The first 30 minutes were fine. Blaise had pressed the alarm button; there wasn't much else he could do. He was in a hospital, a broken elevator wouldn't escape anyone's attention. But after that first half hour... the unrest started to creep under his skin. He sat on the ground, feeling positively frozen because of his wet clothes, but tried not to show it to the Warrior.
The guy was sitting in the opposite corner. At first he had been busy on his phone, now he seemed to get bored as well.
"What's your name?" Blaise asked after a while.
The silence felt suffocating. Having a normal conversation with the guy might help him to feel less locked up, less antsy.
"Why?" the other huffed. "You think you and me are gonna be friends now?"
Blaise rolled his eyes and stared at the floor. I guess not.
Well then, they would stay quiet for another hour.
. . .
After one hour, their situation hadn't changed. His elevator buddy had called someone who was in the hospital and people were working on it, but nobody could estimate how long it would take.
Blaise tried to banish all negative thoughts. He failed – after all, there wasn't much he could do but think. He had been playing games on his phone for an hour, but his battery was getting low and he had no idea how long they would be stuck in here. He thought of all the news reports he had read. About people who had been locked up for days, who had only survived by drinking urine. What was driving him even crazier, was the fact that they didn't know what was wrong with the elevator. What if one of the cables had broken? What if the other couldn't bear the weight and would break too? They would crash. He knew it was all in his head, but he was sure he heard something crack.
His breathing became deeper, more laborious. Suddenly his temples started to sting. Oh god – not a panic attack, not now... He rubbed his face, trying to concentrate on other things. He failed; all he could think of was that he would be hyperventilating like some idiot. The Warrior would know how weak he was. Soon, the whole Bridgewater charter would know that he had lost his mind because of a freaking broken elevator. They would drag him off his bike, take him to some remote place and torture him until he had confessed all club secrets.
But maybe they would never get that far. Maybe they would crash down and die, or maybe they would die of thirst. He hadn't taken anything with him, and neither had the Warrior. And even if he had, he probably wouldn't share it with a Fox anyway.
He could barely breathe. He sat up straighter, tried to imagine that he was alone, that he wasn't stuck in a shitty elevator, that he... He squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths. It felt like not a bit of oxygen reached his lungs, as if there was a stone stuck in his throat.
He started to sweat, while his nails scraped across the floor of the elevator.
"Hey. What's going on? Hey!"
A hand on his knee, for a very brief moment.
"You havin' a panic attack?"
Blaise wasn't able to answer; he felt lightheaded. He could already feel the elevator falling down. Soon they would hit the ground and get crushed.
"Hey, look at me."
Blaise did as he was told, glad someone told him what to do. Before he got lost in his head, before he would suffocate, before...
"Deep, slow breaths. Okay? Tell me what color my eyes are."
What?! What kind of question was that?!
He got scared when he noticed that he couldn't even see the guy's eyes. It felt like there was a thick fog in between them. Was there something on fire? He took a deep breath, but he couldn't remember the smell of fire.
"Concentrate." Again, he felt a small bump against his knee.
Blaise squinted his eyes to slits. Slowly, the fog cleared, his glance becoming sharper.
"Brown," he muttered. "Brown like coffee beans."
His voice made him cringe. What was he, a baby? Man – he felt so embarrassed he didn't even dare to look at the other anymore. The pressure on his chest returned. Shakily, he breathed in.
"What's your name?" the man asked.
Blaise shrugged, still staring at the ground. His cheeks flushed in shame.
"I'm Raine," the biker told him.
"Blaise," he muttered.
"Okay, listen Blaise. This is temporary, okay? Within an hour or two we can leave this elevator. We're in a hospital, they have hundreds of emergency protocols for this. We're lucky we're both healthy people. It's a matter of hours, but we can survive in here for at least three days."
"I know," Blaise muttered. He did know. In his head. But his body – it felt like his brain couldn't convince his body, as if it was leading a life of its own.
"Here, this helps."
Blaise looked to the side. Raine held out something colorful. As he took it, he was surprised to see that it was a Rubik's Cube.
A little dazed he stared at the Warrior, who lifted the corner of his mouth. Suddenly he didn't look that harsh anymore. Blaise felt his shoulders relax and started to turn the cube. Keeping his hands busy; he knew that would help. Getting a row of the same color.
For at least fifteen minutes the Rubik's Cube was all he thought about – then he became aware of Raine's presence again. Lowering his hands, he cocked his head to the side. He didn't want to look like some autistic kid.
