In Our Heads

by TheSoggyBug

Like all the other fanfics on here, this is about when Todd finally wakes up. How has New World changed through all those months? More importantly, how has HE changed? With a new Noise and a new life free of the war he's always known, Todd somehow has to find himself again in the world he grew up on and with the girl who refused to give up on him. T for fluff, super Tiola shipping

This is my first published Chaos Walking fanfiction, so no hating! Also, I've been writing in past-tense for over three years, so if you see a flaw in past-to-present, I do apologize.

Disclaimer: I do not own Chaos Walking or anything about it. Patrick Ness does. And he's my hero.

Oh, and just in case you don't understand, bold words are when animals speak or men's Noise, and italics is in the Spackle voice and Ben's voice and stuff.

Enjoy!

oOo

[Todd]

I hear you again.

Viola.

Yer closer to me this time.

I can hear you—

A vision rises to the front of my dead mind: a sweet but cautious smile peeking through my window. Viola? Is that you I see? It is. Stay with me, Viola. I ain't gone yet.

As usual, a wave of black confusion strikes me over the head and I tumble once again into the pit of unconsciousness, only to hit my head on the bottom. A voice, sticky through my haze, breaks into my thoughts almost painfully.

"The leaves are beginning to bud, Todd…"

Leaves? Bud?

Words mix and crawl and drip down the walls of my brain, none fusing or making any sense…but they're in her voice.

Viola.

I'm coming, Viola, I haven't left you yet. Hang in there. Yer getting closer, I can feel it. I can hear it. Almost…

[Viola]

I wake with a jolt from sleep perturbed by nightmares. Nightmares of the fire and the ocean and knuckles turning white with the effort of holding onto a certain bone-handled knife. I can still taste the terror like copper on my dry tongue.

Last night I fell asleep by Todd, as always. He's made no changes in the many long months of winter here on the New World. Moons have come and gone. I've shivered my way through colds and flues and read my throat hoarse to him, talking in hopes he'll one day talk back. Just recently it grew warmer out and the snow melted away. Leaves of bright green have begun to appear on the trees. Ice breaks on the river. A new life has begun.

Limbs stiff from an uncomfortable night's sleep, I stretch out and open my eyes. As usual, the earthy walls of our Spackle-made hutch greet me and all of my sleep-groggy glory. Opposite me, Todd lay motionless. Though hunger whines at the pit of my stomach, I get up and check on him.

With a gentle finger, I touch his face, which is losing its farmers tan from lack of sunlight. "Good morning, Todd."

As usual, nothing answers.

Viola? Noise floats out of nowhere. Bradley's Noise. Viola's awake?

Two seconds later, he appears in the doorway, grinning. Pictures of my bed-head from his eyes dance around the room, making him grin even wider. "Morning."

I smile back tiredly. "Morning."

"How is he?" Bradley nods his head towards Todd, and his Noise is filled with hope, as it is every day when he asks that.

"Same."

He frowns in disappointment, but he has grown to accept it. We all have.

Things have definitely taken a turn for the better, though. The new settlers came as planned, both frightened and eager to see the New World. Most, as I expected, are incredibly naïve and soft, unaware of the other hardships faced before they came. There was the preliminary speech (hosted by Ben and Lee and Wilf, with the Sky there) about the Noise. No one took it lightly, but they're all learning to cope.

Some dove right in, made friends and welcomed the new ways of this place with open arms. Some stay nervous, in their shells, barely seen at all. I've come to know a few in particular, but I've realized that I'm not good at making friends any more. None of them seem to make a lasting impression.

None like Todd.

Nevertheless, everyone handles it with grace. The settlers have helped rebuild Haven (a little farther away from the first spot because of the lake in its place, though a few buildings are still intact) and the others have dispersed themselves throughout the other abandoned towns on horseback and in covered wagons and on foot in little groups. Some stay, some leave for the other towns, and some brave souls leave to make completely new settlements.

Ben handles everything. People respect him.

I stay here in this hut with the Spackles on the top of the falls. The usual cover of healing voices is thick around this part of the Pathway's End, and it has been for months. They take care of me and Todd, and well.

1017—pardon, I mean The Sky—should be dead by now. The poison on the wristband he wears has crawled up into his chest and has seeped into his bones. The other Spackle healers care for him as best as he allows, but unless Todd wakes up soon—and I mean soon—he'll let himself die.

