The man in black paced furiously across the room. He was wasting precious seconds that could cost his beloved her life. His mind and heart were torn at this very moment in such a way he had never encountered before.
"She's dying, dammit! Make a decision, man!"
His inner battle was briefly forgotten as he peered into the darkened room where she lay bleeding upon a table. He could hear her now ragged and shallow breaths- it pained him mercilessly to think that these may yet be her last. At that thought, all other plans fled his mind as he sped across the threshold and brought light into the dark.
Following a period pregnant with dread and anticipation for the man, his patient became more stable. The loss of blood has ceased although consciousness was possibly days away- if she awoke at all. He cleaned and bandaged her wounds as well as he was able. When he was finished, the majority of her torso was wrapped mummy-like. He had taken great care to treat her catatonic body with utmost respect, priding himself on how gentlemanly he performed. He had not removed any article of clothing that was not directly in contact with a bullet's resting place. She was still dressed modestly although these cold, damp clothes would not do to aid in a speedy recovery. He gently removed her boots, socks, trousers, the remainder of her shirt, leaving her undergarments. In another situation he might find intrigue and pleasure in such a sight but for now lusty thoughts were shut out from his role of caretaker. Gathering her soggy clothes, he dashed away and, in a way she would have found humorous, returned with haste holding a pile of dry and insulating outerwear.
Once he had her fully clothed again he could sense her body starting to heal itself naturally as her temperature rose. He would administer painkillers and antibiotics once he had her settled where she could rest for as long as she needed. The tall, lithe man picked up the small woman gently off the cold surface, arms hooked around her back and legs. With meticulous care he made his way to his own bedroom, a place she had never dared to enter before, and even now was doing so not of her own will. The darkness would help her to sleep peacefully and recover.
He laid her easily atop the covers and went about wrapping her in a soft blanket that would keep her warm while not causing her to get too hot. Lying down opposite her on the large bed, he removed his glove and tenderly took her hand in his. What a contrast it showed in the dim light; her soft cream-colored hand wrapped in his large scarred one. A single tear made its way down his similarly scarred face beneath the mask.
"It was never meant to be like this…never like this"
And finally, when exhaustion took him, there they lay slumbering together. This strange pair that, by no coincidence, fate had decided to bring together.