Vaughn growled furiously to himself, flinging the television remote across the floor in pure frustration. He then proceeded to let out a string of curse words that insulted nothing but the air particles surrounding him. He felt completely and utterly useless. He couldn't move a major limb without a jolt of pain assaulting his body from the inside.

He should have healed by now.

He should have been able to stop her from leaving that morning.

He had known that something hadn't been quite right. Something had been completely and utterly wrong. He wasn't exactly sure where the horrible inkling feeling had come from but now, as he sat invalid on the sofa two hours after his cousin had left it made him want to turn his stomach inside out. 

Perhaps it had been the twisting feeling in his gut. 

Perhaps it had been her cheeks, her cheeks that held no color but pure white. 

Perhaps it had been the threatening text messages.

 Perhaps it had been her lack of sleep that she had received last night. 

Perhaps it was her shaking hands as she tied up her laces. 

Perhaps it was the slight break in her voice as she said that everything was fine. 

He should have stopped her.

He should have leaped over the couch and barricaded the door shut.

Something wasn't right.

But he couldn't do anything.

He'd been stabbed.

Wounded to the point of immobility.

He couldn't move.

Useless.

Completely and utterly useless to the damsel in distress who needed a little more help than she thought she did.