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Post by tarquin finley ellis on Nov 27, 2012 12:20:26 GMT -5
There was very little he could do at this point aside from what he'd been told -- get Connor back to his room and be in the hospital again by morning -- and he decided not to go far from that sort of thing. Plus, the sooner this whole thing was over the better, in Quinn's opinion. Getting beat on so soon from waking probably wasn't a really good idea to begin with, and he had enough issues to sort out in his head. It was hard enough to focus on everything that had happened, so for now Quinn tried to push the thoughts of what he'd heard away.
He needed to get Connor back to that room. At the answer to his question of where it was, Quinn nodded and groaned a little as he got up, lifting the winged male as well. He felt sore already, but first thing was first. Getting Connor back to the ward. Walking slowly and carefully this time to not alert any staff, he carried the winged male in the direction he was told, finding the third door in the next ward and opening it up in a fumbling sort of manner. Then he went in, feeling very awkward about setting Connor on the bed -- where else should he put the male? -- and then he searched around for something to clean the male up with and proceeded to do that without a word.
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connor crayze sykes
Mutation
Wings.
Why do we sacrifice our beautiful souls...?[RS:1]
Posts: 683
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Post by connor crayze sykes on Nov 28, 2012 1:00:27 GMT -5
Connor attempted to brush Quinn off from cleaning him up, but he was disoriented and just sat there in a daze. One thing that lingered in his mind more than just having the crap beat out of him was what Quinn had said before attempting overdose. Or a heart attack, or whatever he had been doing. And that was about his brother's death. Connor had left that part out. He had rambled enough, but he didn't want to tell the other male about the last straw that drove him to suicide. He couldn't do that. Because he knew how it felt. But unlike Connor, Quinn had a chance to start fresh.
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Post by tarquin finley ellis on Nov 28, 2012 1:15:08 GMT -5
Quinn didn't allow Connor to actually brush him off, just needing for now to clean the winged male off of blood and such. There was just that, nothing more to it. He tries not to think about what had been said, though the words do stillt umble through his head as he moves. Going through the motions just now, that was all. Once Connor was cleaned off of blood and such -- obviously only the parts he could see, since Quinn had no interest in taking any of the male's clothes off -- Quinn put the cloth down and stepped back with a little sigh.
With that done and his mind not focused on anything in particular anymore, he found his mind wandering again. "I don't think that it would be good for either of us to be around each other when you are acting like this from using and everything..." The words were calm and even, and Quinn had to say it. He didn't want to be in that kind of situation again; what had just occured today. He wanted a new start, and for whatever guilt he felt over the situation with Connor, he knew that being around each other with the winged male prone to acting as he had today wasn't good for either of them.
He looked away with a little shrug, feeling sore still from the beatings and knowing that Connor must be feeling worse; or would be if not so drugged up. "I'm sorry for the things I've done, the way I treated you before, I really am." He added, then turned and went to the door and opened it up. Right before leaving, he glanced back at the male. "Oh, and Connor? That thing about me deserving better? I think we both know that's bullshit. Doesn't really matter what the real reason is, though. I'm not interested." The words were quiet, and then he left the room, shutting the door. Then he went to find some staff to take him back to the ICU room.
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connor crayze sykes
Mutation
Wings.
Why do we sacrifice our beautiful souls...?[RS:1]
Posts: 683
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Post by connor crayze sykes on Nov 28, 2012 1:23:58 GMT -5
Connor listened, then raised his head before Quinn could get out without hearing. "It's n-not bullshit.. I-I'll let you thr-row me 'way like this... But I'll n-never tell you what put y-you over the edge.... Go f-find your happy, it's not h-here." Tears formed in his eyes, spilled over. Sure, he still wanted a friend. But the gentle words were letting Quinn go. Quinn needed somebody who wasn't such a big problem. He needed Makism back. And Connor hoped the way he'd told Quinn things, the things he'd left out, would give the other boy a fighting chance. Connor sure as hell didn't have one, with anything.
He got up after the door closed, wiping at his cheeks as he stumbled to the bathroom and climbed into the empty tub with a razor. From there he began to work at his arms, criss crossing gashes until it became a mindless action, consitant. Then his hips, ankle, pelvis. Every gash, every whimper, Connor told himself he deserved it all.
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