The Sky is so obviously close to death, but he still stands and walks and leads. A few months back I finally let him into the hut, only after Bradley and Ben convinced me that he might help Todd's condition. Even after that failed once (ending in me having a screaming fit), I became a tiny bit more lenient, letting him in when he sees fit, but only on the promise that he'll heal Todd.

My mind whirls with the Noise of Haven far off and the Spackle, as it always does, but one voice in particular is aimed at me.

Breakfast coming, Bradley thinks, peering behind him. With one last smile, he leaves my hut.
The Sky enters. Long, pale appendages, equally pale lichen growing on his skin like clothes, huge intelligent eyes blinking over at Todd.

The Knife gets better, he shows in the flowing voice of the Land. His voice is louder.

I listen, but only hear the muffled nonsense of Todd's usual half-dead Noise. "Can't you just wake him up like Ben?"

The Source was asleep. The Knife is not. 1017's voice takes in a twinge of annoyance. One needs to be asleep to be woken up, obviously.

"If he isn't asleep, then what is he?"

A pause follows, in which the Sky sets a tray of food down on the wooden table next to me. Elsewhere. And with that, he bows his head and leaves. I could see his black, useless, withered arm swinging after painfully. It's still hard to pity him.

I eat, and then I sit next to Todd on his makeshift bed. A while back they'd traded out the hard stone slab for a thick moss mattress so he'd be more comfortable, and mossy blankets wrap around his immobile body like a cocoon. I can hear another bit of his Noise, fuzzy, but there.

Swallowing down a lump of sorrow, I cast my gaze out the open entryway. The large deciduous tree in front of our hut is growing little bitty leaves, giving off a sweet scent.

"The leaves are beginning to bud, Todd," I say absentmindedly. "Spring is here…"

His Noise seemed to hum for a second, getting louder. Images flickered. They are of spring, too.

"Todd? Todd, can you hear me?" I say hopefully, leaning in closer to his sleeping face. "Todd?" As always when this happens, I'm getting excited. Almost to the point of tears. "Todd?"

His Noise sputters and slips, nothing making sense any more. He's quiet once again.

I sigh. So close, Todd… So close. For the millionth time that winter fighting the urge to cry, I stand back up. Maybe he won't ever wake.

The Knife called. The Sky appears abruptly, his voice littered with befuddlement and wonder.

I slump back on my chair, shrugging weakly. "No. He's gone again."

1017 blinks. I hear him.

I don't. In fact, my hatred for the Sky spikes again and I make a disgusted noise in the back of my throat directed towards him. "You're lying. You're lying to save your own behind."

Sometimes I snap like this, but as soon as a little anger hits my heart it all comes flooding and I can't stop it.

Heat pumped into my throat and it hurts even looking at Todd. It only makes me angrier. "Todd's dead." Tears stung my eyes. "Todd's dead because you killed him."

The Spackle's Noise fluttered angrily, but inside it, I can tell how wounded he is from the event. He does not pull his fathomless gaze away from mine. I am saving him, he tries to explain, hands out.

"He wouldn't NEED saving if you hadn't KILLED HIM!" My voice begins rising as tears trickle down my cheeks. My heart aches and longs for the comforting voice I haven't heard in too long, for his arms, his smile. I miss him. I want him. I stand, face red with rage. "He's been like this for MONTHS. You say you're helping him, you say you're healing him, but he's still DEAD."

Over the Sky's voice, I suddenly hear another. Recognizable, yet curiously upset at the yelling.

Be calm, Viola. Ben enters the hut and reaches out to stop my furious pacing, as he always does when I get like this. The Sky's trying to help. He's doing all that he can.

Todd's Noise rises in volume again, just a bit, but then fades.

Don't be angry, Ben tries to show, but his Noise betrays his distress as well. "Please, Viola. Keep yourself together. For Todd."

For Todd…

I grit my teeth, fighting more tears, but something happens. Something beautiful and terrifying and shocking and painful at the same time. Something that makes the voice of the Land hush. A Noise I hadn't heard clearly in six months.

Ben?

All the voices of the Spackle that had been hushed came rushing back. In a flurry of astonished, excited, loving feelings, Ben crosses the room and drops down next to his comatose son, reaching out with his Noise. I couldn't physically see it, but Ben is reaching out, trying to hold onto Todd with his Noise. The commotion and strain is almost grating on my ears.

