Work Text:
The thing they never tell you about fucking blooddrain? You’re just forced to watch as your blood rains down around you.
You can’t scream, not when your muscles are spasming like that. You can’t seem to summon any thought to your head other than humans can’t have this much blood in their bodies, the cold sweat of realization crawling down your back.
You aren’t human. Not anymore. Maybe you never were.
You’re on the ground now, you notice, trying to drag yourself up to crawl toward the bullpen. Nothing moves. Your pulse would quicken, but. What's your heart even pumping anymore?
Your limbs leaden with fresh blood, Electric, as a teammate rushes to your side. That old preamble and seventh-inning-stretch reminder to the fans reverberates in your skull: “Our players are inhuman. They play day and night. Rain or shine. They never grow sick. They never tire.”
You finally manage to scramble to your feet, rod in hand.
Play blall.