[JP] Commiserate
[Flack = det_don_flack, Jay = bdifferent and is referenced with permission. Follows THIS. Set in comedown_tome.]
Blood doesn’t always just come off with soap and water. There’s a stickiness that clings to your skin and stays between your fingers, even long after the visible traces of the blood are gone. It wasn’t just on his fingers either, he could feel the stick of it on the back of his hands and down his arms. That was one thing you could always say about an arterial bleed-it was never small and unnoticeable. It got everywhere, and Danny knew that no matter how many times he showered and scrubbed, it would never be completely gone.
He knew what he did was stupid. He agreed with most people on that fact. But he knew that he still had got the guy. The guy was a murderer. If he hadn’t gone in there, the guy probably would have gotten away to hurt someone else. It wasn’t about his life. He had a choice to make and he made it. It may not have been the smartest one in the world, but he did make it. And he did get the guy.
Every rumble of the taxi beneath him reminded him of the steady pound of bullets against the metal cabinet behind him, and he felt his heart start to race in his chest again. It was an involuntary reaction that jerked him out of whatever stupor he was in and reminded him just how easily he could have been a bag of bullets, and just how much he stood to lose if he had been. But he was doing his job. He couldn’t feel bad for doing his job.
Right?
He was too tired to think about it anymore. Right now he just wanted to go home. Not his home, mind you, but home nonetheless. He wanted to see his girl and pretend he hadn’t just been a moron a few hours earlier and nearly gotten himself killed. If that was too much to ask, he didn’t know what was small enough that he could have.
He just hoped she wasn’t going to punch him once she found out.
350 words
Blood doesn’t always just come off with soap and water. There’s a stickiness that clings to your skin and stays between your fingers, even long after the visible traces of the blood are gone. It wasn’t just on his fingers either, he could feel the stick of it on the back of his hands and down his arms. That was one thing you could always say about an arterial bleed-it was never small and unnoticeable. It got everywhere, and Danny knew that no matter how many times he showered and scrubbed, it would never be completely gone.
He knew what he did was stupid. He agreed with most people on that fact. But he knew that he still had got the guy. The guy was a murderer. If he hadn’t gone in there, the guy probably would have gotten away to hurt someone else. It wasn’t about his life. He had a choice to make and he made it. It may not have been the smartest one in the world, but he did make it. And he did get the guy.
Every rumble of the taxi beneath him reminded him of the steady pound of bullets against the metal cabinet behind him, and he felt his heart start to race in his chest again. It was an involuntary reaction that jerked him out of whatever stupor he was in and reminded him just how easily he could have been a bag of bullets, and just how much he stood to lose if he had been. But he was doing his job. He couldn’t feel bad for doing his job.
Right?
He was too tired to think about it anymore. Right now he just wanted to go home. Not his home, mind you, but home nonetheless. He wanted to see his girl and pretend he hadn’t just been a moron a few hours earlier and nearly gotten himself killed. If that was too much to ask, he didn’t know what was small enough that he could have.
He just hoped she wasn’t going to punch him once she found out.
350 words