Disclaimer: They all belong to Stephanie. And not me. Unfortunately.
This is an AU fanfic; if I say any more, I'll give it away.
I'm not giving anything away.
Chapter 1: Collapse
How long had it been? Time was never a sure thing in these caves and from my vantage in the deepest corner of the game room, it was impossible to know whether it was day or night. Had my fingers grown to the small object cradled in my arms? I lifted a stiff, unwilling index finger to reassure myself that my hands were, indeed, still a part of me. The dull ache in my finger announced that I would be very impossibly sore…if I ever decided to move. But I didn't want to; there was nothing for me to move for. No comfort, no hope, no passion. No love. I was suddenly aware of the silence around me despite the gurgling stream, wrapping itself around me and the faint hum of the tiny capsule in my arms. The humid air in this cavern would have definitely suffocated my already tear-thickened throat, had it not been for the cool radiance of the cryotank.
I just needed to be alone with her. That's why I chose the game room. This was a time for mourning, not a time to play, and the hospital became overwhelmingly crowded only too soon after the news of her sacrifice spread. Besides, lately, everyone had made it a point to avoid me at all costs. Everyone, or at least the people with a shred of compassion in their heart, was always dropping in to tell me how sorry they were and that things would get better. Things would definitely not get better. How could they even suggest something so disrespectful and ridiculous? Nothing was going to be alright; she had stolen herself from me and now I had nothing left to live for. Nothing except the glow and the chill that told me she was still alive in my arms. Not even the hope that they would return from the raid and they would not be empty-handed. The thought of the other option made me shudder.
"Wanda," I spoke absently, breaking the silence with my hoarse whisper of a voice. How long had I sat speechless? "If you can hear me, I'm sorry…"
My voice caught then, a painful stab in my throat, as the tears clung to my dried out eyes stingingly. Maybe I was out of my mind, or maybe I was just resorting to her altruistic way in an attempt to make her real…but I suddenly felt that it really was my fault. My love couldn't keep her here. I let the tears trace hot paths down my grimy face. It's not fair. If I could've kept her locked in my arms, if I would've never fell asleep, if…
Damn my laughable sleeping habits.
Why didn't she just cling to that selfish little sentence long enough for us to find the solution? I shut my eyes and leaned back against the jagged rock wall, the muscles in my back screaming at me to resume my former position. I ignored them, just like I was ignoring the tears. This had to work.
Despite my fondness of the excitement that going on raids usually brought me, I refused their invitation. I didn't care what she looked like. She was my Wanderer. It was her, the soul, that I loved, and no physical body would make me love her more or less. Although our relationship would work a lot better, all things considered. My back wasn't the only portion of my body screaming in protest at me. My stomach growled loudly; it almost seemed to echo off the walls. Maybe I should eat something, since I hadn't eaten anything since that night. A voice in the back of my mind, one that sounded very, very familiar, argued with me, telling me to eat something. I glanced down at the silver cylinder in my arms. Heh. That's just like her. It almost put a smile on my face.
"All we can do is hope…" I whispered to her quietly, my weary body standing reluctantly by its own accord.
Stretching proved to be a very painful experience. While keeping a firm grasp on my one and only, I shot my arms to the low cavern ceiling, the tips of my fingers on one hand brushing the smooth surface above me. A tiny gasp of pain escaped my lips. Ouch. The intensity of the pain made me wonder how long I had been there yet again. But that wasn't important right now. What was important was that I eat. For her.
My feet maneuvered the familiar, pitch black tunnels automatically while I was caught up in a reverie. Not thinking about anything in particular, just the different reasons I fell for her. The way she laughed when I said something she thought was funny, the shine in her eyes whenever she would notice when we got close, the facial expressions she made as she would internally monologue or argue with the rightful owner of her body. I knew that these were all Wanderer, and that it didn't matter whose body she was in because she would always do these things. Subconsciously I realized that the caves were empty, completely devoid of anyone except me and my entire world. Where is everyone? I thought, but quickly shook it off and continued my speculation.
Before Melanie had woken up in the hospital, I had wondered what it would be like. Would it be awkward for the both of us and Jared? I didn't know, but the first time I saw Melanie looking at me with her own eyes, I knew that there would be no confusion because I knew at that instant that there was nothing in that body that I loved now. But there was that jealousy, as I watched Jared and Melanie reunite. Though it was not because I wanted Melanie, which was certain. I wanted the comfort of having another, the ability to hold her in my arms and then never letting go. If she's ever capable of being in my arms again, I promised myself, I'm never going to let her go. If. That was such a scary word.
By the time I realized where my feet had taken us, I couldn't turn back, and the side-thought about the abandoned tunnels caught up with me. The blinding light hit my face and I blinked it away viciously, unable to see anything except white. I heard the abrupt halt of low conversations and even breathing. Nothing seemed to move for hours, though it had only been a few seconds. I felt completely helpless and vulnerable as I stood where I was seen but could not see. Then an anxious cry shattered the silence into a million glass shards.
"Ian!"
Author's Note:
I also realize this is really short; this was going to be a one-shot, but the idea just kept growing until I just had to make it into a story with more than one chapter. I just couldn't leave this idea of mine alone.
Constructive criticism never hurt anyone! Except that one guy…