"How did you know what to do?"
He'd had panic attacks before. Most people, however, didn't know how to deal with them; they freaked out too, or told him he was upset about nothing or that everything would be fine.
Raine made eye contact with him for a moment, as if he was wondering if he wanted to share something personal or not. "My lil sister has them too," he said eventually. "Panic attacks. The cube always helps her, that's why I'm going nowhere without one."
Blaise bowed his head in shame. He had reminded the guy of his little sister. How humiliating. No Warrior would ever take him seriously again. His fingers were trembling. Whether it was because of the cold, or because the panic was rising up again, he didn't know.
"Why are you here?" Blaise asked. Talking usually helped; he just needed to distract himself. Raine had to know that too. Maybe he could even find out if the Warriors had something to do with the attack on Barnes. "Norwich isn't exactly around the corner."
"My sister lives around here. I was visiting her."
Blaise looked up from the puzzle, feeling a strange sensation in his stomach as he caught the man's look. He looked... defeated.
"Because of her panic attacks?"
Raine shook his head. He rubbed his hand across his stubbly jaw and studied Blaise's face, as if he was wondering how much it would hurt to open up. "That's my youngest sister. She's suffering from anxiety since mom died, seven years ago, but since last year it became ten times worse." Dropping his head down, he stared at the floor. "My other sister has breast cancer. Like my mom had. It's metastasized. Twenty-seven. She's twenty-seven, and she probably won't live another year."
Blaise swallowed. Fuck – that was some heavy shit.
"That's horrible," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. Is there no chance that she will... you know?"
Raine heaved a deep sigh. "Nope."
Blaise bent his head again. Knowing that the other man struggled with something so heavy while he was freaking out because of a stupid elevator, made him feel disgusted with himself.
"Sammy... my youngest sister... She isn't just afraid to lose her sister; she's also scared she will get sick too. There's a good chance she will. They're monitoring her, but well – Rosa was monitored too."
The tone of his voice told Blaise that Sammy wasn't the only one who was scared of that; Raine was obviously also terrified to lose another family member to that fucking disease.
"You got more sisters? Or brothers?" Blaise asked. He didn't know how to elaborate on their former topic, but he didn't want to be silent.
"No, it's just the three of us. Rosa does have a two year old daughter. The girl never knew her dad; he was an asshole." He moved his fingers across his phone and turned the screen towards Blaise. There was a little girl on it, holding a giant soft serve on a cone. Her smile was wide and infectious, making Blaise's lips curl up too. "That's Sasha."
His voice sounded proud; something gave Blaise the feeling he would be the one taking care of the little girl once her mother was gone – or maybe he was already caring for her. He, however, didn't dare to ask.
Raine turned the screen off and briefly looked at Blaise. It was indeed a little weird, watching family pictures of a guy he'd wanted to hold at gunpoint, just a while ago. However, he believed little children softened every heart.
"Why are you here?" Raine asked after a while.
Blaise had been focused on the Rubik's Cube again, but the question made him look up. He didn't really need the puzzle anymore; he had calmed down. "One of my brothers was shot two days ago. We don't know who did it."
He bit the inside of his cheek. Damn – why did he have to tell him that? Now they looked like a bunch of dumbasses.
Raine held his glance. "You thought I was going to finish the job?"
Blaise shrugged his shoulders. They probably both lived this life long enough to know the answer. "You could've."
Maybe he still could. For all he knew, the guy might had made up that story about his sister.
"Is it bad?"
Blaise hesitated. He didn't know how much he could tell him and whether it would endanger Barnes if he told him more. At the same time, he believed the damage was already done. Without a doubt, they had their own hacker who could simply look into the hospital files to see how badly injured his brother was.
"He was shot in the chest, his lung was perforated. He's stable, but he can't leave yet."
Raine nodded slowly. Moving his hand to his pocket, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out, offering it to Blaise.
"Smoking in a hospital?" Blaise asked with raised eyebrows.
The man shrugged, a hint of a smile crossing his lips. "Nobody else's gonna use this elevator anytime soon. Smell will be gone by tomorrow."
Blaise didn't disagree. He sat up a little straighter, pulling at his clammy shirt that was sticking to his back. To be honest, he was dying for a cigarette. So he took one from the box, lighting it.
As he sighed, the smoke slipped out from between his lips. He leaned back against the wall of the elevator. Contrary to the moment they got stuck in the elevator, Blaise was now relieved that he wasn't alone.
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