Vince had left, with the caveat that they lay low and not answer should anyone call or knock. Not long after leaving, Sayuri had announced that she was going to shower off the blood, but Nick only gave a slight nod. It wasn’t until after she had closed the door to the bathroom that he allowed himself to break down. It wasn’t a burst of tears or anything like that, but more of a resting his elbow on his knees and placing his face in the palm of his hands as he tried to keep himself together.
The gunshot wounds stung like hell, but at least there were no bullets lodged inside him. He’d been shot at before, and had been winged by bullets before as well, but this time he hadn’t been wearing armor, so it stung a bit more, or at least it seemed to. Tears came not long after – not many, but a few. They were tears of frustration, and of fear. Frustrated because his life kept taking unexpected turns, and fear because things seemed to be beginning to spiral downward. Fear because, at this rate, he didn’t know if he’d end up making it to his next birthday.
Some light tremors began to start, and he felt the shortness of breath begin, all signs of an attack oncoming. Normally, Chase was there to help him, but now he had no Chase, and didn’t even know what had happened to his dog – one more thing to add to the fear category. Just another thing on the heap. A few, steadying breaths later, he was doing a little better – no more physical signs, at least. His body calmer, he worked on steadying his breath to the best of his ability, and tried to meditate, as Charles had taught him.
When his mind was a tad clearer, he began processing everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. There was the…rather intense escapade with Brandon, which now felt as though it were ages ago. He still didn’t know how to process what had happened there, the mixture of pleasure, fear, and desire that went with that. There were the conflicted thoughts that consent technically hadn’t been given, but he hadn’t really complained either – so was it a big deal or not.
The horrified look on his sister’s face after he’d killed those demon hound pups. He doubted if she, or anyone else really, would understand that he saw it no different from diffusing mines so that no one got hurt. Just because something wasn’t a danger now, didn’t mean it wouldn’t become one; all the more reason to be rid of it, especially if you knew the tendencies ahead of time. Then of course, there was the killing of at least two more that night, three, as far as he knew, though Vince had cast doubt on that last one.
How does one handle torture? That is what he had faced earlier in the evening, and though he didn’t know how well he could handle it, he felt like Sayuri would have been able to handle far less than he himself could. He’d tried his damndest to point them Kauffman’s way, but it couldn’t be helped that they’d seen through the lies. He sure as hell wasn’t about to give up Brandon, and neither did he want to throw Endrik, Charles or Vince under the bus. They’d managed to escape, though not without injury, Nick himself sustaining substantial damage for the second time that day, only now there was no one to heal him. There was, too, the fact that Vince was now involved. Not something he had wanted, but he didn’t know who else to contact; who else could help.
That was anywhere from four to eight different things weighing heavily on his mind, just from one day, depending on how you looked at things. Add to that the guilt he carried from the death of Jeremy and his family, and he wondered how in the hell he was managing to not drink steadily. Gods, he wanted something now – a drink, a pill…anything to numb up and not think or feel for a while. The only thing stopping him from getting up and rifling through Vince’s fridge was that he didn’t want to deal with the potential that Vince might get pissed about a missing beer or something. Neither did he have pills.
Charles could help, though. He should contact him anyway, to let him know he was alright, especially since Charles likely encountered who knows what sort of scene. Vince had said they could make calls – so he may have to do just that. Who else would he call, anyway? His parents? Sister? Ryan or Alyssa? He’d only worry them if they didn’t already know. And if they did? He could ask Charles to inform Ryan, who could inform the others. The thought that Charles could help him sort himself together helped enough that he was able to straighten back up before leaning against the back of the chair.
Certainly, too, Brandon should be contacted. But he had no idea how to do that – only Billy knew how to contact him, and it might be dangerous to head out that way. Vince would have to be asked to let Brandon know, more than likely. Nick steepled his fingers, trying to think of what he could do right now, aside from contacting Charles, and came up short. With a sigh he closed his eyes, waiting to make sure he was alright enough to make that call.