Work Text:
The clock on the wall reads thirteen after five.
Sam gurgles, fingers slick (Gene's shouting), blood, so much blood. Sam chokes, vision fading (Annie's begging), crackles of sound like static popping in his ears. Sam drowns (crying?), pouring out, flowing down, no stopping it now. Such brutal simplicity, Jones' knife slicing across his throat.
The clock on the wall reads fourteen after five.
He jerks awake, gagging, sits up (sobs in shock). No need to check the time (check your throat, Sam), it's the same day starting over, alive for now, some other death waiting at the end.
And again...