Work Text:
A cool spring evening. It was quiet around, not a soul, except for two men. Only the heavy breathing of both interrupted this atmosphere.
– Where's Barb? She was supposed to be here at one! – Curt spoke heavily, clutching the bloody wound in his side and trying not to look in its direction.
– Stop whining, she'll be here soon. Let me bandage your wound. – Owen said and put his hand on Curt's arm.
– I don't need your help. Barb is coming with a first aid kit. – the wounded man said unexpectedly rudely to himself.
– I love you too, darling.
– You have holes in your shoulder yourself, it's better to take care of yourself!
– I know what to do.
Both men fell silent. Curt squeezed his eyes shut in pain, but continued to be stubborn. Owen sighed heavily.
– Look, I'm bandaging your wound, and then you'll bandage mine. Agree? – Owen suggested.
– Okay... – Curt answered quietly, – But only because I can bandage you! – the man quickly added.
– You're just as stubborn.
Owen tore off the edge of Curt's t-shirt and began to bandage the wound. For a second it seemed to Curt that everything had turned black and only the partner's eyes and the bloody trail of the shot above them were visible. Curt blinked and everything went back to normal. To get away from the sudden image, he shook his head.
– Does it hurt?
– No, come on quickly, your shoulder is worse than mine so far. I was stabbed with a knife, and you were shot.
– Idiot, a wound in the side can hurt vital organs. Besides, it doesn't hurt so much in the shoulder.
– Oh, bitch, go fuck yourself.
– Only if you are doing it. – Owen said with a grin.
– We will arrange this after the mission.
The men fell silent again. Owen finished with Curt's wound and was about to say something, but suddenly began to fall. Curt managed to catch Owen and suddenly burst into tears. He couldn't stop and the silence surrounding them was broken by loud crying.
"My God, stop, why are you crying, urgently bandage Owen!"
He started trying to tear another piece from his t-shirt, but for some reason his hands did not obey. Owen continued to lie on the ground and the blood spread over the grass, turning it scarlet.
Curt panicked, began to breathe quickly, trying to inhale through sobs. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. Everything began to darken and Owen had a bloody hole on his forehead again.
– Mom! Mommy! Please stop! Stop it! Stop it... – it was hard to speak, it was as if the tongue could not turn. Curt squeezed his eyes shut.
The man opened his eyes and sat up abruptly. There was a familiar dark room around him, which meant safety. Curt rubbed his eyes and there were wet marks on his hands. He looked at the bedside table, on which there was a small photograph and began to cry again.