Leave Me Behind

Jenkins lies still; his neck is at an awkward angle and his breath is strangled. His blond hair is dyed red with blood and he’s beaten so terribly it threads sorrow into my heart. His teeth are bare on the left side where the knife tore through his flesh and his chest trembles weakly with the ounce of life he holds onto.

I brush his cheek gently with my fingertips, his eyes never leaving my face. They’re narrowed and fight to stay open.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” I say softly, like tucking a child into bed.

He coughs blood and gives me what looks like a small smile. “One last dance, you and me. It was fun while it lasted, Gallows. Can you”—he winces in pain and coughs again—“c-can you hum that stupid s-song for me?” He lifts his hand slowly and caresses his thumb delicately over my cheek.

I nod.

“Davy Jones” was always his favorite, perhaps because of the sad tune. Jenkins, my wicked, lonely soldier.

Our blood mixes as we bleed out next to each other. I hum and stroke his hair back softly until his eyes flutter closed.

My throat constricts as Bradshaw hands me a pistol and my tune sounds off as I press the cold steel to my lovely Jenkins’s temple.

“Do not cry for me, love. I wasn’t meant for this world. I am darkness… Thank you for showing me a splinter of the light.” His voice is a mere whisper.

“I love you, Jenkins,” I say with tears streaming down my cheeks. His eyes widen at my admittance and a smile unlike I’ve ever known curls his dry lips. He sets his hand on his left breast pocket and clutches it as if his heart aches.

Pop.

The sound reverberates through me.

Jenkins’s head is tilted to the side now, but his broken smile remains, and I let out a cry that will haunt me for the rest of time.

I crumble on Jenkins’s chest and wail. Why did everything have to come down to this? I slide my hand over his and feel something beneath it. Tears drip down as I gently move his hand and open his breast pocket. It’s a silver round music box with bunnies carved into it. My fingers are shaking so violently that it’s hard to get them to twist the key, but once I do, the same lullaby I hummed for him drums out softly. I lift the lid to the music box and a small note is carved into it.

To think of me when I’m away.

Gallows & Jenkins

I shut the music box and place it against my heart. Bradshaw lowers to my side and rests his hand on my shoulder. The touch brings me back into myself and the pain that spreads through my injuries makes my head bob wearily.

“I know,” Bradshaw whispers when I give him a broken look. “I know.”

He helps me up and we sway on our feet as we stare over all the death.

“Do we even want to go back?” I say absently. Part of me wants to stay here with the dead. And all go together into the night.

Bradshaw squeezes me a little tighter. “I’ll die here with you if it’s what you want, Bun.”

I look at him, our cheeks stained with blood and dried tears. Then I shake my head. “We should head to the extraction point… Otherwise, all this death was for nothing.”

He nods and we support each other as we limp toward the pick-up location.

After five minutes, we hear a chopper cutting through the night.

“We’re almost there,” Bradshaw whispers, kissing my temple.

A shout sounds behind us.

Eren? My eyes widen as I hear the faint shout once more.

Bradshaw heard it too and his face reanimates. We move as fast as we can and backtrack until we see two soldiers, one carrying the other.

“Eren?!” I shout, and my pain subsides as adrenaline rolls through me again. I recognize the man carrying him instantly. “Paul?” I knew he was good.

When we reach them, Bradshaw falls to his knees and desperately hugs his brother. My eyes fall to his legs. One is hardly still hanging on while the other is gone below the knee.

An ache pulses through my chest at the idea that we left him when he was still alive. My eyes meet Paul’s. “Thank you isn’t enough,” I choke out. Bradshaw clings to his brother helplessly and cries.

Paul smiles. “Let’s hurry up before any of you bleed out.” I nod and give him a painful hug. Paul made a tourniquet for Eren’s leg the best he could but he won’t last long like this. None of us will. “We need to get to the extraction before the chopper takes off.” Paul carries Eren as his consciousness dips in and out.

The three of us cry silently as we make it to the evacuation point. Paul keeps his grim expression as he pushes us on. More tears fall as the chopper descends and medical personnel come out to help us get on board. They aren’t from the dark forces. I assume they are Eren’s friends from his other endeavors. Harrison was saying he had Canadian allies just before he was hit.

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The chambers of my heart fill with grief as we leave Labrador. I shut my eyes and think of Jenkins’s last smile. I think of his bones that will forever rest here.

I press his music box tightly against my heart.

Bradshaw lost a lot of muscle mass while being wrapped up in the hospital. So did I, but it’s much more noticeable on him. He smiles as I step into his room. It’s only a few doors down from mine, so I sneak in here more often than I should.

“Is he still asleep?” I whisper, looking over at Eren’s bed. He’s sitting up and shoots me a glare. I let a laugh slip and he can’t keep his serious ruse up anymore.

“How could I possibly sleep with a bunny running rampant in this hospital?” Eren teases me. I shrug, knowing damn well that I’m much too noisy every time I come in here. But I can’t help it. I look from Eren’s bed to Bradshaw’s across the room and grin. He narrows his eyes and motions with his finger for me to come to him.

A few weeks in the hospital is too much for anyone. I get bored too easily to sit still this whole time. Paul parted ways with us when we got to Calgary. I wish I could thank him somehow, but his freedom seemed more than enough to him.

I set Eren’s mocha latte on his side table before bringing Bradshaw his.

“Ah, the simplicities of civilization,” Eren says as he sips his drink.

Bradshaw grins and takes a swig of his. “I have to admit, it’s pretty fucking nice. I could get used to it.” He pulls me onto his bed and I laugh.

“Careful, I’m still on bed rest too.” I wince at the stitches on my stomach and Bradshaw presses a kiss to my lips.

“Sorry, Bun. How can I make it up to you?” He raises a brow suggestively.

Eren chokes on his drink. “No. No. I will not be subjected to watch, not again!” He starts pressing the button for the nurse to check on him. “Help!”

Bradshaw breaks out laughing and I can’t help but join him. By the time the nurse comes to check, Eren is throwing his pillows across the room to keep us from kissing each other.

In the madness and laughter, Bradshaw whispers against my ear, “Promise me forever, Bun. You’re where my sanity starts.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“You are where mine ends.”