Ahoy there, Natanatics, welcome aboard on my first Natan! xD This would consist of two parts. Originally I just wanted it to be a 3000- to 4000-word one-shot, but after I sat in front of my laptop, typed the words, drank coffee, typed some more, downed my second cup of coffee, and decided to give it a shufti to take a five-minute break, I was like spraying my fifth cup of coffee all over the house because I realized that I already have 14 LONG pages and I'm not even halfway through it. So after much debating, I decided to divide this particular story into two, thus giving birth to my first T39C two-shot.

I'm convinced that the lengths of my one-shots are so drool-worthy, I have to control the words from coming out. I might have to watch my word count…next time…

Or not. Freestyle writing is so much fun. Bashers, hush. ('Bashers' is the right term for it, right?)

[Insert disclaimer here.]

Lost Hearts
Part One

As her petite, little Jimmy-Choo-heeled feet made tousling noises when she grumpily trudged through the sticks and the twigs and the crisp, pesky mass of autumn leaves that shambolically littered the scruffy forest grounds, she voiced out the one blasted thing that she'd been trying to drill into his brainless skull for hours now.

"Face it, Daniel, we're lost."

Dan rolled his eyes as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard on his entire life.

"Re-laaax," he assured with a carefree smile, most probably for the thirty-ninth time, with an overplayed tone of gleefulness as he looked at her over his shoulder. "You don't need to worry about anything. I know exactly where we're going."

She gritted her teeth. He was positively confident at whatever it was he thought he was doing with such an air of professionalism that Natalie had to hold her trembling fists so tightly to herself to prevent them from meeting the back of his tick-ridden head.

It annoyed her that he was taking this more of as a leisurely stroll like it was a normal day in the park when Natalie practically considered this as hell. Well, look at him! He was being so calm, hands in his pockets, whistling a Justin Bieber tune as he walked just as coolly, acting like they weren't even lost at all! One thing was for certain—he lost it. Why didn't Dan always take serious matters seriously? Was Natalie the only one worried sick about their lost situation? Or, for that matter, was she the only one with a brain? Getting stuck in the middle of nowhere with Pain-iel Ar-thorn Cahill wasn't really her cup of tea.

So, she did her best to keep her shaking fists still. Even though smacking him right then and there was so bloodytempting.

Natalie was thinking this when her eyes suddenly caught sight of a small cluster of growing, poisonous mushrooms, like a little bundle of umbrellas with green and yellow colours so bright that they almost looked neon. At first sight she was able to identify them as poisonous, (of course, as she belonged to the elite branch of the Lucians, master of poisons,) but aside from that, she also knew that they've passed by that very cluster of mushrooms…

…three times already.

The heavy reality sank even deeper into the pits of her stomach.

"Daniel, I'm warning you," Natalie threatened ominously, though there was a tangible, nervous waver in her voice even as she tried to sound a little bit braver than how she actually felt. Her eyes darted nervously all around the forest, the mere sound of the nearby rushing of the river making her a little queasy. "I'm g-going to shove those mushrooms down your throat if you don't get me home now."

But he ignored the threat with a casual eye-roll. Being with her for, like, four hours now in this bloody forest, he had grown quite immune to these death threats and was unaffected by the most recent one. Because, so far, out of all the million threats Natalie had threatened him with in the last few hours, she thankfully hadn't actually done any of it (except for when she slapped him on the cheek for reals—still hurts.)

As he was walking, though, he saw something on the ground that suddenly got him so hysterically excited. He looked at Natalie with such joy in his eyes that she immediately grew so irritated of.

"Oh, look, footprints!" he declared, bending down onto his knees to peer excitedly on the four pairs of footprints stamped lightly onto the leafy forest floor. He pointed to the said footprints, absolutely thrilled to find out that there were some people out there that they could go to and ask for some help on how to go back home.

"Let's follow 'em!" he continued. "Maybe they'll lead us to actual humans! I'm sick of talking with a snake."

Natalie couldn't help but share with his enthusiasm. It would be nice to have someone else to talk to other than a thorn. She curiously bent over beside him to examine the footprints, and—

"They're our footprints, you moron, we've been walking around in circles for hours now!" She all but slapped her palm onto her forehead when she recognized the marks—two pairs from Nike shoes, and two pairs from Jimmy Choo shoes, meaning they'd walked through this path two times already, and this was the third. "We still haven't found home. It's starting to grow dark!"

She frantically pointed to the red-orange sun whose light slowly began to get devoured by the black of night. The auburn rays of light shyly peered through the gaps in the leaves of the broadly branched acacia trees from overhead, and the shadows were getting definitely longer. Not to mention the annoying sound made by the hidden bands of crickets. Natalie almost jumped from her skin in terror when an owl brusquely sped past her the speed of light.

"My navigating skills are awesome," Dan assured her as he confidently pointed a hand to his chest rather proudly. "Trust me," he repeated, as if trying to assure himself this time. "We'd survive."

Natalie didn't want to admit it, but she believed him. Every word of it. She quietly nodded to herself with wavering conviction, forcing herself to believe that she wasn't lost. No, she absolutely wasn't. Although her companion was kind of a cretin, he still knew (or proclaimed he knew) the way back to the Cahill Manor. She'd be getting home soon, in the warm quilts in one of the rooms of Grace's fancy mansion, with her older brother there to keep her safe and sound from any wild, nocturnal animal that might slaughter her in her sleep *cough*Daniel*cough. The idea of getting lost in this forest without a real, live, actual human being as a companion would be something so tedious for her.

