Jack Frost: The Last Fairytale (Jelsa)

A friend indeed

Cole sat on the cot in his cell cradling his knees into his chest. Blood dripped from the ceiling and coated the walls, every once in a while some would fall on him and soak into his clothes before disappearing. His eyes were puffy and hollow from all the tears he had shed and the continuing horrors of that night. He had been there long enough to be able to ignore the blood engulfing his vision but he couldn't stop shaking, he was exhausted but somehow his body found the nerve to quiver uncontrollably.

The memory of everything that had happened had been more or less a blur, it had happened so fast. But what he would always remember clearly were Gus's last words.

"Cole," Gus wheezed. It sounding like he was trying to catch his breath.

Cole dropped the gun and rolled his friend onto his back.

"Gus-" the words caught in his throat when he saw the amount of blood pooling from the wound in his gut. Gus held his hand to the wound and then pulled his hand away to look at his bloody hand quizzically. "We have to keep pressure on the wound and st-stop the blood." Cole was running on pure adrenaline. He pulled off his shirt, wadded it and pressed it against Gus's bullet wound.

"I need to call 911, you're going to be fine buddy just hold on." Cole tried to grab his phone with his left hand while the other one held the shirt. He put the phone on speaker and tried to press the buttons to dial 911 but his hand was still covered with blood and it made it slippery and hard to coordinate.

"It's not... your fault (Cough)" Gus coughed up blood. He reached out and grabbed Cole's left wrist to get his attention. Gus sensed his impeding end, he used a clean finger to trace a snowflake on the thick leather bracelet that covered the self-inflicted wounds that only Gus knew about. "Remember... me... live... Cole."

Gus let his last breath wheeze as Cole hit the call button on his phone. "No! Gus, Stay With Me!"

(Click) "911 what is the nature of your emergency?" Came the voice over the phone.

Cole began to weep, it was too late. Or was it? He yelled the name of the Ice cream shop in the phone and that his friend had been shot. After that, he ignored the lady on the phone as he pressed on Gus's chest.

1, 2, 3, 4.

He pressed his ear to his friend's chest but there was no heartbeat. He ignored the blood that covered his own body and face as he continued.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

Cole didn't stop, he couldn't give up on his friend. His own hearts pounding rang in his ears as he continued pressing Gus's chest for what seemed like hours.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

Then someone grabbed him, he didn't know if it was Hans and his crew returning to finish what they had started or a hobo trying to rob him, but Cole fought against them until he realized they were the police. He looked passed the lady officer to see Gus standing over his body clean and well, but silent.

"I'm sorry," Cole said to his friend. "I'm so sorry."

Gus's eyes were pained as if he wanted to say it would be alright, but couldn't.

The door to the hallway opened, it shook Cole from his memories to the tainted reality of his blood drenched cell. He looked up through the bars to seem the redhead and the man in the hat from before. As they came closer the blood receded from the walls and ceiling until it was gone, but Cole would be the last one to tell anyone it was over. He also had to be the last one to tell anyone that it was happening, the people in front on him could send him to the nut house if they thought he was as crazy as he knew he was. He swallowed hard but his breathing was still irregular from the crying, but he girded himself for the next chapter in the Hell that was his existence.