The voice of the Land became interested as they hear and felt what is happening. The Sky kneels by Todd, too, and wraps his own subconscious around the limp form of my Todd's soul.

If Todd can recognize Ben's voice, he's almost here. Almost…

I bite my tongue and watch them, praying to whatever god there may me to bring him back to me.

But he's slipping. I can feel his Noise growing quieter and quieter, and Ben's Noise growing frantic and desperate. He reaches as far as he can. Sweat appears on his brow, tears on his lower eyelids.

My boy, my son… He strains to utter those words with his weakening voice.

The Sky is trying as well. But they're efforts are useless.

Ben cracks. "Goddammit, Viola, help us!" he shouts.

Tears begin stinging my vision again, because can't. "I can't!" I yell back, putting forth all the misery and feelings that are bottling up in my chest. "I don't have any Noi—"

It feels like a flash of lightning behind my eyelids. A vid on fast-forward of a splintering rope mending back up. One second, and a scream of Noise fills up the hut. The falls. The entire New World. It isn't a word or a picture or anything in particular; it's a sound and a feeling of something breaking open.

A balloon popping, Noise exploding in every direction, so loud and forceful from being cooped up for so long.

It makes me stumble backwards onto the opposite cot and let out a cry as Todd's Noise pours out. Pictures flashed every which way like a handful of butterflies, except quicker and more violent, smeared and unrecognizable. Some may be fireworks. Some may be pictures of spring or of Spackle or Ben or Cillian or Mayor Prentiss or Mistress Coyle or Manchee.

The only thing recognizable is me. So many pictures of me, my name splitting the air like autumn rain.

VIOLA, VIOLA, VIOLA.

But still, Todd remains as still as he was ten minutes ago.

"Viola, come here!" Ben says loudly, not in his head. He has two fingers under his son's jaw. He's back.

I can't help myself. I trip back across the room and drop to my knees next to Todd, shoving 1017 out of the way. My hands scrabble onto the skin of his neck and I can feel it. His heartbeat, warm and alive under my fingertips.

"Todd!" I say, slapping my hands over my mouth again, choking sounds burbling from my throat.

Todd's Noise slows a bit, but an image slips from his mind into my own. Of me, obviously, much more beautiful than I am in real life, but full of recognition and so much love I could have otherwise been embarrassed.

"Todd, Todd, wake up," I yell, putting my hands on either sides of his face. "Wake up, please wake up. Todd, please."

I feel so vulnerable sitting there between the Sky and Ben—his father and his murderer—crying over the boy I've only ever felt anything for. My Todd. Wake up. I try again, this time lightly shaking his shoulders, not caring about the tears splashing on his face. But it's fading. He's fading.

Again.

"No, Todd!" I throw myself over his chest, as if to shield him from something unknown. My hands gripped his shirt. "Stay here, Todd, don't you dare leave me."

But he's gone. Todd's Noise fades just as fast and strong as it had come.

Again.

"No!" Furious sobs rip from my lungs as he leaves me again. He left… "Come back!" I try clinging hard and shaking him feebly, but Ben's fingers are prying me away.

I can't hear because of the roaring in my ears. He's gone again, gone. Come back…

Viola, Ben's Noise brakes through my mental wall of agony all of a sudden, and I can tell he's in just as much pain as I am. Take some time to yourself.

I know what he means. But I can't leave Todd. I cling harder, whispering and pleading for him to come back.

"Viola. Go." Ben's voice is harsh. He's hardly ever risen his voice at me, but this time he's serious.

Without a glance back, I run from the hutch and yank the ropes free from where Angharrad is tethered. She lifts her head inquisitively as I swing myself up onto her bare back.

Girl colt? she asks, swallowing the last bit of her grain. Boy colt? Loud?

I dig my heels into her and she unsurely canters off without asking again.

Tears fly from my eyes as we run.

Todd, Todd—

I almost had you—

What happened?

Ben's angry.

Todd—

Angharrad runs and runs, hooves pounding on the forest floor like rolling thunder. Her nostrils flare with every breath.

Viola? she whinnies, straining as she gallops. Girl colt?

I can barely talk because of the stinging tears inside of me. "Just run, girl."

She does.

An hour passes, and then two. Three. For a long time all I can see are the newly-budding forest plants streaking by me in a hazy blur, directions unclear through the tears in my eyes. Angharrad runs as I tell her, only saying my name every once and a while.

