Survival Tendencies

Chapter 4- Decide

You wake, staring at the cracked ceiling. The cold from the early morning seeped into your bones, the fire long died out. Eyes dully follow cracks in the ceiling, not fully aware of anything yet. Hands clench and unclench, gaining feeling back slowly. You sit up, stretching and groaning.

Shit. You grab your ribs gently, hissing at the pain of stretching. You move your covers down, pulling up your shirt to examine the damage. A dark purple bruise stretched across your upper abdomen, mainly on your lower ribs. You poke it tentatively, wincing even at the slight poke.

Your inspection leads to your back as well, hissing at the pain as you moved even slightly. You swipe a hand across your mouth, blood dry on the corners. You pull down your shirt, feeling eyes on you. Your own eyes gravitated to angry teal ones. Michael was awake.

"Feeling sorry yet?" You question, your voice sounding better than the day before. He narrowed his eyes in response and rolled around, instead choosing to ignore you. You snort and stretch once more, getting the blood flowing through your arms. You stand, ignoring the pain from the bruises, and walk to the bags with food and water.

Hands blindly grab a bottle and a can, pulling out a full bottle of water and a can of peaches. You pull up the tab on the peaches, walking over to your new prisoners. You avoid their eyes as you pull them into a sitting position, tearing off their make-shift gags.

Indigo tries to catch your green as you hold the water bottle to Alex's lips. He greedily gulps, forcing you to pull away before he drank more than half the bottle. You hand him the can of peaches, carefully placing it in his tan, and bound hands. He gives a thankful grunt and brings it up to his lips. You move on to Michael, making a mental note to grab another can of food for him after giving his share of water.

You avoid his accusing eyes as you gently sit him up. The extent of your damage was evident. The blood seeped through the poorly wrapped bandage, and his arm was healing at an awkward angle. Bruises lined his face and upper neck. Blood stained his shirt and dried in his hair, making it an ugly brown.

Pale hands shake, not from guilt but rather pride, as they hold the water to his mouth. You let him drain the bottle before going back to the bag, tossing the empty bottle into the bag and grabbing a can of peaches. You walk back and sit it in front of him. Michael raises an eyebrow and Alex chuckles.

"Can't expect him to eat with that hand, sweetheart." You glare at Alex before plopping down in front of the disabled male. Fingers take back the can and lift it to his lips, holding it there as he sipped from it. You tilted it further up, and he ate the peaches. Thank god it was peaches. You couldn't handle spoon feeding the asshole. You let your hand fall away as he pulled his head away, giving a soft, satisfied sigh.

"Better, your Majesty?" Michael gives a smirk as you spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'd much prefer it if you called me Master." You sneered and stood, opting to kick his injured knee. Satisfaction filled your being as he groaned and flinched from the pain. You stalk over to the bags, shifting the supplies around, deciding what to keep and what not to keep.

If you were going alone, you had to pack correctly. The two watched with curiosity as you left one bottle in each of their bags and packed the rest into yours. You did the same with the food. They'd live, you were sure. You take their weapons and meager medical supplies, restocking your own.

"Are you just gonna leave us here then?" You shrug in response to Alex, not making eye contact.

"Bait for the aliens? What next? Gonna put a giant fucking sign that says OH LOOK HERE, FREE FUCKING EXPER-" You pull out your gun and point it to Michael, not at all amused. He glares just as angrily back, teal eyes dark.