The wind was still flowing through the room, stronger than ever, as Tyler coughed and choked, desperately trying to regain some sense. His hands were trembling now and he felt drained, as if all power, all life had seeped right through his pores and disappeared into thin air. But Tyler knew it wasn't over, he knew he had to focus.
Gathering the remaining strength in his mind, he balled his hands into fists and, after glancing behind him to Josh's limp body, the pain in his heart threatening to break out into desperate sobs, he took a few steps towards the immediate menace: the four men lying on the floor, scattered across the room. Dust flew around with each of Tyler's steps, and the knot in his throat tightened at the thought of Josh. But he had to take care of the bad guys before anything else, just to make sure they wouldn't cause any more harm than they had already.
Crouching down besides the first body, Tyler made sure he was still breathing but completely passed out. Surprised of his own strength - after all, he had never kicked a man unconscious with the sole force of his mind before - he sighed and started pulling him by the arms. Such a pity his physical strength didn't equal at least half of his kinetic abilities.
A few minutes later, he had reached the far wall of the room, where the other three bodies were lying, just as unconscious. A trail was now visible all across the room where Tyler had dragged the body, and the young boy slided the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping the sweat out of his face. He then rushed to the nearest desk, hoping to find something, anything, to tie down the men together so they couldn't move, tripping over something before he even reached his destination.
Tyler gulped, slowly picking up the object that had caused his fury with still trembling hands. The metal was cold against his skin, slightly refreshing as he set his index finger on the trigger. Looking up at the motionless bodies near him, Tyler wondered what it would feel like to just pull it, and his hand raised, pointing the gun at the one who had previously used it.
To think it was easy, just so easy, to take someone's life, was triggering and intoxicating all at the same time. The power Tyler held in his right hand was soothing in a way, but oh so scary, and briefly his finger pulled just enough to make the trigger move, but not enough to bring it all the way back. And then, finally, a cuss word escaped his lips as Tyler realized he didn't actually need this tool to bring death into a room.
He was the tool.
Quickly, a gasp escaping his lips, he rushed to his original destination and opened the first drawer of the desk, throwing the gun into it like one would throw a chewing gum into a bin, closing the drawer as fast as he could. He then leaned on the dusty desk, inhaling slowly, exhaling deeply, trying to get rid of that burning ache in his chest. Then, an image flashed behind his eyelids, and he found himself opening the drawer again.
And there, behind the gun, was a large roll of super-adhesive tape. What were the chances? Tyler didn't know, but he had spent the last sixteen years getting used to it. Good things would always happen to him when he least expected it, and tonight seemed to be one of them - if he could see past the four gangsters and his two friends lying unconscious on the other side of the room, that is.
Determined, Tyler took out the tape and proceeded carefully to tie the four guys down. At some point, one of them opened his eyes and mumbled something about his mom and Tyler, surprised, decided it would be a nice idea to punch him right in the nose just to make him sleep a little longer, reminding himself a little late that he had never thrown a punch before and he had no idea how to do it properly. It is with his hand blue and more swollen than the guy's face that he finally skipped back to his friends.
Approaching them on the other side of the room, Tyler glanced at Mark, almost peacefully unconscious but breathing slowly, his back against the wall, then crouched down to his best friend's side, the knot in his throat making a Hollywood come-back.
"Oh, Josh," he whispered as his hands reached the back of Josh's neck. He closed his eyes, trying not to let the tears flow out, but they were already digging their way onto his cheeks. "Josh, come on..." Tyler pleaded, "Please wake up..."
Tilting his head down, taking a deep breath, Tyler finally decided to open his eyes. Josh, just like Mark, seemed peacefully asleep. With trembling hands, the boy patted his best friends chest, and arms, and stomach, searching for any gunshot wound and praying the Lord he had managed to divert the bullet's trajectory.
"What happened?"
Tyler jumped, a small gasp escaping his lips as he realized his best friend had just woken up in his arms. Instantly, the boy reached out and hugged Josh. No matter how disorientated Josh felt, he needed to know that Tyler was sorry.
"What are you sorry for, man?" Josh asked, hugging Tyler a little tighter, a nervous laugh escaping his lungs. "You just... You saved my life."