I just grip her mane and tell her to go.

Eventually, Angharrad starts sounding exhausted and I pull her to a gentle stop at the first sign of water. It's a pond we're at; the water is full of water lilies the size of card tables and cattails that are as tall as I am. The whole place is filled with the sweet smell of the forest and the calling of the creatures, birds wondering where their home is, lizards chasing each other around, frogs croaking about their next meal.

Letting out a groan, I slide off of Angharrad. The muscles in my legs are so stiff that they hold me up for only a second before I collapse, hands hitting the surface of the pond with a loud splash. Birds scatter at the noise, trilling safetysafetysafety after them.

Angharrad ignores the startled forest creatures and immediately starts gulping water down with loud slurps, sides still heaving. Five feet away, I'm on my hands and knees, staring into the murky water of the pond.

I almost had him. My Todd. He was there, awake, alive. I had him, but he was gone again.

A squeezing takes over my chest and I shudder, coughing and letting out gargled wails as my body rocks back and forth in the water. If I had Noise, it would be raging with grief, sorrow, loud and stretched tight. I don't have Noise, though, so I have to suffer inside of myself.

Todd would be able to tell. He could always read me, even though my thoughts could not be read.

Todd.

The water splashes loudly again as I sit back on my behind and kick out furiously, angry at the world. Plumes of water shoot up, splattering Angharrad into raising her head.

Little rivulets of pond water streamed from her hairy chin. Viola? Splash?

When I put my head in my hands instead of answering, the sleek brown horse walks over and puts her muzzle in my hair, snuffling with worry.

"I'll be okay," I hiccup to her, uncovering a hand from my face to pet her gently, running my fingers through tangles in her mane. "I'll be okay…"

Maybe.

For a minute Angharrad and I stay there, but then after a bit, I lay back and let the water soak into my clothes.

I'm thirsty…

My legs hurt…

I want Todd… He'd make it better.

Six months it's been since he got shot. Six months of winter. A few weeks until Todd's birthday. One until mine. God-knows-how-long since I ran away from the hut. Five hours? My mom had always said I was good at throwing fits. I never understood what she meant until now.

The birds have come back, singing their songs about safety and home. They all ignore me as they busy themselves with picking moss from trees, and as I roll around in the shallow water pining for my friend.

I wonder vaguely whether anyone bothered to follow me. Ben said to get some time to myself, so he expected me to leave, but did he expect me to be gone for hours upon hours? Surely my tracks are easy to follow, crashing through the woods like that. Even so, I doubt anyone will bother coming after me. That's best. Just leave me alone…

Girl colt! Angharrad head snaps up suddenly, pointing off into the forest behind us. Viola! Her ears flick back and forth.

"What?" I groan, shielding the sun from my eyes weakly. Ever since the adrenaline wore off, so did my warmth, and I shiver in all of my wet clothing.

Girl colt, she whinnies, taking a tentative step towards the trees. Listen. Girl colt! Viola!

My legs creak with stiffness as I stand up and drag them over to my horse where she paces restlessly. "What do you mean?"

Angharrad doesn't answer; she shakes her mane and paces some more. I lay back down.

Then I hear it. Noise, like molasses spreading, crawling forwards liquid-like, but not menacing at all. The Land. Not too many of them by the sounds of it, but I never did get good at reading their wordless language. Living with it all around for months helped, but I still don't understand what they are thinking right up until they appeared at the lake next to me.

Two Spackle emerge from the brush and step into the clearing. Each holds a fishing spear and each are obviously surprised to see me there.

Pictures are swapped in their Noise, of me, and of Ben and Todd.

One of them glances at his companion and then gingerly walks over to where I am sprawled on the ground. Questions are in their Noise, but there is something else, something I wish I can understand. More pictures, colors, feelings swirled together in an unidentifiable mixture of the Land's voice.

The Spackle cautiously offers one of his long hands to me, clicking his tongue. Those giant, black eyes remain unreadable, but I force myself to trust him.

He helps me up.

The two Spacks exchange more Noise, hesitant this time, and I understand a little. Something about Ben, yes. And their Sky. And Todd.

Out of the blue—almost literally; it felt like it came down from the sky like God—a very crisp, clear, picture floods the air around, attached to the voice of the Spackle, but so loud and so…connected to the world, it can only be from 1017.

