Halo slowly opens his eyes, groaning in pain. Thatcher… Thatcher was hear. He leans into Thatchers touch, He jostles weakly at the binding that keeps him down. Halo felt relief, smiling despite the gag that kept him quiet. Thatcher was here.
Thatcher took the gag from Halo’s mouth, taking a moment to press his lips to Halo’s. “It’s okay, don’t try to move. I’ll get you out of this,” he said softly.
"Thatcher…" he croaks, the moment the gag is removed. He kisses the other back, and nods. "O-okay." He whimpers softly, his body aching. He smiles weakly at Thatcher.
Thatcher gave Halo’s lips another peck before leaning down. He picked up his scythe, glancing towards the door before he began to cut the binds on Halo’s arms.
Halo watches Thatcher work, biting his lip a little as fear coursed through his veins. They could be back any second now.
Thatcher gets on of Halo’s arms free, then began to work on the other. He couldn’t believe that this happened. He shouldn’t have left Halo alone in the house.
Halo raises his arm, trying to regain feeling. "Th-thatcher… " He whispers, carefully looking at the other, he could see red splotches that he didn't notice before. "You're bleeding…" He manages.
Thatcher looked down and nodded a bit. Now that he completely acknowledged them, they hurt like hell. “I was shot, but I’ll be fine,” he said, getting Halo’s other arm free.
Halo bites his lip, fear etching through him. "Thatcher…" He whispers. He had to get them out of here. Thatcher could bleed to death. He felt so weak, so tired. He shuts his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing.
Thatcher eventually got Halo’s legs free. He helped Halo up, his arm around the angels waist. “What did they do to you?” He asked.
Halo looks up weakly as he's freed. He leans against Thatcher. "We… we ned to get out of here." He croaks. He shuts his eyes, barely managing to walk.
Thatcher nodded his head slowly, thinking that they would talk about it later. He supported almost all of Halo’s weight as he made his way to the doors to the hallway.
Halo groans a little in pain, his wings fluttering uselessly. Blood stained the once white feathers crimson. He looks up, seeing security guards running towards them. His eyes widen in fear.
Thatcher tesnsed when he saw the men. “Stay here, I won’t let them touch you,” he murmured to Halo, leaning him up against a wall. He shifted his grip on his scythe as the men approached, glancing over one last time to make sure Halo was safe. The first man got in distance, and his scythe jerked through the air, slicing through his stomach. It was the first time Thatcher had ever broken the code and killed without the authorization to, and he knew there would be hell to pay.
Halo watches with wide eyes. His trembling fingers grasp raise towards Thatcher. He had to do something. He takes one of his feathers, he hadn't done this before, but this was his best shot. He shrieks when he's handled roughly, a dagger placed at his neck. "Thatcher!" Doctor Dorovack smirks. "That's enough." He growls at Thatcher, "Or I run this one through. Put the scythe down."
Thatcher jerks around to look at the man who is holding Halo. He breathed a bit heavily, looking at his scythe for a moment. His one weakness, the thing that can truly kill him. He looked back at Halo and the man, jaw clenched tightly. He slowly lowered the scythe, setting it on the ground. “I put it down, let Halo go,” he said in a cautious tone.
Dr. Dorovack watches with narrowed eyes as Thatcher places the scythe down, tightening his grip on Halo. "What are you?" He growls, and Halo squeaks when he feels the knife dig into his skin. He bites his lip, grimacing a little. "Th-thatcher…" He whispers breathlessly. He had to do something… He had to fight… but the dagger was to close for comfort.
“I’m.. A Reaper,” Thatcher answered. He straightened a bit, but he was beginning to feel tired. He glanced down at the blood dripping onto the floor from his wounds. It wouldn’t kill him, but he would still be effected like any other person. He looked back up at the man, then gave Halo a look.
Dr. Dorovick smiles. "That wasn't so hard. Now…" He pauses, sensing Halo's movements. He chuckles, "Ah, ah, Halo. You mustn't do that." He chuckles, pressing the knife against his skin. Halo goes still from trying to reach a feather. He looks at Thatcher. "G-go…" He whispers.
“I’m not leaving here without Halo,” Thatcher said, a slight growl in his tone. Hell, he would die here before he left Halo alone in this place. He glanced back down the hall, wondering where Nike was.
Halo begs silently with Thatcher. He gulps softly before looking at the doctor. He takes a steadying breath and quickly steps on the doctors foot. He cries out, releasing Halo. He spreads his wings, forcing the doctor back. He cries out when his wing is glazed by the knife but glares at the doctor.
Thatcher moved quickly, grabbing Halo and pulling him towards him. He held Halo close, not even thinking about picking up his scythe. All he could care about was Halo right now.
Halo holds onto Thatcher with fear. "We need to get out of here." He whispers, glaring at the doctor as he tries to get up. He looks at Thatcher, smiling a little. "I'm glad you came for me." He whispers. He turns around, taking a shuddering breath. He holds the feather, and it turns into a long dagger. He could rarely do this, but he had to. He threw it, hitting the doctor square in the chest.
Thatcher’s eyes widened a tad when the feather dagger stuck into the man’s chest. He now picked up his scythe, gripping it tightly. He wrapped his arm around Halo, supporting his weight as he walked quickly to the exit.
Halo follows Thatcher, smiling when they reached sunlight. He gives a relieved sigh. "Now we just need to get home…" He muttered, looking around in a panic. He glances at Thatcher. "Are you okay?" He whispers.
Thatcher began to walk, glancing around to see if he could spot Nike. He looked over at Halo now, then down at his bleeding stomach. “I will be fine. I just need to stop the blood flow, I don’t feel too good.”
Halo nods. "I don't think we're to far from home…" He whispers, looking around. There has to be some sort of vehicle or something to help them.
“We aren’t far. I’ll get you home, don’t worry. Just try not to move too much,” Thatcher told Halo. He eventually thought that helping Halo walk would take too long, and he opted for picking the smaller male up instead.
Halo nods, squeaking when he's picked up. He holds onto Thatcher tiredly. He sighs and nuzzles into Thatchers neck, feeling exhausted and weak.
Thatcher held Halo close to his chest, beginning to walk the way that he came. “Try and rest, we can talk about what happened when you’re starting to feel better.”