Pleasure After Pain
Bleeding. It had been pretty fucking terrible. Or at least from what Levin could recall. He could hardly remember what the hell had happened after then initial blow, other than drifting in and out of consciousness. Butch had said it wasn't fatal, but it had been one hell of a bleeder.
God he was getting soft. Take a bullet Sunday night be up in the morning on Monday. Was he really getting that old? Or was he losing his mind? Most probably the latter.
I really need to fix that cieling fan.
The thought came easily as he stared at the ceiling from his cot, light filtering in from the overhead outside air vents. The blades weren't moving, but they were still twirling, mostly from the fever that had taken advantage of his weakened state from earlier. He had swore he wouldn't die. He couldn't have died from that stab but more from either heat consumption or the feelings that were threatening to take over right then.
Donut, Grif, Lopez... Simmons. Basil. Shit, can't even think straight. Can't even lift a pen right now. Where the hell is everyone? Why the hell can't things just go back to normal? When did I lose myself like this?
Wincing from a stroke of pain that made itself known in his guts, Sarge coughed on his tension, angrily rubbing at the moisture that threatened to fall from his eyes.
God he was getting soft. Take a bullet Sunday night be up in the morning on Monday. Was he really getting that old? Or was he losing his mind? Most probably the latter.
I really need to fix that cieling fan.
The thought came easily as he stared at the ceiling from his cot, light filtering in from the overhead outside air vents. The blades weren't moving, but they were still twirling, mostly from the fever that had taken advantage of his weakened state from earlier. He had swore he wouldn't die. He couldn't have died from that stab but more from either heat consumption or the feelings that were threatening to take over right then.
Donut, Grif, Lopez... Simmons. Basil. Shit, can't even think straight. Can't even lift a pen right now. Where the hell is everyone? Why the hell can't things just go back to normal? When did I lose myself like this?
Wincing from a stroke of pain that made itself known in his guts, Sarge coughed on his tension, angrily rubbing at the moisture that threatened to fall from his eyes.