"My winless fight."
With Noah's escape from prison Willow finds herself constantly looking over her shoulder. When she learns whose behind Noah's journey of revenge she knows that her time is winding down. She tires her best to focus on the good thi...
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Paul's head hurt like hell. That was the first thought that ran through his head when his mind began to stir again. He felt lethargic, his entire body felt as if he was waking up from a coma, that he wasn't aware he was in. He groaned when he opened his eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the dim light of the room. He had no idea where he was or how he got there. Timidly he lifted his hand to touch the sore spot on the side of head, only a bruise now.
Memories hit him like a ton of bricks. The Halloween party. Ezekiel. Going for a walk. Noah. He was attacked by Noah, which means Noah must have brought him here. He didn't know why and he didn't know long he had been there or where Noah was at now but Paul knew he needed to gain his strength and kill Noah once and for all.
He turned his eyes back down to his arms, small puncture wounds from needles already healed but dried blood coated his arms in frantic patterns. What stuck him as odd was that the blood was not his own. He spotted the empty morphine bags scattered around him and suddenly his lapse in memory and lethargic state made sense.
Slowly he rose to his feet, fighting off his muscles' coma state. The first thing he saw was a lifeless form a few feet away from him. He approached with caution, using the wall to help guide him, his legs still struggling to move.
He gagged at the sight before him.
Noah was laying his back with his eyes wide open. Blood and brains were pooling under his head mixing with his brown hair. A bullet wound in the middle of his forehead seemed to be the cause of death. Paul had to cover his mouth as the smell of blood reached his nose. He had always been sensitive to the sight of blood but brains were something he never thought he would see.
Paul carefully stepped by Noah, looking for clues about what happened and who pulled the trigger. Noah's plan couldn't have ended in suicide, and a second puddle of blood next to a pile vomit was his first clue that someone else had been there. There was a gun discarded close to the separate puddle of blood, one he had never seen before. When he scanned the area again he saw another gun.
"Oh shit." Paul muttered as he rushed to the familiar object, he was mentally begging for it to belong to anyone other than who he thought. When he examined the handle he spotted it, carved in the handle Willow Davis. "No. No. No." Paul quickly rose to his feet and fully scanned the entire area.
He saw the mess of fire red hair against the far wall, her head slumped to the side as she appeared to be unconscious.
"WILLOW!" He sprinted to her, forgetting about the way his muscles cried in protest. He fell to his knees in front of her, his knee landing in a puddle of blood. Her jacket was covering her torso, and with a shaky hand Paul pulled it off. "Oh God." Once again his hand rose to his mouth and nose as he struggled to keep the bile down.
A knife was sticking out of the right side of his abdomen, blood had soaked through the white fabric of her shirt across her entire stomach. She had a large gash across her collar bone that was dying the top of her shirt red as well. Paul placed his warm fingers to her neck, his other trying to lift her head. Her skin was freezing and sticky but she had a pulse.
