*Sherry*
This was second hand torment. She can feel bile building in her stomach, just at the mere sight of his heart palpitating through his chest. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. The monitor making her feel butterflies going zig zags in her chest. To be an onlooker to his unseating of champions was a ruination of not just his self-worth, but to her softhearted tendencies.
This was a man who sold his prowess in guns not dexterity. He should've known better, if it wasn't a tight hold she'd give him after this it'd be an ear stinging scolding, with raving slaps. Absurd, pointless, it'd result in his bandages soaking in red. To hell with it, she'd do it anyway.
Intensive treatment, she sat across his dusty hospital bed alongside other wasted chairs. For a second she pays her attention to its fullest capacity to the monitor. The beats are simmering down. She sees Jake giving a go at sitting up.
"You need rest Jake." Sherry said.
"It is you." Jake muscling up for a stand.
Sherry's face is split between a bolt from the blue, and a glower that put more pressure on Jake than the ice pack he was picking up.
"Jake. It's good to see you. Not like this though." Sherry nudging him back onto the bed.
Jake gave her the most visually disturbing look possible. He opened his lips with a toothy grin, his teeth and gums painted scarlet. He did this as he sighed into the bed.
"Gotta make money somehow." Jake said.
Sherry let her palm rest on the side of her face.
"By being the loser? Getting your ass handed to you and then getting handed to a hospital bed? You're an idiot Jake. So this is how you've been spending your days. Destroying yourself, it's pathetic Jake, pathetic." Sherry unsatisfied with this arrangement. A poor homecoming that felt more fitting as an intervention.
"I bet all the money on me until the end. I bet on the other dude. Final round. Gonna. Make a lot. Of money." Jake pausing between pants and then a sudden blood curdling cacophony of bone marrow snapping. Sherry sprung up in place but with a glare.
Sherry adjusted her vision to the window. Outside where she'd rather be if she had to endure a second more of this. She stepped over to Jake, and relocated his jaw, gently holding his hand. Jake cringed at this, tightening his grip on her hand. He let a decent mass of breath escape his lips.
"I thought our time together helped you get out of crap like this. Scheming people, playing dirty. Money isn't everything Jake." Sherry swiping her hand away from Jake's. She let her hands lay hold of his dog tags, she brought it to his ruined face.
"You see this Jake? This is in the past! This is gone! No more war, no more fighting. You're a fucking loser Jake. You have no interest besides money." Sherry guessing, she had to be the one to scare him straight.
Jake's view hit the floor. Sherry tilted her head. Her eyes watering at this once tough as nails ex-mercenary now reduced to a lost puppy. She wrapped her hands around the back of his head and neck. Clasping him against her body.
*Jake*
Whatever nightmarish macabre he had forgone was his earlier days once more. In this clutch he felt an unearthly sense of peace. He knew this surpassed the money he made, the only connection between the two was that neither would stand the test of time. He wished this moment, this interlude would carry on until the very sands of time hit the bottom of the hour glass.
"Mr. Muller. I'm aware that you'd prefer to pay in cash." Doctor Indie said at the door.
Sherry's embrace left Jake, this being the most heart wrenching moment since the time he watched her plane take off years ago. This busybody had to ruin his perfect moment.
"That's. Yeah that's right. I'm gonna pay in separate dates." Jake hopping out the hospital bed, much to the Doctor and Sherry's disfavor.
"That's fine by me. But for that there's going to be interest. The ambulance costs money, and the stitching too. The painkillers as well." The Doctor checking his clipboard.
Jake brought his two hands to his battered face and wiped down.
"He can cover it." Sherry looking back to Jake.
"Yeah, I got the money. Can we get some time alone?" The former mercenary could practically see his wallet losing weight again.
"The first batch's free." The Doctor said handing them to Jake who chose not to marvel at the bag as he once would've many moons ago.
"I don't need painkillers." Jake tossing them back at the doctor.
"Seriously?" Sherry face palming.
"Your friend is crazy." The Doctor leaving at this.
"You don't know the half of it." Sherry looking at Jake as she sat back down.
*Sherry*
Her door swung open inviting Jake to her dining room. He demanded a king's size banquet, and Sherry firmly shut down any prospects of eating solid food with his jaw's current condition. Sherry knew it was time. Face timing Leon, who so happened to be with Claire. Leon couldn't contain himself, nor Claire. Both bursting into laughter despite the distaste on Jake's face. Jake hung up the phone.
She was hungry for another hold, yearning to hug him once more. But that was out of the question. He'd probably be spooked out. Sherry told Jake about the scratch off scam at the deli across the boxing gym. Jake got deathly quiet, his face carrying a look isolated from relaxation.
"That guy did the same crap to me. I got pissed and said a ton, then his workers flashed guns at me." Jake said shaking his head.
"You're kidding me right?" Sherry said.
"Nope." Jake letting out more than he'd planned.
Sherry shut the door to the guest room, giving a faint grin at Jake's snoring. She spun around furrowing her brow now. The Deli was still open. Going through the door Sherry saw the owner.
"We're closing." The man said.
Sherry sent her fist straight into his nose. 'I'm a hypocrite.' She tells herself grabbing the man's arm and the back of his head. She shifts down, and his face shatters the glass counter.
"Whoa what the fuck?!" A worker running at Sherry with his gun.
'Three seconds.' Her training is neglected but still there. She slams her closed fist into his arm, BANG. the gun goes off penetrating the man's foot. She hammers her foot to his ankle. CRACK! Then booms her elbow to his jaw as he falls to his knee, the man dropped right as the click clack of the gun was made. She stomps his neck, hearing a moist gargle and wet breath leave his mouth. Hopping over the counter she places a revolver on the owner's head.
"I like gambling. You told me to gamble for real, so here I am gambling for real." Sherry's voice sullen and mute of any hospitality or human nature.
"It's just a twenty-dollar game! You're fucking crazy!" The owner's eyes shutting as pools of blood from his scalp run down his forehead to his eyes.
"I'm not." Sherry finding his agony delectable.
"Someone help! Call the cops!" The owner screeched in a high pitch voice, his once gruff vocal cords now straining.
"I have a friend in high places. No cops coming for another fifty minutes." Sherry standing and spinning her revolver. 'Thanks Leon. Thank God secret service could put holds on cops!' She tells herself. This was incredibly daft, she was the one berating Jake on his antics, yet here she was living grotesquely. No, this was not the same field, this was for Jake.
"One bullet, Russian Roulette." Sherry kneeling. She hammered the gun's barrel into his eye, then placed the gun in his mouth as he gave his gasp. He gave a few pants similar to a gag. "You have one fifth of a chance of dying." Sherry said.
Her finger squeezes. She leaves the owner, and swindles the tapes as the owner had once swindled her. It was time to head home.