revealing a deep cut on his stomach. I cringed at the sight of it.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," He reacted to my expression, trying to cut the thick atmosphere.

"Shit, they really did a number on you..." I said, patting down his wound, careful not to hurt him.

"Nah, I was just goin' easy on 'em." He spoke this, waving his hand to and fro in denial of my comment. I laughed a little. "Agh, god, that stings!" Zack bit his tongue as I ran my cloth down his wound.

I sweat a little, disappointed that I hurt him. I gave him a half sad face.

Once we stopped chatting, I felt eyes judge me from my back. It sent a shiver down my spine, creating sweat at my palms. I felt the need to leave the yard. There was no room for another pair of eyes, after all.

"Hey, maybe we should get out of here. Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I can."

I extended my hand towards him to pull him up. This time, he took it. I felt his rough bandages scratch at my skin, but I tried to keep a straight face.

I pulled Zack over to our cell, supporting his movement. He was fairly heavy as I tried to walk with him, making me exert all my strength. I exhaled once I dropped him over to our cell, gasping for breath.

"Ah, I'm sorry...I shouldn't have exerted you that much," My eyes followed the blood trail he left behind.

Zack leaned on the edges of my bunk bed. "Agh...don't worry about it." He made himself comfortable on the cold, concrete floor.

"The blood isn't going to stop at this rate..." I mumbled to myself quietly, looking around the room for a solution.

"Eh?" Zack questioned my movement as my eyes locked behind him. He took off his jacket, puddled with blood.

"I know! I'll take this, and..." I snatched my blanket from my bed, unfolding it in front of him. I tied it around Zack's waist, substituting it as a bandage. I felt proud of my quick thinking.

"Hey, isn't that yer blanket? What're you gonna do wit'out it?" Zack asked, feeling the fabric of my sheet.

"I haven't thought about it until now, but I'm sure I can make do."

"Hah, guess yer pretty useful in some situations..." His words uplifted me. I wasn't sure why I felt this way, even though it could be an insult. "Hey, what's yer name? Don't think I got it."

"Dakota...Dakota Cathleen." I gulped in the middle of my sentence. I wasn't sure of what he was going to do.

"Th...Thank you for this, Dakota."