A bullet would be too quick. Too painless. She wanted it to do damage, wanted him to die afraid and in pain. Stopping his brain function would not be enough. Even firing into his abdomen, would leave the possibility of survival. He needed to know there was no hope. He needed to be afraid, pained, and hopeless.

“It’s just a graze, you don’t have to plot his death. Although you are very sexy when you’re angry.” Pushed her hair back behind her ear.

“Shut up.” She taped up the gauze on Javi’s arm. That sniper needed to be in pain.

Thank you so much. :D

Thank you!

Steve is a Navy SEAL, trained to withstand pain and torture, so the little matter of a bullet to the arm won’t stop him chasing a criminal. At home that night, however, he’ll admit he’s relieved when Noelani’s painkillers take effect and he’s pleasantly numb as she stitches him up.

“You should have gone to the hospital.” Her lips are a flat line, her eyes stormy.

“Nah.” He’s not even trying to placate her, just being honest. “I knew you’d kiss me better.”

“Hmmm.” She sounds unimpressed but her lips twitch and later, in their bed, she does just that.

Owen wretched into the toilet wishing for the thousandth time that his chemotherapy wouldn't make him so sick.

Added to the dull, aching pain in his chest, and it made a hard job even harder to perform.

"You okay, Dad?" T.K. quietly inquired from behind Owen.

"Not really," Owen admitted as he flushed his breakfast down the toilet and walked over to the sink to rinse the sour taste out of his mouth. "But, I'll get there."

"You want me to tell Judd that you're going to take the day off?" T.K. suggested knowing the answer he would get.

"You want to run laps around the station in full gear?" Owen countered with a wry grin.

T.K. threw his hands up in the air. "Not how I want to spend my day off."

Owen softly chuckled. "Get out of here."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow." T.K. threw over his shoulder as he left the locker room.

Owen shook his head and followed T.K. from the locker room ready for another day as a fire fighter.


Edited at 2020-09-05 06:28 pm (UTC)

I do to. Thanks.

He couldn’t catch his breath. The pain felt like it was coming from the inside out, invading every part of him.

He had failed.

They had failed. And it wasn’t even close.

He glanced over at Demmer, who was nodding at something Marky was saying.

There was a low hum in the room. Conversations were happening. Plans were being made. Plans that no longer involved being here, in this place.

Quinn wanted to scream, to pierce the half-silence. He drew a deep breath into his lungs.

It came out as a laugh.

Tonight he couldn’t even do that right.

LOL. Yeah. I think I can honestly say that in my 35+ years of watching playoff hockey that was the absolute worst performance I have ever seen. (Maybe I should have done an autobiographical portrait of my pain while watching it).

Don't feel too sorry for fictional Quinn as I'll be taking him back to a happier time soon where he'll be well rewarded.

Congrats on Vegas making it to the next round.

He thought he’d known pain. Over the years, he’d been shot, stabbed, had his ass kicked repeatedly, but none of it compared to what he was feeling now. The sound of his boyfriend getting sick wrenched at his heart, made him feel helpless and useless. Kneeling beside the body hunched over the toilet, Zayne smoothed back a lock of sweaty hair. “It’s okay baby,” he said, pressing a wet washcloth to Zeklos’ forehead. “It’ll pass and you’ll be good as new.”

“Zayne,” Zek groaned, “the next time you suggest shooting tequila, I will shoot you. Twice.”

He’d deserve it, too.

I figured we could all relate in some way. :D

Beauty Knows No Pain

From the back room, Stiles screamed and Derek could hear Lydia saying "beauty knows no pain" followed by another ripping sound and Stiles screaming.

"He should have never bet against her determination to win," Derek said with a shake of his head and a small smug smile on his face.

"I don't know what you're so smug about, Hale," Jackson said as he joined Derek. In his hands were three rather large containers of wax. "Lydia tells me you're next."

To Derek's left, Isaac and Erica laughed as Boyd reached out to grab Derek's arm and keep him from running.

Thanks.

Definitely fun to write

The One Constant in Hell, Supernatural (John Winchester), PG-15, 100 words
Read on LJ or AO3