Work Text:
Despite the heat of the desert, Alan's body was shivering. His back was slouched, his face was covered in sweat and his breathing was shaky and panicky. Under the iron hand of pain, he looked left and right, looking for the slightiest out of place movement. His left shoulder blade poured blood from its shoddy tear and each wave of pain when it radiated to its peak made his diaphragm jump and spasm.
Alan ran, sometimes limped, among the ruins, trying to calculate the angle he has to place himself according to the killer's field of vision. As he felt his heartbeat being quieter, he knew the killer was going away. The relief made Alan sigh but he didn't try to control his emotions (and couldn't) as a sob escaped his vocal cords. He let himself fall like a ragdoll on the top of the ruins, crossing his arms to rest his head on.
The pain subsided mildly to give more space to terror. It gnawed his insides and scrambled with the cold logical parts of his brain. Despite his efforts to keep quiet, he still cried and whimpered. He struggled to think, alone getting up by himself to keep the chase going. He covered his incoming moans of pain through whispers, but he still felt like everybody in the whole place could hear him.
He heard light footsteps. His breath hitched in dread but he managed to gather more courage to move his head to see who or what was approaching. He saw a gorgeous thin figure, dressed in raspberry-colored textile. She walked like a model and her eyes showed cunning intelligence and confidence.
"No need to worry more, writer. The killer is after Leon. He has always been looking after others more than himself. He's sacrificing himself to save me, once again."
She was smiling the whole time she talked. Alan had met Leon before. He knew how brave he was, even before he got caught by the Entity in his own world. He was a policeman but went through a lot when he was 21 years old, way too much stuff on his first day on the job.
He frowned suspiciously, however. How many times did Leon put himself in danger to save this woman ? They must be great friends or went through the same things for such a strong bond to be created. Adversity makes a relationship stronger, or thinner in Alan's case. He remembered how upset Barry was when he dealt with Alan's depression and secrecy. He also remembered how irritated he was with everything else, including himself.
He felt violently extracted from his thoughts when Ada put his good arm on her shoulder and forced him to stand up.
"Come on, I'm going to treat this ugly injury you got there" she announced in a calm sweet voice.
Alan groaned in pain, or fear of pain, he didn't know as the fear of being heard and caught by the killer supplemented the former. Ada took him to a ruin that still has a semblance of a roof and higher dust-yellow brick walls. Once they arrived, she put Alan down who fell on his knees while trying to crouch. He tried to control his exhales but the pain and fear wouldn't go away. Ada passed a hand in his black hair lovingly.
"Now now, everything is okay. I'm going to make the pain go away." she cooed.
Alan sniffed. Despite the inner coldness and standoffish attitude she was giving off, he felt reassured by her tender gestures. It was like her whole body acted like a shield or a home, a more protective edifice than those fragile ruins.
Ada took a roll of bandages from a small pouch around her thigh and started wrapping Alan's shoulder blade. Alan closed his eyes. He struggled to let himself completely relax under the sweet care of the classy woman but the touch of the bandages that heal and soothe the pain gradually in this strange horrific world gave him a spark of hope and optimism about the resilence he could muster later to deal better with what would come next.
The calm breather came to an end when he felt his heartbeat grow louder. Ada had the same effect too, so her thin meticulous hands hardened through the manipulation of his body to shove him in a nearby red locker. He let out a shout. Ada hissed as she cringed while she covered his mouth with her hand before she remembered to close the locker. Their heart beat in unison, drops of sweat making their forehead glow in the light. Through the small openings, they could see the killer walking, each step echoing against the walls.
A tremor crawled from Alan's legs to his shoulders, which didn't go unnoticed by Ada. She turned her head and put her nose and forehead against his cheek to reassure him. She gave a side-eye to the openings to look for the killer's location. While she was watching its every movements, she removed her hand from the writer's mouth and stroked his other cheek as she made quiet reassuring sounds like shushing or "tsk tsk" sounds. Alan closed his eyes, shedding tears, and leaned to the woman's touch. His stomach felt tense as he tried to make his erratic breathing quieter still. It didn't help as the pain was making him nauseous.
Ada slowly opened the locker door and guided Alan outside under her light touches, the writer's mind still drown in a fog, waiting for this stressful situation to disappear. She made Alan sit on a small pile of bricks and moved his left arm up to her hip. As he gasped from pain and surprise, not seeing how his cheeks reddened, she closed her hand on his so he could grab his dress.
"I need to roll the bandages around your arm, so I need to have access to your armpit." she said. "Stay still" she added with more authority.
Alan looked up at her with a confused face. He muttered "alright" under his breath as he felt it would feel wrong to contradict such a strong opiniated character. 'She must know what she's doing', his brain whispered wordlessly. As she worked on his injury, he lowered his head and tried to focus on a small speck of dust on the ground. He tried his best to ignore how awkward it must look from outsiders, and how beautiful and charismatic she was. He made his grip lighter as he was afraid to damage the silk fabric of Ada's dress. It looked and felt expensive, he didn't want to put his dirtied hands on such an immaculate and beautiful piece of clothing.
Suddenly, a wave of pain came in full force, making his whole body tremble. His mouth opened to scream but he mustered all his strength not to, despite his yearn to do so. Only a shaky exhale came out of his tensed throat. As dizziness threatened to make him fall over, he put his other hand on Ada's hip to stabilize himself. Ada hissed as he accidentally grabbed her skin under her dress. She was hearing his breathing struggling to remain steady and quiet as he wavered.
"It's okay, big boy. I almost finished." she said, always with her calm sweet voice.
He panted as he held Ada like a lifebuoy, his head still low but his eyes shut and his teeth clenching from time to time. Fat drops of his sweat crashed on the sand, leaving wet spots that disappeared in an unnatural speed.
After the longest seconds of his life, Ada finally finished as she removed his hands from her hips gently but in a hurry. Alan took some more breaths as he felt better and wanted to enjoy how good it felt to inhale healthy liters of air. Ada crouched to his level and caressed his cheek and hair.
"Are you okay now, writer ?" she asked in a sweeter voice (he didn't know how it was possible with her) and almond-shaped eyes full of cold intelligence but underlying affection.
Alan let out a huff as a sigh and timidly smiled. "Yeah. Thanks."
Ada slowly blinked. Alan contained within himself a flustered huff at the most discreet delicate expressions she showed. They stood up and Alan felt relieved and relaxed when he didn't feel any pain nor discomfort. It was as if he wasn't even injured in the first place. The bandages didn't make the fear go away, alas, but the femme fatale's care, sweet eyes and hands soothed the burning clawings of his heightened senses due to adrenaline. He was happy to be close to somebody else. It was better than being alone and risking dying without the eyes of someone who could dash to save him.
A monotone siren-like sound was heard by the couple. They turned their head to face the black spot with the aura of the gates that just appeared in their visual field. They took another second to memorize the angle and path they have to take to escape before Alan turned to Ada.
"Let's go." he ordered in a half-hushed voice but in a determined tone.
Ada smiled and nodded. Their hand reached for the other's, as if they wanted to be the first one to initiate the gesture. They then got off to the exit, running but linked to each other by the touch of their palm and with their fingers intertwined.