A/N: This was originally going to turn into this huge Adam/Lawrence thing, and it ended up being this little ditty that is only like 200 words. So…here! Tell me if you have any interest in me developing this. I think it will fly as a little one-shot. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Nuttin' is mine.
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Lawrence drags himself down the concrete hallway, feeling the blood slowly seep from his wounded leg. It's hard to comprehend that his foot is actually gone. Left in that horrid bathroom to rot for all of eternity. And unless he can get some help, his foot won't be the only thing left to rot.
"Help! Someone!" His arms get weaker with each movement as his worn out, raspy voice attempts to find someone. Larry knows it's a lost cause, but he's still determined. He won't believe that this is how he's going to die. And how Adam's going to die.
"Please...I'm…all the blood. Adam's still…Adam…he's…" Larry's mouth hangs open and yet words refuse to come. He's desperate to just see one person, alive, to help. If not to help himself, then to save Adam. Adam. He shot Adam. "Oh…" Lawrence mumbles, replaying the past ten minutes in his head. Or has it been longer?
He can't even think straight, much less estimate how long it's been since he abandoned his cellmate in that lone bathroom with two corpses and a bullet wound to the shoulder. Adam…
His eyes close peacefully as he lies still in a hall, body pressed firmly to the wall, arms strewn weakly on the floor. All thoughts slowly fade, and there he rests. Soaking in blood and fading hope.