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    Summary

    As he stared at the sleeping figure in front of him whose breathing was so shallow he wasn't sure if it was real, Shane couldn’t help but hear alarm bells in the back of his head. Something was wrong. But he couldn’t figure out what.

    The room felt colder. Quieter. Emptier. And everything in Shane’s head screamed wrong wrong wrong.

    His eyes moved around the room, trying to find the danger he knew in his soul that was lurking. He found none, until he finally looked at the nightstand next to Ilya and noted a plastic yellow bottle he had seen before. A bottle with a white label. A bottle leftover from Ilya’s broken arm that he never touched. A bottle that was laying on its side, previously full and now empty. Next to it an empty glass bottle of vodka, a piece of paper, and a pen.

    The feeling inside of him snapped, and Shane finally had a name for the feeling he had been carrying for the last several days. Now with the cold dread of realization that he listened to it too late.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    14,766
    Chapters:
    4/?
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    Kudos:
    253
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