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His head hits the wall with a loud thud, and Ewron hisses sharply, Ash’s hand squeezing his throat hard, his fingers digging into his neck.
He killed Ash’s daughter. He did not want to; it was an accident, a huge mistake on Ewron’s part, and he was out of his mind when it happened. Now, he is there to explain everything, to apologise, to fix it all. He wants to spit it all out, to beg Ash for forgiveness, but Ash’s knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on Ewron’s throat, and the other man can do nothing but choke, tears gathering in his eyes. His chest burns with sharp pain. He knows Ash wants to kill him; he can see it on his face, and he has every right to do so, so Ewron does not even try to fight back. He sees Ash raise his other hand, his fist clenched, preparing to hit him in the face, and a jolt of fear runs through Ewron like a lightning bolt. Then there is a sharp thwack echoing through the room as Ash misses, hitting the wall an inch from Ewron’s head instead. Ewron lifts his eyes to Ash, but the supreme leader of the Regime is not looking at him any more. He is staring away from Ewron. Ewron hears him chuckle under his breath and sees his shoulders shaking slightly, and he thinks a quick death would have been a mercy right now.
The guilt that has built up in his stomach finally breaks loose and spreads through Ewron’s entire body, rushing through his veins, and he cannot think of anything to say except a quiet, “I’m sorry.” Ash hears it but does not react, loosening his grip on Ewron’s neck, now red from the pressure of his hands. Once released, Ewron gasps for air and coughs harshly, doubling over from the lack of oxygen in his lungs and dragging in breath again and again. A few tears slip down his face, but he ignores them completely. It is not about him right now. Ash takes a step back from Ewron and turns away from him. He does not want to look at him, and he had said as much. “I need some space,” he had texted the Polish man as soon as he realised what had happened, but for some reason Ewron had still shown up at the Regime – a stupid fucking mistake on his part, because now Ash was going to kill him.
Blood boils in Ash’s veins as Ewron keeps mumbling stupid excuses over and over again, as if they will bring Ghosty back, and he wants to punch Ewron in the teeth. Watch the blood drip down his chin, throw him to the ground, and stamp on his neck until it gives with a familiar crunch and Ewron never breathes again. Ash fucking hates Ewron. He hears how sorry he is, listens to all the explanations the man is trying to whisper to him, and the shake in Ewron’s voice only pisses Ash off more. How dare he be sad over the death of his – Ash’s – daughter, the one he killed with his bare hands? So naturally, when Ewron lays a hand on his forearm and tries to look Ash in the eye while still mumbling his ‘sorries’ and ‘I didn’t mean to’s’, Ash throws him against the wall again and begins to strangle him with both hands now.
“You’re saying you’re sorry?!” Ash screams, the words sounding as though they are being ripped out of him, while he listens to the stuttering, ugly breaths Ewron makes. Ewron’s watery eyes are full of fear, and his heart feels as though it is trying to leap out of his chest while nausea builds in his stomach. His hands claw at Ash’s, trying to wrench them away, and he gasps for air. He thinks he might be sick at any moment.
“You killed my daughter, Ewron! You killed my Ghosty! You’re the one who fucking did this, kelpamine or no kelpamine! She was my everything, my reason for leading the Regime against the Federation, and now she’s gone because of you, of all people!” Ewron stares at him, his blue eyes wide, tears streaming down his cheeks and his face red from lack of oxygen. Ash looks at Ewron fighting so helplessly, unshed tears clinging to his own waterline too, and thinks that he could get it over with here and now. But the punch he drives into Ewron’s stomach is not enough, nor is the whine Ewron makes as his knees buckle beneath him, pain tearing through him before he crumples to the ground. Ashswag looks down at his trembling palms and swipes the tears from his face. He is one of the strongest men on the island, he thinks, if not the strongest, and these emotions are useless. Attachments only bring pain. So now Ewron is his last and only weakness, making his heart clench and shatter into a million pieces over and over again as Ewron keeps begging him to forgive him, yet does not try to fight back or escape.
“You’re so pathetic,” the supreme leader chuckles, his voice no more than a hushed whisper. “It makes me sick to look at you.” He steps closer to Ewron and grabs him by the chin, forcing him to look up. Tiny red pinprick spots bloom all over Ewron’s face, which is swollen, with ugly tears running down it. “I fucking hate you,” Ash says with a smile as he drops to his knees and drives a dagger into Ewron’s stomach.
“Ewron is bleeding out to death,” everyone’s communicators beep.
Ewron squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a sharp, quiet grunt, but still does not move. There is so much burning in his lower torso that he starts to feel dizzy, and the acid in his stomach nearly rises to his throat. One wrong movement, he thinks, and he will either be sick or pass out. His breaths are short and panting, and the cold metal feels hot inside him, as though the dagger has just been pulled from a forge and its blade is glowing. He bites his lower lip and prays for it to be over, but Ash does not move. Instead, Ash’s strong grip returns to his chin, and Ewron forces himself to open his eyes, his vision blurred, sobs slipping from his mouth as he looks at the most important person in his life, the man he has betrayed. Ewron thinks he deserves to die and that Ashswag will finish him soon, but what happens next he cannot quite understand, and he would not be able to even if he were not in excruciating pain. Ash seizes his jaw and pulls him into a bruising kiss with a growl.
Ewron can only kiss back weakly, if it can even be called that. Ash gives him no room to do anything else. Their teeth knock together painfully from the force and speed of it, and Ash swears under his breath before forcing Ewron’s mouth open. He swipes his tongue over Ewron’s teeth and pushes into his mouth, tangling a hand in Ewron’s hair. His grip is merciless, holding him still and keeping his head tilted up exactly where he wants it. He presses in close, ignoring the dagger still buried in Ewron’s stomach and the dark, wet, bloody stain spreading across Ewron’s hoodie. He bites at Ewron’s lower lip until there is blood there too, and then tangles their tongues together. It is messy. Ash’s tongue claims every inch of Ewron’s mouth, going as deep as it can, and Ewron feels sick to his stomach. He is still crying, and his tears seep into his mouth. It is disgusting. He thinks Ash might be crying too. Maybe their tears are mixing with the taste of blood from Ewron’s split lip, but Ewron cannot think for long because Ash bites him again. Ash’s mouth is ruthless, his breath hot and ragged, and the kiss tastes of metal and salt. It is possessive. Ash’s grip turns painful, and Ewron sobs into the kiss.
Only when Ash runs out of breath himself does he pull away and stand up at once, wiping his lips with the cuff of his shirt. He turns away from Ewron, and the other man reaches up to grab at Ash’s cloak, but Ash tears it free and scoffs.
“What now?” he asks.
Ewron collapses to the ground, no longer able to remain on his knees, and whines, asking Ash to forgive him once more. Ash only chuckles.
“Don’t come to me,” he says, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. “Don’t text me either. I don’t want to see you or hear from you.” With that, he walks away, and when Ewron can no longer see him, he hears the warpstone go off. Ewron rolls onto his back, gasping like a fish thrown from the sea onto the shore, and closes his eyes for the last time.
“Ewron bled to death,” everyone’s communicators beep.