"Icarus flew too close to the sun, but at least he flew."
-Jeremy Robert Johnson
He was your Icarus, and you were his sun. That's how you saw it, anyway. Together, you formed the wings that would carry you to the top of the world...and then you'd b...
My throat felt like it was burning from the inside out. My legs felt like they were made of the heaviest lead. My eyes stung, but they dared not close. Yet, I still ran to her.
It was my fault. Everything had been on me, and now I was desperately clawing through a merciless sea of guilt, the waves brutally bashing against my pounding chest, filling my lungs until I could barely breathe.
Why did I bring her?! Why did I ever think I could trust him to follow a plan?!
I had been assisting in loading Endeavor into the ambulance when I received the dreaded phone call. Best Jeanist's voice had been rippling with fear as he spewed out the news, already on his way to Kyushu after being summoned as (Y/N)'s secondary emergency contact. Hanging up abruptly, it was then that I finally saw the countless missed calls upon my cracked screen.
"Hawks, she's in emergency! They wouldn't tell me anything, but whatever it is, it's bad! Where were you?! Why was she in the center of it all?! Why aren't you with her?!"
The disgusting prick inside of me wanted to scream at him, to tell him that I had been doing my job, but that wasn't the case. Protecting my wife and my unborn child was my job, and I had ultimately failed. Now, I was sprinting through the winding hospital corridors, searching for my reasons to live.
They're okay! They're alive! They're alive! They've gotta be alive!
Had running always been so difficult? My legs just didn't want to cooperate, and my feet felt like they were sinking deep into the polished floors with each step. Leaving a scattered trail of scorched vermilion in my wake, I finally made it to that dreaded door. The door that was now the only thing keeping me from my girls.
It was there that I became frozen in time. Did I knock? Did I burst in like I so desperately wanted to? What if she didn't want to see me? What if, what if, what if, what if..?
No...she does.
My palm held the force of a thousand men once it connected with the surface of the door, and I pushed through, my breath trapped by the squeeze in my throat. Bloodshot (E/C) eyes dragged to meet mine, but she had already been sitting up. Her beautiful face was now a Picasso of plasters, herding her tears into an unnatural zigzag down her paled cheeks.
No words needed to be said.
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(Artwork commissioned from the jawdroppingly talented grimm.noir on Instagram!)
From my perspective, there was nothing left in the world besides the two of us. I felt both leaden and weightless as I just stood there, unable to process a single thing. Was she talking? No, she was exactly the same as me, trapped in the clutches of a pain that could never be truly expressed.
