The Clean Patient

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A/N: As usual, I would recommend putting the video on loop.

  

The second hand continued to tick away in the veterinary office, and its faint sound echoed down the small hallway. It mixed in with the quiet chatter in the front room, and Ether didn't pay attention to their conversation too much; his ears were more focused on the soft beating of her heart. As long as he heard that, he would remain calm; he wouldn't lash out at the vet again even if the boiling rage in him from Callest's actions urged him to do so. He wanted to release his anger on something, but he knew that it wasn't the time nor place; (f/n)'s life was on the line.


Since his mind was so concentrated on her, he barely registered how much time was passing, but it felt like it was taking too long. Then again, her injuries were severe, and her soft heartbeat wasn't the best of signs. At any moment, it could stop, which scared him immensely. His right hand clenched his left upper arm tightly, and he felt a bone crack. He didn't even wince, but he felt the bone repair itself soon after. If only (f/n) had his healing ability, but then she wouldn't be in such a position in the first place, and they probably wouldn't have formed a partnership since she would've been able to live and not agree to his deals.


A bitter, pained smile touched his lips, and he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Even now if he could transfer his healing ability to her, he was reluctant to do so since that might mean that she might leave him behind. She had cried and shown that she had missed him, but he didn't know how long that would last after her recovery. Would she revert back to her old self that didn't acknowledge some of her inner feelings? That uncertainty tortured him because he didn't even know if he could bring himself to save her life with his ability if he could, but if she died because of that failure, that would end him.


Such thoughts tore him apart because he didn't wish for her to leave or die. But, her leaving wasn't a hundred percent, and if she died, then him keeping his ability would be pointless. So ... No, he definitely would. He had dealt with uncertainty before with his pink flower, and he would handle it when the time came for him to help her. His smile became a bit more relieved before he released a sigh. Sadly, none of that mattered, though, since he couldn't transfer his healing capability to her, and the thought of her faint heartbeat vanishing drifted back into his head.


Almost, he thought that he had heard that happen, and his heart nearly froze, but he realized that it only was an illusion of his mind. He still could hear the soft thump of her heart, and he sighed in relief before he forced his mind to think of something else, which led him to something he kept hearing from Nick and his awake teammates. That name that they kept saying, the name that (f/n) had breathed out to him before she had gone unconscious, was that his name? They continued to address him by it, and it felt the same as it did back when (f/n) had spoken it. It was as though he had heard it long ago, but his memory didn't provide him anymore clues than that.


Once (f/n) made it, she definitely would, he would ask her, and he hoped that she would tell him, but he would make sure that she was fine first. He could wait on such a question since it wasn't as important as ensuring that she was alright, and his mind traveled back to the gravity of her wounds. For him, the five stab wounds signaled death of his victim, but Callest hadn't been aiming for her heart. His arm had raced lower, but Chris had changed the course of his nails a little bit. A sinking feeling entered the pit of his stomach. I'll take what you desire most.


It would've connected sooner if he hadn't been so focused on saving (f/n)'s life at the time, but he was glad that the realization had taken longer. Otherwise, (f/n) might've not made it to the vet in time since understanding Ca-Cal-Callest ... Barely, he even could think of the male's name. His left fingers stabbed into his right arm, and a few blood droplets dripped onto his pants. But, he might've lost it even more since he would've stolen two possible lives from him if (f/n) hadn't made it; however, Callest had been wrong. Even though he did wish to have a child with (f/n), that wasn't what he desired most.

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