.:x:.B.roken A.nd D.ying.:x:.

[.:x:.A.rtemis.:x:.]

Colt walked through the parking lot of the apartment building and stopped at his door. He shuffled through his pockets, cursing violently when he realized that he'd gaven his keys to Amy. He jumped off the stairs and grabbed a rock with his one good hand and smashed it through the window on the front door of the apartment. He reached in and unlocked it, shuffling inside. His right hand was broken, and the bone stuck out gruesomely, but he hadn't noticed yet, he was still nursing his broken heart and his wounded pride. he'd walked about twelve miles through the freezing rain and hail, in nothing but his flimsy t-shirt and wranglers. He had given Amy his jacket, and hadn't even thought to ask for it back. In fact, he wasn't thinking at all, he was reacting on old, familiar animal instincts that had guided him when he was in bad shape before. Now he wasn't just in bad shape though, he was in terrible shape. He locked the door behing him when he walked in, which was pretty much pointless and then walked to his room, his muddy Justin brand boots leaving large footprints the whole way. He peeled of his shirt and jeans and laid down on his bed, his midsection covered by his boxers. He wasn't cold, though he should be, he didn't know that his hand was demolished and gushing blood, he only knew that Amy was engaged to someone that wasn't him, in love with someone that wasn't him. He remembered now, she had said something when she ran after him, what was it? He couldn't remember, he hadn't been able to hear her well through the pounding rain and the slow, rythmic beat of his heart. The sound almost drown him now as it sped up, trying to make up for all the blood he'd already lost. Suddenly, his adrenline slowed and unconciousness from the blood loss claimed him. The last thing he remebered was Amy's haunted eyes as she ran after him. What had she said?

[.:x:.A.rtemis.:x:.]

That was how they found him eight hours later. Half-naked on blood soaked sheets and dead to the world. Tex was the first to walk into the room, Novalle had stayed the night with a friend and Tex had come in considerably late, much later than Colt and he hadn't even given a thought to the trail of blood or the broken window. When he woke up it was as if he saw the large pools of blood and mud for the first time. He almost paniced as he raced through the house, running towards Colts room. The sight that awaited him almost caused him to lose the last thing he ate, but not because of the blood, but because of who it was that was bleeding. He'd seen Colt jump into bullets, get smashed in the head with a chair, attacked by guys with knives, but never, never had he been so afraid that his best friend was a goner. Immediatly he flew to the bedside and started shaking Colt vigorously, but there was no result. Tex soon regained his senses as he reached down to check for a pulse. He was alive. He was breathing. Tex tore out of the room and called the doctor, relieved when he said that he was on his way. Then tex ran back in and took Colts wet t-shirt and tore a long strip from it, he tied to tightly to his wrist, above the broken hand and all the cuts. Hopefully, it would stop the blood flow. He waited unpatiently and paced the room as he waited for the doctor. What should have been minutes, seemed to be hours. He checked his watch every second as he watched his best friend, the man that had protected him from life itself, grow fainter and fainter.

[.:x:.A.rtemis.:x:.]

The doctor rushed in after what seemed like hours. Tex watched him through eyes that were helpless and scared. The doctor knelt over Colt, checking him quickly and professionally, he began muttering things as he examined the hand. Bones stuck out gruesomely in more than one place. He cursed as he grabbed his bag and filled a syringe with a thick white liquid. He injected it in his thigh and stopped the blood flow with a gauze pad. He untied the strip that Tex had ripped from the shirt and laid it aside. He then began rearanging the bones that had popped out of place, when he finished he drowned the hand in a bowl of water and cleaned all the blood off, the he spplied even pressure until the bleeding stopped. When it finished, he wrapped the hand in gauze and casted it in a hard plaster cast. Once the plaster was dried he wrapped it in a tan bandage and straightened up. He looked at Tex, who stood soberly a few feet away. He reached in his bag one last time and gave Colt another drug from the syringe, he'd be awake, soon. He'll be okay, call me if he expierences any dizziness or nausia. he spoke in a deep, authorative tone and then turned and walked out of the door, feeling uncomfortable as long as Tex's hard gray eyes were bearing a whole in his head.