![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Nov. 14th, 2004 01:23 amOuch, ouch, ouch.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He doesn't have any tools for this; the sink in the bathroom runs red with blood and pieces of glass and damn it, this is his right hand.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. The water stings. But he knows he can't stop until all the glass is out, and there was a lot of it.
At least the part of him that didn't drink the triple-shot of whiskey knows that. The other part is a little less concerned, a little more fatalistic. That part wants to sit on the edge of the bed and have a smoke before tearing up Andy's shirt and making it into bandage-sized strips.
But it's the first part -- the aware part, the hurting part -- that wiggles fingers, testing for damage, testing for pain, testing for numbness. Flex, extend, don't mind the blood, ouch, dammit, there's another piece of glass. When that part's done playing medic, they'll do the bandage thing.
Spike wishes more than anything that Beth was here. He's not even sure if he's going to see her again, now that she's seen his temper at work. And that was just mild, nothing to speak of.
He wants more than anything to have Beth there. Cradling his hand gently, he manages to open the closet door and pull out Andy's shirt and, with his teeth, begins tearing it into strips.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He doesn't have any tools for this; the sink in the bathroom runs red with blood and pieces of glass and damn it, this is his right hand.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. The water stings. But he knows he can't stop until all the glass is out, and there was a lot of it.
At least the part of him that didn't drink the triple-shot of whiskey knows that. The other part is a little less concerned, a little more fatalistic. That part wants to sit on the edge of the bed and have a smoke before tearing up Andy's shirt and making it into bandage-sized strips.
But it's the first part -- the aware part, the hurting part -- that wiggles fingers, testing for damage, testing for pain, testing for numbness. Flex, extend, don't mind the blood, ouch, dammit, there's another piece of glass. When that part's done playing medic, they'll do the bandage thing.
Spike wishes more than anything that Beth was here. He's not even sure if he's going to see her again, now that she's seen his temper at work. And that was just mild, nothing to speak of.
He wants more than anything to have Beth there. Cradling his hand gently, he manages to open the closet door and pull out Andy's shirt and, with his teeth, begins tearing it into strips.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
