Like Eating Glass-Chapter 9
Okay, let's see if I can get back into the swing of things and get my writing to be coherent and just generally better than the last two chapters have been. The idea for this chapter came to me when I was reading "Swim 'Til You Drown" by Illyria13, it's rated M so you might have to search it out but it's amazing. I feel like the idea hasn't really come together in my head yet of what I want to do but I guess the best way to figure it out is to just go for it, so here we go. Still don't own Flashpoint, let me know what you think.
He was in his zone and though he didn't want to be stuck in his head at this moment, it was better than having to interact with people. Since the moment he'd pulled up to the station anxiety and frustration had been mounting and he was glad to have the catharsis of afternoon workouts to try and sweat out some of the tension. Despite his scraped hand, he went immediately for the punching bag when they left the locker room.
"Guess you beat me to the punch, Wordy." Spike joked as he jumped onto a treadmill. Everyone laughed but Wordy didn't lift his eyes from the white tape roll he was using to wrap his hands. There was low music playing from a radio somewhere in the gym but the sounds of the treadmills, the weights, and the heavy breathing drowned it out.
Wordy took a few soft jabs at the bag to test its weight and his hands before speeding up and getting into a rhythm. A few quick jabs with his right hand sent a stream of stinging from his knuckles up into his wrist but he forgot about it as he moved onto his left hand and then different combinations. He felt his breathing get into a rhythm with his punches. He hoped that he would feel the weight that had seemingly been crushing his lungs all day, lift and disappear into the workout as tension usually would, but his mind wouldn't let it go.
He punched the bag hard with his right hand and had to pause to let it swing back to him before continuing. Come on, Wordy, get it out here that way you won't blow up on Ed and Greg. He was angered even more as he thought about the aggressive tone he had taken with his friends earlier in the day. You can't take this out on them, they're just trying to help. He shuffled around the bag and moved into a complicated combination of punches and kicks.
They just don't get it, they don't get what's going on in my head. Wordy thought as anger again flooded his mind for a moment. He attacked the bag with more energy and harder punches, the worn leather biting against his taped hands. He paused for a moment and wiped the sweat from his brow as he closed his eyes, immediately regretting it.
When his eyes closed, her's eyes were there again. Her bloodied body, her pained, pleading expression still stuck on her face as he saw her staring at him. He opened his eyes quickly and felt his breathing pick up but he couldn't get the image from his view. He shook his head out in an attempt to dispel the image seemingly engraved on his pupils but to no avail.
Tears came to his eyes as he began rapidly punching the dull red bag. He saw her eyes staring at him from the firm leather The screw in the ceiling creaked with the increase pressure but he didn't hear it. The pounding of the blood in his ears drowned out the sounds from around him. He put his full weight behind the blows and let out small cries as he made contact with the bag. Make this stop... He pleaded with his mind and the image before him. He didn't hear the treadmills stop and the questions directed towards him as he continued to go at the punching bag with all of the energy and force he had in him.
"Wordy...?" Ed had put his weights down and approached the bag but Wordy hadn't looked up. Ed motioned for Sam and Spike, who were both approaching him, to stay a little further back. "Wordy...talk to me buddy..." Ed took another step forward after getting no response from Wordy. He took another glance at Sam and Spike before raising his arm and gently placing it on Wordy's right shoulder.
There was no thought, no transition from his inner turmoil to reality as Ed's hand rested on Wordy's shoulder. He couldn't stop himself from turning towards the new, unexpected encroachment and continuing his flurry of punches. Part of it was anger, towards Ed, towards Greg, towards Emily, towards the world really; but most of it was a culmination of all his emotions, pent up and begging to be released. Wordy's fist made contact with Ed's jaw and face and sent him sprawling backwards with the force and pain of the unexpected blow. Things happened quickly as Ed fell to the mat and was quickly flanked by Spike trying to assess the damage. Sam sprung up and pushed Wordy back away from Ed, his mind still not completely aware of what was happening in reality. All of them were yelling as Jules and Greg joined the mix, Wordy finally calming down enough to realize what was happening. Ed's voice broke through the confusion as he wiped blood from his mouth and nose.
"I'm fine...I'm fine..." He mumbled as he spit more blood into his shirt sleeve. Spike knelt at his knee and tried to help him up as Wordy realized that Sam was still holding him back. He eased and looked around the room and then at Ed as he felt his chest tighten again.
"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." He whispered. Everyone looked in his direction as he pushed through Sam's hold and took strong bounds towards the locker room. He tried to block out the sounds from the gym, the voices calling after him, and he was overall successful but there was one voice he could never tone out.
"Eddie, go with Spike and Jules and get cleaned up. Do you think anything's broken?" Greg asked with a calm voice. Wordy couldn't hear Ed's answer as he walked further down the hall and slammed through the door of the locker room. His body was hot with sweat and anger, embarrassment and guilt. He paced up and down the rows of lockers, ripping the tape from his fingers and letting the blood of his newly reopened wounds drop onto the floor. Overwhelmed and mostly unaware that Greg had come into the room, he continued to heatedly walk from one end of the row to the other. Greg stood at the edge of the row but stayed out of Wordy's path, hoping to wait for Wordy to acknowledge him.
Silence reigned for a few minutes as Wordy stayed stuck in his head, now aware of Greg's presence, and Greg stood where he was with a calm expression. Wordy was growing more agitated and his hands flexed in and out of fists as he walked. He suddenly stopped pacing in front of his locker and started to enter his combination with shaking hands.
"Wordy, buddy, can we talk for a minute?" Greg asked softly. Wordy didn't look up from his locker and was growing more frustrated with his combination lock.
"There's nothing to talk about." Wordy mumbled in a low growl. He pulled at his lock to no avail again before kicking his locker.
"Easy Wordy." Greg said soothingly as Wordy turned to face him. Though he looked obviously agitated, he seemed crestfallen looking at his feet.
"Is Ed okay?" He asked meekly. Greg nodded.
"I think he'll be fine, Spike's cleaning him up now." He let Wordy take a breath before speaking again. "It'll help if you talk to someone, Wordy." He said knowingly. Wordy raised his head and looked directly into Greg's eyes for the first time since the prior day.
"Talking won't do shit." He said bitterly. He continued loudly before Greg could interrupt him. "Talking is not going to help the fact that I killed a kid yesterday." Greg looked like he was going to speak again but Wordy continued. "Talking's not going to change anything!" His voice got heavy, his eyes glazed over a bit as he looked over Greg's shoulder. "She was hurt and abused and she needed help...and I killed her. Nothing you say can change that." Wordy stormed out of the locker room despite Greg's calls. He knew that he wasn't doing the right thing but it was the only thing he could do. He heard Greg and Sam coming after him but he didn't look back as he jogged down the stairs and out of the building into the unforgiving winter.
Ugh, I don't like the way this turned out either! It took me so long to get this scene, I feel like I'm not doing anything justice the way I'm writing it. The emotions just don't feel like they're really there. Also, I'm trying to keep things vague-ish, I want people to come to their own conclusions but I'm not sure if I'm doing that too much. Ugh, please review, tell me what you think. Don't know when the next chapter will be up, move out tomorrow morning so it might be a little later this week. Thanks!