And that's the moment Tyler chose to burst into tears. There were plenty of things Tyler was sorry for, but saving Josh was not one of them, and he held onto his friend for a little longer, feeling his chest move in sync with his own breathing to make sure he was alive and well.
"What happened, bro?" Josh thought, because for some reason, in moments like this, thinking was easier than actually voicing the words. "Are you okay?"
Tyler sighed one last time against Josh, and then broke the embrace to look him in the eye. "You passed out when I... The guy almost shot you and I... All my energy kind of -" Tyler didn't know how to say it. He wasn't even sure what had happened exactly. "All my energy went into that bullet that was about to hit you and I think I diverted it but it created some sort of implosion and the whole room was swept... You all passed out."
"Where's the police? They should be here any minute now, right?" Josh asked, looking up to Tyler. The boy stayed strangely silent, and it only took a few more seconds for Josh to understand. There was no police. "How did you-"
Tyler shrugged, his finger pointing to his temple. It all came from there. Josh opened his mouth, surprised but not that much. He had always sensed Tyler was much stronger than he thought, and he could feel that the extent of his powers was a thing he was still uncomfortable talking about. So instead of digging deeper, figuring that would happen later, when everyone would finally be safe and sound, Josh changed the subject. "How's Mark?"
Tyler shrugged again. "Passed out just like you but he looks f-"
A sudden wheeze, coming from right behind them, made the boys jump in surprise, and Josh sat up, before quickly raising to his feet at the sight of Mark, still leaning against the wall, but just a little more pale. The young boy coughed harshly and obviously winced in pain as the other two crouched down next to him. Without a sound, he placed a hand on his right side, where the pain had just come from before his eyes shot wide open. "Wh-" he started, his voice getting caught in his throat.
"Oh my God, Tyler-" Josh suddenly exclaimed.
But Tyler couldn't. He couldn't look. He couldn't breathe. The dizziness clouding his mind made him lose balance as Josh started shouting instructions, his hands pressing on Mark's stomach. But Tyler couldn't hear. All he could do was watch the blood, thick and red, so red, ooze from the wound he had caused.
He had caused this.
The thoughts swirled, eating him from the inside. He had caused this.
He had caused the blood and the hurt, and maybe - his stomach churned at the thought - death. And Tyler knew he would never forgive himself if that happened. Yet he stood there, motionless, and Josh's face contorted in fright and pain and anger as he kept shouting and shouting and shouting and sh-
"TYLER FRICKIN' JOSEPH! WAKE UP! NOW!" his best friend screamed at him, and Tyler's hands started trembling as he crouched down.
"The bullet- The bullet must have- I diverted it but I didn't-" he stuttered. "I didn't mean to- I didn't want this Josh, I'm s-"
"It doesn't matter right now, Tyler, okay?" Josh shouted in response, obviously not wanting to hear any apologies. He probably hated Tyler now. "You need to DO something now or..."
"he's losing too much blood"
"Please, Tyler..."
"don't let him die"
"Do something, help me..."
"he's gonna die on me if you don't"
"I know you can do something. I know you can. I can feel it so please..."
"I can't do anyth-" Tyler finally spoke, his voice low and trembling.
"Yes, you can, Tyler! Remember The Green Mile? You can do this."
"I've never tried!" Tyler retorted, but with each passing second, his conscience was falling apart.
"Then TRY NOW! You've made a frickin MESS and now you're gonna MAKE UP FOR IT OKAY?"
Silence.
Tyler and Josh looked straight into each other's eyes for a second, their mouth nor their mind saying a single thing. Then, finally, Tyler gulped, wiped the last tears at the corner of his eyes, and balled his hands into fists to take in a deep breath. Slowly, he approached Mark on his knees and, avoiding Josh's gaze, pressed both of his hands on the wound, right above Josh's own hands. With a swift movement of the head, he told Josh to remove his pressure.
In a matter of seconds, Tyler's hands had turned red. Not able to stand the view, Tyler closed his eyes. And he focused, channeling the energy through his fingertips and hoping for the best. He was ready.
He had no choice but to be ready.
Ready to save a life.
Ready to lose a friend.
Josh hated him, now.
|-/|-/|-/
Breathe, guys. Josh is alive.
Next update will be on YCTIO because Empathy got two updates in a row.
Please leave your thoughts in the comments, I always appreciate them - and do vote for the chapter if you feel like it!