Everything was really hazy. Carlton had to fight with himself just to manage to open his eyes. When he did, everything was white. It made him wish he had kept his eyes shut. "Ughhhh." He felt the groan deep in his chest. What happened? He remembered getting shot, and then Juliet was screaming at him...
"Carlton?" a soft voice called out his name. "Carlton, can you hear me?"
He barely nodded his head, even the slightness of that motion making him tired. His eyes cracked open to look over at his partner, sitting as close as to him as she could be without being on the bed with him. It took him every bit of energy he had, but he managed to bring a shaky hand up to her face; he had to make sure she was real, that he'd kept her safe.
She moved into his hand, and Carlton felt the wetness and warmth of her cheek; she'd been crying.
"Ss'no good cryin' Jules, I—I'm fine." He felt his hand slip from her face, and quiet sob as he drifted away again.
Carlton woke again in the hospital room, still hazy, but more clear than he'd been the last time. Juliet wasn't here anymore, and his stomach lurched. He needed to find her. He pushed himself out of the bed, groaning with the effort. His legs felt unsteady beneath him, but he slowly made his way over to the door of the room, pausing to catch his breath.
"Damn it we're losing her!" There was shouting and commotion in the hallway. He pushed the door open as a blur of people went by, pushing a gurney into the next room.
"Charging, clear!"
He followed as fast as he could into the room.
"Damn it! Charging, clear!"
A faint beep, not followed by another.
"God Damn it!"
Paddles thrown across the room.
"I'm calling it."
Blood pooling on the floor.
"Time of death, 0652, August 15th."
Shadows climbing the walls.
"Get some orderlies to help you with this, aye? I'm gunna go talk to the rest of them."
Silence piercing his heart.
"Shame, she died saving that other guy. Hope he pulls through."
He tried to go forward, but he couldn't. He couldn't move at all. The shadows weighed him down, the blood was drowning him.
People moved away, and he saw her. Saw her covered in blood — her blood. He'd failed her too. She shouldn't have been protecting him. That's not how this worked. That was his job. He was the one who was supposed to protect her.
He tried to run, to get away, but the shadows turned on him, dragging him into the blood beneath him. Pulled down into a lake of his failure. His body gagged on warm iron, his mind choked on his failure. He felt his lungs fill with blood, felt his soul failing.
He didn't fight it. He deserved it. She was dead and it was his fault.
He let the shadows consume him.
He woke to the sound of monitors screaming. He was tangled in blankets and wires that he couldn't escape from. He thrashed desperately trying to escape them. He fell to the floor, pain ripping through his shoulder. He managed to crawl to the wall, placing his back against it. He couldn't breathe. He was still choking on blood. He tasted the memory of the iron in his mouth, like hot acid in his throat.
He wasn't at home. He couldn't do what he needed to. He put his hand on his right shoulder and pushed, hard. Pain shot through him, down his arm and back the other way. He pushed down harder, focusing on the pain that filled him. He gagged on his cries, and clutched harder, the unfamiliar pain starting to sink in.
"Carlton!" His nightmares back to taunt him.
"Hey hey hey, Carlton, calm down." Her voice cut him deeper than he ever could.
He felt warm hands on his arm, "Carlton, look at me. Hey, come on." He wouldn't. He would not let his dreams taunt him like this.
"Hey, come on now." He felt a gentle touch on his cheek. He couldn't help it anymore, he needed to see her. He opened his eyes. His vision was blurry through tears, but he could see her— Could see the color in her face— blonde in her hair not tainted by red streaks.
"There you go, look at me." He felt his arm being drawn away from his shoulder. She put his hand over her heart, still grasped by her own. He felt the gentle beating of her heart under his hand.
"You—you were dead. I saw you. You were bleeding, and they tried — but they couldn't — should've been me— I'm so sorry." He wrapped his arms around himself, embracing the burn from his shoulder with the movement. He wrapped his arms tighter and tighter, soaking in the pain, letting it wrap over him; letting it block out the shadows.
"Carlton, I'm right here, I'm okay!"
"My fault, I should've been the one—"
There was a prick in his arm, and the last thing he saw was his partner's face.
But he didn't know which one was real.
The next time Carlton awoke, it was to the feeling of hot hands touching him, and a distant voice. He remembered the panic earlier, but couldn't for the life of him remember what it was about. When his eyelids finally fluttered open, they were drawn to his partner, sitting next to him still, after everything. The sound of the heart monitor picked up, and Juliet snapped her gaze up to meet his. Fresh tears ran down her face, and more spilled over behind those.
He tried to say her name, but all that came out was a whisper. She nodded, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and she held tightly onto his hand. He noticed the restraints on his wrists, and she must have seen it too.
"You, ah, you were hurting yourself, the nurse had to sedate you." She was obviously fighting hard to keep from crying more. "You—you tore all your stitches out. You were bleeding a lot. They had to take you back to surgery."
"huh." he managed to reply weakly. He didn't remember any of that. He felt her hand running over his arm, over the raised scars; and the fresh cuts. "Carlton...I—I—"
"No." He got that out alright.
"Carlton...you almost died — twice! You're, you're —"
"I'm what, O'Hara? Pathetic? A failure?"
Her eyes shot open wider, and her jaw fell, "What? No! Why would you think—"
"That's what everyone thinks! It was my job to protect you, and I almost got you killed!" He felt dizzy, his breathing getting harder to control.
"Carlton, what? Where is this coming from? We're partners! It's not all on you to protect me! This goes both ways!"
The panic set in as it did the night before, and images from his nightmare came flooding across his thoughts. He shut his eyes, trying to block it out. He fought and pulled against the restraints, his heart racing in his throat. He fought desperately, pulling any and every which way he could to try and escape.
"Carlton!"
The hands that gripped his wrists were firm and grounding, almost comforting. He felt the fight draining from his body as he focused on his partner's voice; the one that was with him, soothing and real, competing with the images of her bloody body for his mind's attention. He forced his eyes open, and was confronted with his partner's seaside eyes startled, but sure. She was straddling him, pinning both his arms down. She released her grip when he stopped struggling, but she never took her eyes off his, even as she climbed off the bed. She just kept her hand holding his, and waited.
His breathing was coming in short, ragged gasps, verging on tears, but he fought them back. He couldn't stand the hurt and fear in his partner's eyes, knowing he was the reason it was there. He didn't know what he was feeling. He wasn't happy, he knew that, but this wasn't sadness. He was caught in the middle of a million emotions and he just felt so—empty.
They sat there together; not breaking their gaze with one another, until Carlton finally felt he could breathe without gasping. He was tired, exhausted. He couldn't do this anymore. His own mind was trying to kill him—how is he supposed to fight that? He didn't want to fight it anymore. He just wanted—
"Carlton?" He'd been looking at her, without really looking. He focused on her, trying to focus on her, without focusing on the emotions that were so plain across her face. "Are you okay?"
He was falling apart, and no one could see it.
He smiled, "I'm used to it."