Something I don't understand, though: the picture in the Land is of me. 1017 is looking hard for me, stretching out to the farthest of his people in search.

My surprise is not the only here.

The two Land people click and shake their heads for a brief second because sending me a picture back through the network. I am here.

After a minute more of sharing, they turn to look at me with those eyes as fathomless as a starry night sky. Images float in their own Noise as they attempt to communicate to me. Though they are a little hard to understand, I can still see the Sky and Ben, and the little brown hut on top of the falls.

Something about it, though.

Maybe it's Todd.

My heart jams up into my throat and before I know it, I'm swinging up onto Angharrad again and she understands to run. We leap into the jungle like a rocket, flying through the trees as the Spackle attempt to follow, somewhat perplexed and innocent.

Wait. Where am I headed? When I came this way earlier, my eyes were blurred by tears and I was too distraught to see straight.

Angharrad slows to a trot, sensing my sudden uncertainty, breathing heavily once more. Girl colt?

After a few seconds, I hear another connection from another Spackle and I strain to understand, but they show me the way back.

"Todd," I answer simply to my horse and we take off again.

My hands shake and my heart is crammed up into my throat and I can't breathe, I can't think except for Todd. There's no guarantee that's what it meant when 1017 sent that picture, but I could feel it. I knew something happened.

As we near the camp, more voices flow in to greet my two escorts. Angharrad is forced to stop her frantic galloping in order not to step on small Spack children. It had taken yet another few hours to get back from the lake but—

We are here.

And we're both covered in sweat.

And Angharrad is walking.

And it isn't fast enough.

I drop off of her, stumble to my knees a few times, but manage to start sprinting through the peaceful aliens. Spackles building fires, gutting fish, skinning animals, tending to their young. So many eyes train on me, but I run.

Noise suddenly washes the air in front of me. Wait.

The sudden voice aimed at me makes me start skidding, adrenaline pumping violently through my veins as I try not to fall.

The Sky is in front of me, holding up his good arm to stop me. Wait.

What? No!

I shove past him and stumble accidentally into another Spack, but keep running.

I hear it, his Noise, Todd's Noise.

I can hear it coming from the little brown hut, again, but awake.

My heart starts pumping loudly in my throat, so loud I can't hear anything except.

Restless, anxious, distressed, impatient. It is as loud as it was before, but less readable, kind of like what Noise would look like if you'd poured water on pictures, all blurry and smeared.

Outside the hut, I stop.

Then,

VIOLA.

Without even realizing I took those last few steps, and I'm running into the hut.

Todd.

My feet are automatically carrying me to the bed and I'm suddenly enveloped in him.

His Noise, his arms, his warmth all around and inside of me. My name and face fills up every space between us, but there is none. He grips me tight to him in a suffocating embrace but I can't let go, I don't want to let go.

And I'm crying. Tears slide down both cheeks as I cling to Todd's neck and breathe him in. Todd, my Todd. You're alive… Todd.

I feel myself being lifted, weightless, but I'm still half- on the ground and half-on the bed, and I'm still choking with the immeasurable amount of affection I'm being cloaked with.

Viola, Viola, Viola… He doesn't even try to hide the pictures in his head. Me, the way I feel against him, how much he just wants to disappear inside of me.

I can feel his lips in my hair.

Viola, Viola, Viola. His Noise is different. More like Ben's.

But still filled with so much adoration it makes my chest feel tight.

My throat's too clogged for me to say anything. I just cling to him in a state of shock. If only I had Noise, he would know, he would know.

It's real this time. He's really awake.

Oh, Todd.

After such a long time, here he is.

Here in my arms.

Todd draws gently away from me, keeping his arms around me, but his eyebrows are furrowed. Yer all wet, he shows—shows.

My cheeks heat up automatically and I swallow. The front of his shirt is darkened from the water on my own.

But he's here. Hair still as shaggy as it was before, body oddly still defined form the months before—much taller than me, might I add—curved jaw and kind, dark eyes and—

My Todd.

Not a boy, but a man.

He puts his finger on my cheek and I shiver.

Automatically, Todd's Noise changed. It becomes worried and protective, though never less adoring. Frowning, he pulls me up next to him and puts his arms around my body, holding me to his chest.

Viola's cold—

Shivering—

So cold—

Viola, you're here—

I feel his Noise wrap me up and warm me from the inside out, along with the endless expanse of the world. But I can't stand looking into his eyes, because they're so alive and full of devotion, shining at me as if I am the only girl in the world.

Aw, no. Todd's expression droops, and his hands slacken on my waist. Yer crying.

I know. I've been doing that a lot lately, haven't I? Sucking in a deep breath, I force myself to calm down and open my eyes. An image clouds my thoughts—my own image—and I see him laying on a frozen beach, a hole blasted right through his body.

My fingers involuntarily go to Todd's torso, tracing the outline of the horrid, ragged scar I know he has. I can feel it even through his shirt.

Glancing up, I see Todd looking at me. His eyes, his Noise, his hands, everything about him is supporting me, drinking me in. I don't even really mind the picture creeping up into his head.

That image suddenly gets covered up, though, with mortified Noise and silent apologies and I can't help but laugh a little.

Funny?Todd's cheeks get even redder.

I start crying while I am laughing (again) and I have to bury my face in his chest to stop from becoming too hysterical.

"I can't believe it." My voice is rough and just barely a whisper. That is the truth.

My body keeps trembling from the cold, but I no longer feel it; Todd has warmed me from the inside out, his presence fixing everything, even if I don't quite believe it.

A gentle tongue of spring wind blows in through the open door, but it is enough to start me shivering again. My arms wrap around my legs and I huddle up close next to Todd on his little bed, wishing only that I really accept Todd's consciousness as the truth.

So cold…

Todd immediately pulls one of his own blankets off of his legs and wraps it around my shoulders. His lips move in silent words, but his mind is saying everything that his mouth isn't.

Don't be cold,he thinks, Noise flaring so protectively and tenderly it almost hurts. I have you. You're okay. Viola, my Viola—

"TODD."

It is only when I hear that voice I'm finally brought to the awareness that another Noise is approaching our little hut rapidly.

Without another second to spare, Ben suddenly bursts in, Todd all over his Voice. He sees his son and rushes over. I barely even have the time to stumble out of the way, tripping over the big blanket around me, before Ben is falling onto the bed and wrapping his arms around Todd and holding him.

"My son," he's whispering, and the words are filling the entire hutch. My son, my boy. Todd.

We're crying, all three of us.

Even the Land's voice outside changed a little, fitting the relief of the situation.

When Ben lets go and stands up, whole mind reeling with everything, Todd tries to get up, too.

"Careful, son." With a warning glare and caring Noise, Ben puts his hands gently on Todd's shoulders and makes him lay back down. You're still healing. The Sky claims your physical body is healed, but your mind is still fragile.

Todd opens his mouth to protest, but I can't help but let out another little laugh.

"Just mind him, Todd," I tell him, and his mouth closes.

Yes, mim.

I laugh again, but it turns into crying.

At once, Todd's Noise glazed over with worry and he makes to reach out for me where I sit next to his bed. Over and over, my name, ViolaViolaViola. Don't cry.

Ben, though he understands, forces himself to stand up tall. I should let everyone know. Bradley. Lee.

Just then, a calm presence fills the hut once again and the Sky is standing behind us, staring at Todd, thought quiet and still.

At the presence of the Spack, I feel my chest tighten and between one second and the next, I find myself between Todd and 1017.

Todd's Noise is briefly confused, but then a memory flashes across his mind: the moment before he was shot, feeling a hole ripped through him, pain, me, and blackness, blackness. Dark and Cold. There's an unexpected peace washed over the memory, though, one I don't understand.

The peace is still soft as Todd touches my arm. Viola.

Fine.

Still hesitant, I grip his fingers and move so I'm not between the healer and the healed.

The Land has mended the physical form, starts 1017 softly, yet the same expansive, endless feeling of the Spackle's voice. But only time can restore the heart and mind.

Ben, being Ben, shows the utmost respect towards the Sky and bows his head a little, nothing but gratitude and relief painting his Noise. It twined around 1017's own voice and lifted the air. "Thank you. We are in your debt."

With what appears to be almost boredom, 1017 glances down at his thin, purple, destroyed arm, not saying anything.

And, Ben adds, we'll tend to your arm to the best of our abilities before it gets any worse.

The Sky doesn't thank Ben. He just stares at him with those black eyes for a moment before nodding and leaving the hutch. The second he's gone, Ben turns back to his son and sits gingerly on the edge of the bed, Noise worried and caring and full of such love it almost feels embarrassing witnessing it. There are also questions in there, concerned ones.

From his bed, Todd gives his father a weak smile. He hears Ben's Noise and knows why the Sky is in such bad shape, but for the first time in his life, he keeps his mouth shut when he should.

"Will you be okay, son?" Ben asks quietly, and then in his mind, adds, while I go down to Haven and spread the news and make sure the Sky is tended for.

I'll be fine, Ben, Todd says voice annoyed, but it is also caring. Pictures of me float around in his Noise, thoughts of how he'd like to hold me and just be with me and listen to my voice and not have to worry about the world right now. Such wonderful and affectionate feelings that surely every single Spackle outside can hear.

My cheeks turn bright red and I wish he'd at least try to cover that up around others. I shift a little on the chair I'm sitting on.

Though Ben's eyebrows are rising near his hairline and his thoughts are most curious, he just clears his throat and says, "I'll be back soon, okay? Don't worry." Before he leaves, though, Ben turns back and a gentle sentence speaks from his mind. I love you, son.

Images of Ben and Cillian and Todd when Todd was young fills the latter's mind as Ben leaves the hutch. For a few minutes we watch where he left, watch the Spackle a ways away, watch the little buds on the trees tremble in the cool spring breeze.

I barely notice the interested tone Todd's voice took until he addresses me directly.

What's that face for? he asks, struggling to sit up. It's obvious he's still a little sore.

"Hm?" I turn and look at him.

It's only been six months, and he was asleep for all of it, but still. Something about the way Todd is tilting his head just a little bit with his eyes narrowed just a little bit and his Noise so very, very different. He just seems more grown-up, mature. More like a man.

Todd repeats what he said, both face and Noise smiling. What's that face for? Yer giving me a funny look.

The way I'm looking at him pops up in his mind and he's right. It's a terribly funny look.

"Sorry," I say quietly, wishing he could hear my thoughts, hear how I feel. There's so much inside of me that's tangled up. "You're just…alive. Six months, Todd. Six months." Tears that I'm trying to keep from my eyes get jammed in my throat, causing me to hiccup, and I stare down at my hands. "I missed you."

Again, affection and yearning swell from him and spread so thick and vivid through the Land's voice it reaches the end of the world and back. There are images and memories bundled up in it, some blurred, overlapped. Me in my silent days when we traveled together, before I was talking to him. The fights we would get into but would always forgive each other for. Running through the forest, sleeping under the stars. How he felt back in "New Prentisstown" when we were separated. When he snuck in my window that one night and we lay for an hour on my bed, just being with one another. That kiss.

He blinked and another memory surfaces: the time when he'd gone completely quiet, thoughts silenced by the mayor's crazy chanting, how upset that made me.

"Silence isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?" I say, the corners of my mouth turning upwards, and I move only to sit next to him on his little mossy cot.

Todd grins, too, as crooked and kind as ever. It sure ain't. After a second, he shows, I…I wish I could read you.

"…So do I." Oh, the things he would finally understand.

When Todd stretches out to get more comfortable, I lay down on my side next to him, watching the wrinkles the bandages made from under his shirt. He seems overall healthy, just as long as you forget the once-gaping hole right under his ribs.

The tranquility of the noise coming from Todd is a little unnerving. When we first met, it was everywhere and angry and loud, with a roar like standing next to a waterfall. The words and pictures and feelings made me dizzy and gave me a headache. Now, ever since we reached Haven all of those months ago, it gradually became more organized and light. Sure, it had vanished completely for a bit, but returned…

Next to Todd, right now, his Noise is more than tolerable. It hummed like a river, swayed like trees in the wind, ebbed and flowed like it's part of nature itself, the memories and thoughts washing around us. They go from nothing but me to everything in the world but me.

I see Todd's old farm, the day he had to run, Cillian and Ben giving him the rucksack and telling him they loved him, the fight him and Cillian has before that happened and all of the self-disgust attached to that being the last things they said to each other.

I see pictures of Mayor Prentiss, the hatred Todd has for him, when he finally got eaten by that giant sea creature.

I see Davy Prentiss Jr. and the mixed feelings about him, the two men riding together on horseback every day, eating sandwiches under the hot summer sun, beating one another senseless, Davy handing Todd his ma's book back, offering to read it to him. The gunshot, the blood, Davy falling to the ground after apologizing for everything. So much guilt and pain and confusion.

I see Manchee and the Spackle Todd killed and him putting those bands on women and missing his ma and pa and Aaron nearly killing me and me killing Aaron and there's Cillian again and Davy again and all the dead Spackle and pain, loss, sorrow. The darkness, shame, grief, so much grief.

It seems to have Todd in a grip, squeezing him hurting him, hurting and hurting and refusing to let go.

From where I'm lying next to Todd, I watch as a tear falls from one of his closed eyes.

Oh, Todd…

With a gentle touch, I wipe a tear away and tuck the blankets up to his chin.

"It ain't polite listening to other people's Noise," Todd says, trying to smile. His voice is scratchy and painful-sounding from months of not being used. Did no one never tell you that?

"Only every day," I say, but I can't seem to get used to the way his Noise…isn't noisy. It still speaks his thoughts and feelings but is so soft and expansive, like Todd fills the whole world, every leaf on every tree and every song every bird sings, and the whole world fills him. It's really hard to explain, but so real and natural and everywhere.

"So does this mean you can speak the Spackle language now?" I ask quietly after a long time of just listening.

It ain't quite like that, he replies, closing his eyes again. Everything about him suggests exhaustion even though he had been asleep for months. It ain't spoken and it ain't really a language. I don't know what it is.

"I can see that." And it's the truth.

All I see are pictures, feelings, memories or every Spackle, oddly enough, but it's not like I can hear their thoughts, too. I just know Todd's now part of something bigger now. Something beautiful.

Though everything about Todd has always seemed beautiful to me. His soul is so pure and good, unlike so many other's we've encountered on our journeys. With his new Noise—sorry, voice—all of that is just amplified.

He's wrapped around me, inside of me, even though only our hands were touching. His voice cradles my body, seeming so strong that it pulls several of the natives into it, and I feel that the expanse of the whole Land loves me and will sacrifice everything for me.

But it's just Todd, and that's all I want.

Just Todd.

"You know…" My fingers loosen from his and I bring them up to trace creases on his shirtfront, wanting to laugh at the change in his Noise. "Ben was just being polite when he left. It was just so we could have a moment before everything becomes chaos."

It's always chaos, Todd shows, eyes opening, still grinning and heart still thrumming nervously against my fingertips.

Through his Noise it seems kind of like he's stretching himself to see our past our own hut. In there I could see and feel Ben and in there are other distant thoughts. Bradley, knowing to wait to see Todd, Lee and a flush of excitement, so many people, all around, Todd's name and face and a layer of impatience.

That's a lot of people.

"It is." I smile widely again, feeling his breath warm on my cheek. "When you get well enough I'll introduce you to them. We can go down to Haven, and if you still want to…"

Memories of something Todd had said last year echoed inside of his voice. Leaving the city. Going to the outer settlements to put down our roots, or even make our own settlements. Us and Tam and Hildy and Wilf and Jane and Ben and Lee, a few others.

"Yes." The feeling in Todd's voice leaps again when I go ahead and nestle against him, wrapping my arms around his waist and tucking my head under his chin. "Yes, if you still want to, yes. I'll go with you. Anywhere."

Don't worry. That idea is starting to sound kinda far-fetched… he thinks, and then an image of old Prentisstown surfaces.

"Anywhere," I repeat.

Todd's Noise washes over with peace and fondness, but he says nothing as his arms wrap around me as well, eyes closed and lips turned into a smile.

Tired… his voice sighs.

Words slide through in no particular order: Spackle—Ben—Davy—Haven—Viola, my Viola—

Slowly, the words grow quieter and less distinguishable as Todd falls into a deep sleep.

This time, it was a sleep that I'm okay with, one that still thrives with life, Noise still purring gently. His heartbeat is still felt in his throat and his chest still rises and falls with every breath.

"Good night," I whisper to Todd, closing my eyes as well, only welcoming sleep if it wanted to come. "Sweet dreams…"

Filled with a happiness and relief that I haven't known in so long, I listen to the sound of the Land and of my Todd as they sang from both ends of the world, joining together and only stopping where the stars start.

oOo

Yeah, the end was cheesy-squeezy. So what.

This was meant to only be a one-shot, but I suppose I'm growing too fond of Todd and Viola to stop here. There may be a more particular plot or I may just ramble with life as it is after Todd wakes up.

Please review! I know there aren't that many decent Chaos Walking fanfictions out there, so if you think mine is one of the few, pretty please let me know!