Chapter 57
SINN'OUS
Bursting through Med-Wing’s doors catered to a violence he is used to, and all the same it’s completely different. This violence is raw. Untamed. Unpredictable. And volatile. He’s a volcanic eruption unhinged.
But the second Rogers had by passed him in the corridor, leaning in to whisper four words, then continue on with the other guard none the wiser to their little exchange. The whole world order had shifted.
Four fucking words, and they derailed him to the very core.
“Your boy, in medical.”
The medical doors clang against the wall, announcing his arrival in a shotgun’s finality. Sharp, snappy, and to the fucking point.
“What the fuck happened,” he growls, eyes locking on Reni—who steps back, pressing against the exam table and Izz’s legs.
He fucking sees red.
Nothing and no one else is seen, when his vision funnels to Reni. That smug, smart mouth, piece of excrement who is about to die.
“. . . you’re freaking out the entire room.” His boy’s words don’t register, not at first, and he only catches the tail end of whatever was said.
But the smile. The broad, unapologetic smile that Izz gives him. It’s enough to damper his temper. Watching Izz gingerly stretch out to lie down on the exam table redirects his rage into something else. Something more primal than he cares to feel. Or admit to feeling.
His boy’s pained voice floats to him. “It’s just bleeding a bit.”
Something shifts in him. He’s not entirely sure what it is. But he thinks it might be concern. Probably. Maybe. Maybe not?
“You’re fine. He won’t hurt you,” Izz’s peering at a nurse Sinn'ous hadn’t been aware was standing there, reassuring her.
Even when she doesn’t seem to buy into it.
She does, however, start to do her fucking job.
Though her gaze comes back to him one more time and isn’t focused entirely on Izz, he knows he is going to kill her.
But not yet. He has to assess what’s wrong first. He jerks Izz’s shirt up to get to the bandages below. Inspecting what’s bleeding where, and how bad it is.
Reni’s intake of breath is sharp, and will be the last sound he ever makes if he so much as twitches wrong. And that means in any fucking way at all.
Sinn'ous’s eyes rake over every bruise and blemish he’s left on his boy. The old cut under the ribs. The bandages covering the new ones. The deep crimson stain soaking through the largest of the bandages. Blood seeping out from under the soiled fabric.
Satan damn. I cut too deep.
The nurse crowds in too close, even though she is keeping a safe distance, it’s still to fucking close. Too close to what’s mine.
But I fucked up what’s mine, didn’t I?
“I-I, excuse m-me. I need to get t-to him. To assess his injuries.” Her stuttered words work against his nerves.
He’s of the mind to snap at her, and not with words. A fist will do. No, a razor.
Izz’s soft voice drags him back from the edge, “he won’t hurt you for helping me. You’re okay.”
It’s a lie. And everyone in this room knows it. He most definitely will kill her, help or no help.
Well, he would have. If Izz wasn’t pinning him with a wordless reprimand, and demand to behave.
And for some unknown reason, instead of killing her, like he wants, he sends his boy a smirk.
Stress on injured people can cause death. This is the reason why he doesn’t kill her. It’s the only reason.
It’s the only reason.
Somehow repeating it to himself doesn’t make it sound any more real.
In the end, when Izz reaches out, gripping his wrist to tug him closer, he goes. No fuss. No resistance. He complies. Satan help him. He complies.
Fatigue is heavy in Izz’s features, in the sluggish way his eyes droop. “Can you stand on the other side . . .” the words trail off. But it was most likely somewhere along the lines of, ‘so you don’t kill anyone.’
An exam table between himself and the others won’t stop him from getting to them and slitting their throats. But again. He complies. Prowling behind the table, pulling a chair over, and sitting by Izz’s side.
His gaze locks on the nurse cutting off the soiled bandages. And when Izz grunts in surprised discomfort, Sinn'ous nearly vaults the table to strangle her.
“S-sorry. I need to clean it,” the nurse stutters a nervous apology, her eyes flicking between her task and Sinn'ous.
“I’m okay. The pain’s not so bad,” his boy lies, pinching his eyes shut. And the way he instinctively turns to Sinn'ous in his time of vulnerable need. It’s enough to have his direct response of kill kill kill, slip into a voice that doesn’t conduct his actions.
He takes his boy’s arm in both hands, fingers tracing over the soft skin there. Using the touch to ground himself.
Stay in control.
Stay in control.
“I’ll have to go shallower next time,” he’s unable to catch the words, they slip out in a murmur only Izz can hear.
Satan, I need you.
“I’ll stitch him up. His side is deep but nothing life threatening.” The nurse speaks directly to Sinn'ous. “He will need to take it easy for a few days, to allow the injury to heal. Does he have any others or just what I can see?”
“More on his legs and back—”
Reni’s voice cuts through the room, “you piece of shit. How could you do this to him? I thought you were supposed to be protecting him.”
“Reni. It’s fine. It was consensual—” Izz’s words are coiled in pain, and softly spoken. Sinn'ous’s temper threatens to burn back into existence, but his boy’s calm, collected response soothes him more than he’ll ever admit.
Consensual.
And it is. He makes a point of it being just that. Consensual.
Nothing done until Izz gives his consent. If he needs a push, and nudge to get to that, then that’s also what Sinn'ous will give.
“How the hell is that—” Reni gestures at Izz’s body “—consensual.”
“Reni, please leave.” Izz’s voice is strained by pain. “I’ll talk to you about it later.”
And the nurse backs Izz up. Interjecting with a professional dismissal.
“Jasper is correct. You are not helping in this situation. I’ll ask you to step out of the room or be escorted out.
” She has a tablet leaning against her hip.
And appears to be set in the frame of mind that gets her through the day working on criminals in a prison system that would shove her name under a rug if one of those inmates decided to get nasty.
Rape. Maim. Kill. And not strictly in that order.
Reni scowls at Sinn'ous but he does as the nurse professionally ordered, storming out of the room to wait in the corridor.
“Alright,” she takes a deep breath to ground herself, “I’m going to need him to undress so I can look over his entire body. If that’s okay with you. It will benefit his health to do so.”
In the end he gives his reluctant permission. He is good at cutting and killing, not at suturing and saving.
It’s straight forward from there. She works quickly and efficiently.
Izz’s stripped naked. Every injury is assessed by a clinical eye that doesn’t once snap to Sinn'ous in judgment.
Probably more to do with self-preservation than acceptance in what he does to his boy.
However, she does send Izz a few worried glances.
She runs over hygiene practices, cleaning the wounds correctly, while suturing the largest of the cuts. The dos and don’ts. Basic stuff that Sinn'ous knows, but still absorbs all the information regardless.
His boy is given pills. And Sinn'ous is given instructions on what to look for in case of infection, and to come back to medical if he’s showing prolonged signs of pain.
He sends Izz out into the corridor alone, because if he sees Reni he is going to kill him. And killing him in front of Izz will drastically decrease the trust he’s cemented into his boy. And he needs that trust for what comes next. When they are no longer stuck in Sandstone Correctional.