Drawing It In
It was the blood, the smell of it, persuasive and precarious, that made Quatre jerk his head up.
That hurt.
Closing his eyes and wincing, he slowly brought his head down. That soothed the pain, but it still burned. It was his neck, he realised.
Opening his eyes, Quatre for a moment was confused. He didn't see much at all, grey metal, a few shattered remains of glass and red.
A start of alarm raced through his body, and Quatre struggled to rein in his need to move. The car was red, he remembered, trying to hold down the hysteria.
He should have been used to tight, enclosed places, the cockpit of a Gundam wasn't spacious and he had been fine in there. It was the lack of control, not have the ability to escape and flee. That was what sent the adrenalin running through his body, which made his body begin to shake.
There were yells, shouts and cries, and the sound of sirens. Trying to speak hurt, but Quatre screamed anyway, his voice choked.
Not knowing if that helped, or if anyone heard him, made time seem like it wasn't passing.
Quatre didn't remember seeing the truck. He had dim memories of another car skidding, the truck swerving and… chaos.
The car was new, the brakes should have held, Quatre wondered if it was a sign of approaching distress that made him think of insurance. Surely, that wasn't normal.
He had liked this car too. Trowa found the backseat sexy. Quatre half smiled, the simple act of thinking of Trowa lighting his mood.
Lights of blue and red reflected of the glass, the broken glass fracturing the light onto Quatre's pale skin.
He licked his lips, twitching when he tasted, felt the coppery taste of his own blood. His breath sped up. They were taking too long, he thought feeling the spread of fear racing through his bones.
"Why are they raking so long?" He whispers quickly through half numb lips. "They shouldn't be taking so long…" He felt his breath catch, against the rapid rise of his chest.
He took a large gulp of air, and held on and to still his panic.
Without air, some things became so clear. His legs were becoming numb; he could barely feel them when he attempted to move his toes.
That should have frightened him, he knew, but somehow it didn't.
Black spots appeared, blinking at them did nothing. His chest began to burn, almost choking him, he didn't know how much longer he could -
Deep breath.
It easier this time. The air felt hot, but in a good way. The burn of his lungs started to fade as Quatre slowly blinked his eyes.
He must have a head wound, he grasped. "I have to stay awake," he murmured. Nipping at his lips at an attempt to stay alert and conscious, Quatre tried to stem the remerging terror.
It hurt again when he started back against his seat. The light, bright and invasive seared his eyes and he shut in protest.
"Hey! Are you alright? Can you speak?"
"Help me… please."
"Don't worry, we'll get you out. Stay calm, you'll only get hurt of you lose control of yourself. Okay?"
"Okay…" Quatre answered, "Thanks…"
The light disappeared for a moment, but Quatre urged himself to stay calm against the overwhelming fright. He was going to be rescued. It made the battle a little bit easier.