Where You Are

Disclaimer: Do I look like Minekura? Well... you I could for all you know... but that's not the point...

A door opens. Music pours into the alleyway and then is abruptly cut off as the door slams shut. All that can be heard through the thick steel door is the muffled thud of bass.

There is the sound of a match being lit, and the scent of sulfur fills the night air. The glowing tip of the lit cigarette is the only light in the alley. The streetlight at the end of it doesn't reach to where the door is, shrouding the owner of the cigarette in shadows.

"Fucking kids." He mutters. He hates all ages night. It's always that much rowdier than regular nights, plus he has to worry about carding everyone that looks even remotely young, which slows business down.

Kicking at the ground, his boot strikes a can, sending it clattering across the pavement, stopping suddenly when it strikes something else. A few droplets of rain start to fall as he finishes the cigarette, crushing it out on the brick wall of the building.

If someone asked him later, what had made him turn back to look out into the alley as he opened to the door to step inside, he wouldn't have been able to answer. Suffice to say that he did turn back, and the light from inside the club played over the body laying there.

There is a moment of disbelief as the garish strobe lights alternately illuminate and hide the fallen form. He quickly returns to his senses though, propping the door open and rushing to the person's side.

As he kneels there, a rush of déjà vu sweeps over him. He has been in this position before. He is sure of it. But that was impossible; he had never found someone lying in an alley before. He was sure he would remember it.

"Hey… are you all right?" He places a gentle hand on the man's back - he can tell now that it's a man - and rolls him slowly onto his back, supporting his neck.

Chills run down his spine as he sees the pool of blood that has gathered where the man lies. There is so much of it. He doesn't know how anyone can survive such an injury. The man's shirt is torn, and it reveals the split skin beneath it. A knife wound?

"Fuck!"

The handkerchief he pulls from his pocket is useless in his attempt to stem the flow of blood. Luck in the form of a co-worker appears.

"I thought you were just going for a quick smoke, hurry up, it's like a jungle in there…" His fellow bartender trails off as he sees what's going on.

"Holy shit…"

"That's what I said; call a fucking ambulance, now!"

The rain falls in earnest now, soaking the redheaded man to the skin as he tries to shelter the body that lies on the cold pavement. With his hand pressing against the victim's belly in a futile attempt to stop the blood flow, he does something he hasn't done in what seems like forever. He prays. He prays for this man that he doesn't know, in a situation that he feels like he has been in before.

He watches the man's face as he silently prays, and is rewarded now and then with a flash of green when the man's eyes open. Sirens fill the air, and red and white lights blind him as they light up the dark alley.

He is pushed out of the way as paramedics take over. He watches as the man is placed carefully and hurried to the waiting ambulance. Without a second though, he runs and climbs in, taking the man's cold hand in his.

"Never leave you…" He says softly under his breath, without knowing why he's said it. After all, how can he make a promise like that about someone he doesn't even know?

Days later when the man wakes up in the hospital, and he sees the redheaded man sleeping in the chair by his bed, somehow he is not surprised. A smile curves his lips before he slips back into sleep, faint words leaving his lips, "Found you…"

:END: