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case-almost-closed · 5 months

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Little darling angel

Gin x fem! reader (third POV) Words: 3.8K Warnings: Blood, wounds, threatening, death threats, mentioning of abusive relationship, mentions of cheating, Gin's maybe a bit OOC

She knew it would likely be a mistake. She knew it would probably be best for everyone if she just kept walking, ignored the painful moans and threw herself on the sofa at home to watch her favourite series.

And although her head was screaming at her to get the hell out of there, she couldn't help but stand rooted to the spot in front of the side alley and listen to the laboured breathing.

Her heart was pounding in her throat and she knew she should turn away now and just leave, but she just couldn't take her eyes off the side alley. Just go, a voice screamed in her head, but she couldn't. For a few more moments, she stood stock-still on the path before she clutched the shopping bag in her hand tighter and shakily took a step forwards, then another, venturing further into the alleyway bit by bit.

It was pitch black and she could barely see her hand in front of her eyes. The only sound she could hear was the echo of her footsteps against the walls. The heavy breathing had stopped. Had she imagined it? She stopped and listened, but she couldn't hear any more breathing. To be on the safe side, she did what she always cursed characters in horror films for: she called out.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" No answer. Suddenly she remembered that she still had a small flash light in her jacket pocket, pulled it out and switched it on.

A pale beam of light fell on the wall and lit up the dark alley at least a little.

She took a few steps further into the alley when a bang sounded behind her. With a soft scream, she spun round, clutching the torch tightly, only to have the pale light fall on a cat, which scampered away.

Putting her hand over her heart, she breathed to herself, "Wonderful, you're going to get yourself killed one day." Instead of turning round, she looked down the alley one last time.

"If you continue to be naïve enough to wander into dark alleys without being able to defend yourself, then yes."

Startled, she wheeled round again, this time in the direction the voice had come from. The flash light was weak and the light wasn't good, but it was enough to make out the man lying slumped next to one of the rubbish bins. And the pool of blood.

"Oh my God." She dropped the shopping bag and rushed over to him, but paused as she crouched in front of him when she saw the barrel of the gun pointed at her. "Like I said, little angel," he hissed and she could make out a grin twisted with pain. "Your naivety will get your wings trimmed one day."

Her breathing quickened and for a few moments she waited for him to pull the trigger, but nothing happened. The only sound that echoed through the alley was his heavy and her accelerated breathing. "Sir, you need help." Her voice was muffled, careful not to anger him. "Listen, you're hurt bad and you need a doctor." His gloved hand, in which the pistol lay, jerked upwards and she recoiled almost imperceptibly.

"No." She should stop. She should take it, get up and get to her feet while she still could. However, her conscience seemed to have other plans. "Listen, if you stay here, you'll die. It won't take long to call an ambulance." She reached into her pocket to pull out her mobile phone, but a hand grabbed her and prevented her from doing so.

"What exactly about 'no' don't you understand, you stupid girl?" She stared at him with wide eyes. His eyes were unrecognisable and hidden behind his hair and the brim of his hat, but she could feel his gaze boring into her.

"Are you naïve enough to think I wouldn't use this?" He raised the pistol. "Believe me, I have no problem shooting you dead on the spot and I still couldn't sleep any more peacefully tonight."

Now was the time to plead for mercy and flee, but she just couldn't do it. Instead, she smiled slightly.

"I believe you. But it doesn't change the fact that you need medical help." For a moment, he seemed perplexed by her stubbornness, but he quickly regained his composure and lowered his head with a grin that sent a shiver down her spine. "You seem to have a death wish."

"No." She shook her head and searched for eye contact, but it was impossible to make out anything in this light, the hair and the hat. "I'm a nurse, though. It's my job to help people." She sighed and her eyes fell on the gun in his hand. It was still pointing at her, but he had taken his finger off the trigger. At least it was something.

"If you don't want to go to hospital, that's fine and I won't ask any more questions. To be honest, I don't even want to know what kind of schemes you're involved in. But at least let me treat you provisionally. Only to the extent that you are able to walk. After that, I'll leave you alone and if you still want to shoot me, you're free to try."

Silence reigned and for a few harrowing moments she was completely convinced that she was done for. He would put his finger back on the trigger and blow her brains out. Her heart began to pound and she had the feeling that time was passing more slowly than usual, melting away like thick honey.

But just when she couldn't stand the silence any longer, something happened that she hadn't expected.

He laughed. Although you couldn't really call it a laugh. It was more of an amused and at the same time incredulous release of air through his teeth. "You're insane, darling. I could kill you."

"You already said that. Still, I want to help you. My flat is only a few metres from here. It's really not far." He was silent for a moment and she was pretty sure he was really going to kill her now, yet he nodded slightly, barely recognisable, to her surprise.

"All right. But one wrong move -" The sentence remained unfinished, but she didn't need much imagination to understand what he was trying to say. "Okay."

He looked up and for the first time she could see his eyes, piercing her and burning right into her soul. They were greenish-blue and so cold they sent a shiver down her spine. They were not the eyes of someone who had done something wrong in their life. They were the eyes of a murderer, a person who knew no remorse and for whom none of the murders ever left a scar on the soul.

A predatory smile crept onto his lips. "Don't tell me you're backing out now, angel."

She jutted out her chin and wrinkled her nose, looking directly into his eyes. "No, of course not. Can you stand up?" He snorted. "Who do you think I am." He tried to push himself up, pistol still in hand, and let out a pained groan.

She clamped the flash light between her teeth, straightened up and held her hands out to him. He snorted again, this time derogatorily, but she continued to glare at him.

"I'm not a child. I should shoot you for that insinuation alone."

Sighing, she took the flash light out of her mouth so she could speak. "I didn't mean to imply that you were a child. However, you have to agree that it will go faster if I help you up.

He didn't seem to listen to her, but grabbed the edge of the bin and pulled himself up. He groaned and puffed and she didn't want to imagine the pain he was in. However, as he wouldn't let her help him, she decided that the best thing she could do was to get her bag and hurry to get him home. She hastily put the torch back in her jacket pocket, it wouldn't do them any good anyway, and stepped towards him as he pointed his gun at her again.

"And what exactly…. Is this supposed to be?" He was panting and she knew that every breath must be causing him incredible agony, so she endeavoured to speak to him in a calm tone so that he wouldn't get upset. "I wanted to support you in the hope of getting you into my flat faster." He snorted disparagingly and she could understand it. He was a lot taller than her and although he was slim, she could only imagine that he could also be quite heavy.

She was all the more surprised when he put his right arm around her shoulder, allowing her to wrap hers around his waist and support him at least a little. "Remember, one wrong move-"

"-and I'm dead. I get it," she gasped, straining. He was a little heavier than she had expected, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it. She could feel his gaze on her, though her eyes were fixed ahead, where the end of the alley was already coming into view. "I didn't expect such bold words, angel. Considering how naïve you are."

"You say all the time that I'm naive. Why?" They had now reached the street and were only a few metres away from her flat. Her letterbox was almost within reach. He laughed again, this time a real laugh, albeit harsh.

"What makes you think you're not naive? You walk into a dark back alley with nothing but a torch and a shopping bag because you hear moaning. You argue incessantly with a strange, badly injured man, with a gun, who has no problem killing you, only to invite said man into your flat."

"I wouldn't really call it inviting." They had arrived at her house and she looked sceptically at the few stairs they had to climb to get to her flat. After all, she lived on the first floor. "Can you manage that?"

All at once, she felt hot breath on her ear and froze as he whispered directly into her ear. "Don't insult me. Just because I allow you to help me doesn't mean you have the right to talk to me like that. Do you understand?" She took a shaky breath.

"Of course."

"Good."

He pulled back and let go of her, whereupon she instantly removed her arm from his body and took a few steps to the side to make sure she wouldn't lose it.

Concerned but distant, she watched him pull himself up the stairs and followed at a safe distance until they reached the top. Once there, she waited for him to put his arm around her shoulder again before leading him to the door of her flat.

On arrival, she endeavoured to carefully pull out her front door key and then entered the flat with him. She pushed the door shut with her foot and led the man into her living room, where she led him to the sofa, where he sat down with a pain-filled hiss. "One moment, I'll just take the shopping to the kitchen and then get the necessary utensils." She turned round, but his voice held her back. "Your mobile phone."

She turned to face him, only to find that he had pointed the gun at her again. "Put it on the table. We don't want you to call the cops. And don't even think about going to the phone." She nodded and followed his order, refraining from making a snide comment, and then hurried into the kitchen where she put the bag down. As there was no frozen food in it, she didn't have to put it away immediately.

She took a deep breath and tried to organise her thoughts.

One thing was certain. She hadn't expected to have a criminal sitting in her living room tonight to tend to his wounds. She quickly splashed some water on her face before rushing to the bathroom to get the things she needed. Back in the living room, she realised that he had now got rid of his coat and hat and thrown them carelessly on the floor.

She put her things down on the small table and spread a towel on the sofa so that he could lie on it later. "It's going to hurt. Quite a bit. Do you want something to drink?" He snorted. "Something alcoholic, if that's what you've got." She nodded, stood up and handed him a hair tie. "Tie your hair back, please, and try to get out of that shirt. I don't want either of them to get in the way later."

She quickly hurried out of the living room and returned shortly afterwards with a glass in her hand, which she placed on the small table. The man had tied his hair up in a loose ponytail and removed his black shirt. Under other circumstances, she might have given his well-toned torso a second or even third glance, but her eyes were fixed on the gaping wound in his side.

"Did the bullet go through?" He nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He sounded annoyed. "I didn't take it as a souvenir, though, if that's what you want to know."

She smiled briefly, but quickly composed herself and handed him the glass, which he drank in one go. There was an ironic smile on his lips as he handed it back to her. "Excellent gin, angel."

"I know." Silence fell after that. To her surprise, he obeyed and lay on his side so that she could stitch his side. She didn't need as many stitches as she had thought, but she could feel him tense up almost imperceptibly with each one and tried to work as quickly and yet as neatly and cleanly as possible. After an exhausting twenty minutes, she was finished and was able to put the needle aside.

"Careful." He sat up and gave her a cold look. "I know what I'm doing." She took his word for it, after all, she had seen the scars that adorned his body. "Wait a minute." She quickly got up and took the utensils to the kitchen to wash and sterilise them later, washed her hands and returned with a cloth and a bowl of warm water.

In the meantime, he had sat up and was apparently glancing around her living room. He had tied his hair back, but she still couldn't see his eyes. She knelt quietly on the floor in front of him, dipped the towel in the water and reached to his side as his hand stopped hers, clasping her wrist. "And what is this supposed to be, angel?" His voice was a hiss and she felt her heart pounding in her chest. "I wanted to clean the wound, after all, it would be a shame if it got infected, wouldn't it?"

For a few moments he just stared at her and she felt cold sweat running down her back before he slowly released her and nodded. She took it as a sign to start and carefully began to dab at the edges. All the while, she felt his burning gaze resting on her, but ignored it to devote herself to her work.

"Why are you taking so much time?"

She looked up in surprise; after all, she hadn't expected him to talk to her. "Excuse me?" He sounded disinterested, but she had the feeling that he wasn't just making conversation to pass the time.

"I would have thought you'd try to get rid of me early before your husband got home."

She involuntarily tensed up for a moment and her eyes shot up to him. " How-"

She followed his gaze and spotted her old wedding photo still on the dresser. Snorting, she turned away and continued her work. "Well, I'm sure he wouldn't be too happy to find you here, but he'd have to lift his head from between his young secretary's legs first." He tilted his head and she thought she saw interest in his features.

"He's cheating on you. Yet you don't sound particularly sad."

She snorted. "Why should I? He's horrible. Filthy rich, yes, but turns out he's nothing but a miserable arsehole. He needed someone to cook and clean and admire him. He was loving and attentive at first, I never thought he'd be such an abusive, violent bitch."

He sat up and hastily she withdrew her hand to avoid grabbing into his wonder.

"He abuses you?" Her gaze was focused on his wonders and she found her work done, so she tossed the rag back into the bowl of water. "I don't see why you would-" She was interrupted by a hand tucking under her chin and turning her face to his.

His eyes sparkled with something she couldn't describe.

"Answer. Me." His voice was calm and composed, but oh so cold, it sent a shiver through her body and made her swallow.

"Yes." Her voice was no more than a breath. "Physically?"

She nodded. "Not often. He prefers verbal and psychological abuse. My husband has his fun telling me how incredibly lazy and ungrateful I am. Part of the reason why I probably have the urge to help people. So maybe you should thank him." She got up to leave the room, but he grabbed her hand again and pulled her round. He had also stood up and was now towering over her.

"I may be a ruthless murderer without a conscience," he hissed, "but I do not condone such things. Dare to accuse me like that again and you'll regret it." She nodded. "Understood, sir." He let go of her and she hurried to take the bowl away, but his voice held her back.

"Why don't you leave him?" She turned to face him. He was standing in the middle of her darkened living room, his hair down to his waist, even tied up and his head slightly tilted. He was a murderer, a ruthless man. So why did he care about her life?

Nevertheless, she hurried to answer so as not to test his patience. "Because of the money. He's rich and my job pays pretty badly. I simply can't afford to leave him financially. He has the better lawyers. He would come out on top in divorce proceedings. Only in the event of his death would I receive anything, but I doubt that will happen any time soon."

He looked thoughtful, but nodded. "Anything else sir?" "Yes." He took a step towards her and grinned a wolfish smile. "Call me Gin." She laughed briefly and glanced at the empty glass on her table, but quickly suppressed it. "Gin? That's not because I served it to you, is it?" He just cocked his head and turned away to stare out of the window. Amused, she shook her head and left the living room to return the utensils.

When she returned, Gin had disappeared and all that bore witness to his presence was the empty glass and a small note lying under the glass. Curious, if a little disappointed - she didn't know why - she picked up the note, unfolded it and read it.

Little, darling angel,

I owe you one which does not happen. Ever

Until next time

~~*~~

It had been two weeks since she had taken care of the injured man, Gin, and not much had happened. The only unusual thing was that she had been called several times from her husband's work, where he seemed to be missing. But as he was so rarely at home anyway, she hadn't been able to answer the question.

Exhausted, she pushed the door shut behind her, kicked off her shoes and went into the living room to switch on the light when a hand came over hers. "I wouldn't do that, angel!"

She cried out and wheeled round to strike at the person, but the other hand caught her too, forcing her to look the person in the face. She froze in place. "Gin."

He grinned, his eyes flashing from behind the curtain of hair. "I trust I can let you go without you attacking me. It really would be all too unfortunate to have to kill a woman with such a pretty face."

Heat rose to her face, but she nodded. Gin let go of her and slowly took a step back to give her room to breathe. "What are you doing here?"

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and began to pace back and forth in her room. His figure looked shadowy in the dim light, but she could see him well enough. "I told you I owed you something. And there's nothing I hate more than that." She swallowed and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "You don't owe me anything." He stopped and turned to her with his trademark wolfish grin. "That's right. Not anymore."

She frowned in confusion. "Of what-"

"How's hubby?" All at once, she felt as if all her senses had been returned to her without her ever knowing they were missing. "His disappearance. That's on you."

"Maybe." She swallowed. "Is he dead?" Gin tilted his head slightly so that his hair fell slightly out of his face and he could look at her. "Would you like him to be?"

Her eyes fell to the floor and her thoughts raced so fast that she could hardly keep up. "He was a horrible person. But does he deserve to die?" Gin stepped towards her. "Any man who tries to clip an angel's wings deserves far worse." She swallowed and a wave of courage came over her.

"Isn't that exactly what you wanted to do? Wasn't it your words that one day my wings would be clipped because of my naivety?"

All at once, his eyes darkened. "I have changed my mind. And rest assured, my little angel, that any man, woman or child who tries to pluck a single feather from your wings will not live to see the next day. No one will continue to soil your pure white robe."

She should feel fear. She should try to escape. Gin seemed to have taken a liking to her, or at least an interest, and even if she didn't know much about him, she knew he was extremely dangerous and it would be foolish of her to even think that this would end well and not in death.

However, her reason didn't seem to have any effect on the rest of her body, as she only jutted her chin. "So you didn't come to end it then? To end me?"

"Oh my little darling angel." Gin's voice was cold and soft at the same time and his movements were smooth, like those of a predatory cat as he glided towards her. She stumbled backwards until she hit a wall and couldn't move as he braced his right hand against the wall beside her and placed his left under her chin. She was supposed to feel scared, but the only thing she felt was a shiver coursing down her spine and she wasn't sure if it was one of fear.

"We're just getting started, aren't we?"

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