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The cold tiles pressed against his sweating skin as he fought for breath in the desolate bathroom. Blood coated the room; lots of it from the corpse laying in the centre, but the fresher being his. It poured out of his leg, spilling onto the floor like a careless current. His severed foot sat a little away, the chain still locked around it.
The blood stuck to his skin and filled the sultry air with a metallic tang that made his stomach hurl. His head was light as he dazedly looked across the room, sight faltering in and out of focus as he tried to survey his surroundings. His vision and thoughts were blurred with pain, but he tried to prevail none the less.
Holding himself up mostly through his arms, he surveyed the ground around him. It was hard to see, through the flickering light and the hazy sight, but to his right he noticed a grey blur laying abandoned on the white tiles. Willing his eyes to focus, he realised it was the gun.
A new surge of panic coursed through his veins as he remembered the danger his wife and daughter were in, and that he was the only one who could save them. The bitter voice of his capturer repeated in his head.
“The only way to see your wife and daughter again, is to kill your cellmate.”
He remembered their terrified voices over the phone, how they had begged him to save them. He thought of what torture they would be put through if he failed. He thought of his innocent daughter, who was being punished for his mistakes. She didn’t deserve to have this brought upon her, and neither did his wife. She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all because of him.
But he had to save them.
He pushed himself up further against the greasy tiles, feeling blood sticking around his torso and legs as he pulled away from the sticking prison. Pain burst through his battered body at the sudden movement. Fresh bolts of agony shot up his leg, but he could hardly feel it. The roaring in his ears and the adrenaline in his head blocked out any inconvenience. Reaching forward, he grabbed the gun in his hand and pulled it closer to him. The sleek silver form felt smooth in his shivering grip, but he didn’t take much notice. In a quick motion, he pointed the weapon directly towards the other man sitting across the room from him.
“Lawrence! Lawrence, what the hell are you doing?!” His target’s shocked screams echoed loudly around the confined space, but he could barely hear them.
Adam had to die. He had to save his family. He had to save himself.
Adam pressed himself closer to the bathroom wall, attempting to put as much distance between him and Lawrence while he tried to talk the other out of his intrusive thoughts. Clearly, his partner was dazed with adrenaline and fear, and wasn’t thinking right.
“Lawrence, don’t do it! It’s not me who’s doing this to you! Listen to me!” He screamed while panic sharply rose in his voice.
But Lawrence didn’t hear him.
Without another moment to spare, the trigger was pulled and a deafening bang filled the air. Adam was sent recoiling back into the corner as pain shot through his shoulder. Lawrence flinched at the sound, which was gone as fast as it had arrived. He felt something clear in his mind at the shock, as though it had shaken him back into reality. His eyes widened as realisation flooded into his veins.
Letting the gun fall to the ground, he stared in disbelief at Adam’s body huddled at the other side of the room. Blood spewed out of his shoulder and blossomed deep crimson stains across his white shirt. He didn’t move.
Lawrence let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He felt his body sway beneath him as guilt rushed over him, like floodgates opening within his soul. What had he done?
Adam had never been the enemy in this. He had been manipulated by his capturer into believing that. They had forced him into hurting him through his own terror. His own fear had convinced him into doing the unthinkable in order to escape. He hadn’t even realised what he was doing until it was too late…
Gingerly, Lawrence pulled himself across the tiles towards his injured teammate. He tried to fight the guilt burdening his mind, focussing on helping Adam, if he could even be saved now. His body burned at the strenuous movement, and no condescending adrenaline could mask that now. He inwardly screamed from the pain, but tried to ignore it as best he could.
Slowly, he dragged his battered body across the tiled floor until he had finally come close enough to Adam. Sitting up, he reached a shaking hand across the other's body and grabbed his arm.
Adam released a yelp of pain, and Lawrence immediately recoiled as he realised that was the arm he had been shot in. A whisper of relief filled his soul though, at the knowledge that he hadn’t killed his friend.
“Adam? Adam, are you okay?” Lawrence cried, begging for his teammate to reply.
Slowly, Adam opened his eyes in a hazy state. His head lolled to the side as he met Lawrence’s concerned gaze. He groaned as a fresh wave of pain washed over his shoulder and chest, but didn’t have the energy to do anything more than that. Eventually, he responded.
“Lawrence…?” His words were slurred and faint, barely more than a sigh. “Why would you… do that…”
The guilt weighing inside of Lawrence intensified as he heard the confused and heartbroken tone of his friend’s question. Shakily, he reached for Adam’s hand - the non-injured side this time - and held it comfortingly.
His voice faltered as he replied. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t think straight, and everything that he had said was getting into my mind, and I was so scared… but that’s not much of an excuse, is it? I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. But I did, so I don’t know what else to say…”
Adam didn’t say anything for a long time. He stared at Lawrence with gray eyes, mixed with pain, hurt and confusion, like the clouds of a heavy storm just before it begins to rain down.
At last, he made a response. Without speaking, he raised his uninjured arm and grabbed Lawrence’s shoulder with a weak, tentative hand. It wasn’t in a state of anger or disappointment or betrayal, but rather an urging beg. An uncontrollable pain fell upon Lawrence.
“Lawrence,” Adam finally said. “You have to get help. You have to save us…” The last few words were lost in an aching sigh.
Tears began to prick at Lawrence’s eyes, but he could hardly feel them as they started to run down his face. Silently, he shook his head.
“I can’t leave you, Adam,” He spoke hoarsely, voice choking on emotion.
Adam just continued to stare at him with the same sorrowful look. Though he didn’t say anything, his message was clear.
Lawrence glanced towards the large doors at the far end of the room. He would be able to reach them now that his leg wasn’t chained anymore. As his gaze returned to Adam’s, his injured partner gave him a solemn yet confident nod.
Warm tears were spilling down his face and dripping onto the ground as he watched Adam. Every bone in his body wanted him to stay and wait alongside him, but deep down he knew he had to leave. He had to find help, wherever that may be.
Slowly, he nodded to Adam, gently pulling away from the comfort of his immediate presence. Then, he turned away and started towards the door, even as his body yearned to stay.
“Wait…”
Lawrence looked back at Adam’s faint voice. He felt his heart splinter at the hesitation.
Adam met his gaze with a grief yet hopeful look.
“You’re going to come back though, right?” He cried softly. “You promise you’ll come back for me?”
The pain in Lawrence’s heart almost outweighed the ache coming from his severed leg as he heard the doubting desperation soaking through Adam’s voice.
“Yes,” he promised.
“I’ll come back for you.”