And, ahem, Daniel was more of like an Unidentified Annoying Object.

But she told herself that she would have to endure him in this one. It was because he was so sure of himself, or at least looked like it. He'd been bragging to her for hours that he knew just the way out of this hole that he had dug for themselves, and it was hard not to turn to the positive side even if all the negatives were swirling around. Natalie had only been following him uncertainly from behind all along, even though she didn't trust his 'awesome navigating skills'—because, well, it's not like she had any other choice. Parting ways with him, when, she, herself, didn't know a way out of this forest, would not be considered very smart. That meant she had to tolerate his stupidity for just a little bit more, until they got home.

If they got home.

"Oh, look, nice bush," Dan randomly pointed out, hands casually put behind his head as he walked forward. Natalie was getting frustrated at this kind of carefree attitude, but decided to take this situation with professional restrain. Calm, she told herself. Just be bloody calm.

"This," she hissed, "is the third time we're passing by that very bush."

Dan's every muscle froze after hearing that. A few moments of silence passed.

Then he finally gave in.

He let out an exhausted sigh as his hands fall tiredly onto his sides, arms dangling like dead earthworms from his suddenly slumped shoulder, all that cool façade evaporating away like a liquid mask.

"Alrightalrightalright, I admit, Nat, we're lost."

Professional restrain turned to animalistic rage.

"What?!"

Natalie knew she shouldn't be so surprised that he lacked his so-called 'awesome navigating skills' despite him having rather impressive photographic memory (not that she would ever say that aloud.) But, even so, she couldn't help wanting to tear his head off for lying to her that he knew 'exactly' where they were going. Without consciously realizing it, she had actually put her trust onto this blockheaded mutt, and the aforementioned fact merely frustrated her even more. She hated that he just burned that trust, no matter how little, like a giant bonfire against a plain piece of paper.

"I hate you!" she finally blurted, almost on the verge of tears. "I'm lost in the middle of nowhere with you, and, even worse,"—she held out her dainty set of long, delicate fingers out to him—"my nails have been broken!"

Dan visibly perked up. Because, heck, (please pardon the language,) Dan couldn't even think of one single thing worse than this spoiled, bratty little witch. He thought all his life that the feeling was mutual, so he was a little surprised to know that she was thinking that her nails were even worse than him.

"Really?"

"No, no," Natalie quickly covered up her words with a furious shake of her head, reddening out of anger. "Being with you is even worse!"

"Gee, thanks."

"And look at my nails!" she rambled on, squawking at full volume as if the world was about to end. "The manicure—oh my word the MANICURE—it's starting to chip off! I really must go home to make a redo now! AND IT'S YOUR FAULT I'M STILL OUTSIDE HERE IN THIS BLOODY FOREST!"

The piercing shriek grilled his ears so hard that Dan visibly flinched.

"If you don't stop whining about your freaking nails, I'm warning you—you'd find yourself buried alive around in here any second now."

"I wouldn't worry about that," grumbled an annoyed Natalie, voice now emptied of volume as she let her annoyed foot grudgingly kick at an annoying rock that annoyingly stood in her annoying way. "You don't even have the guts to hurt a fly."

Now, Dan laughed at that. "Oh, I wouldn't?" he taunted, all but spitting those little words out. "We kicked you Cobras' butts in the Clue hunt, in case you forgot."

—and when the atmosphere suddenly froze to ice, he immediately regretted what he just said. Natalie was as stiff as a rock.

Dan knew he'd satisfactorily hit a nerve. For a second, he almost felt sorry for her.

But not too sorry, of course.

Eventually, though, Natalie got over it. She stomped on ahead of him, purposefully colliding against him with her shoulder so that he released an offended 'Hey!', her hands clenched tightly by her sides, and her posture definitely resembling that of a walking statue. If there ever was one, anyway, she was certainly the first.

"Would you please just shut up!" she shouted, right when she was already at quite a distance, so that her voice took upon an echo to give each syllable an extra emphasis.

Dan decided that her suggestion was probably not a bad idea. Natalie was scary when she got seriously riled up.

"Alright, shutting up."

"Seven billion," she continued, raging to herself like mad. "Seven billion bloody people in this bloody world. The odds are seven billion blasted people to one. Why do I have to be stuck with you?"

Dan eventually caught up with her, but he was having an extremely hard time trying to keep up with her angry pace. He decided to be a bit friendlier in trying to talk to her this time, without any reference to the past or whatnot—he didn't know why, but he just noticed that those kinds of things were what seemed to aggravate these touchy Cobras the most, just like the touchy Cobras they were. Even Amy seemed to notice that kind of rather 'touchy' attitude whenever she talked to Ian with references to the past.

So he silently promised to himself that, until they got out of this forest, he'd at least try to be on friendlier terms with her. Well, yes, she was a Kabra. And yes, she was a Cobra. But other than that, he could say that he and Natalie couldn't be any more similar. They were both orphans, and the only person they can trust their entire life with was their older siblings—the least they could do as distant cousins in similar situations was try to get along. He wouldn't want Natalie to just go stomping away and leaving him on his own right now, because they had to get out of this mess together.

It was a whether-they-liked-it-or-not kind of situation.

"Excuse me!" he said, panting, adding a tinge of an offended tone into his voice, in continuation to their previous conversation. "May I just remind you that Amy thinks that she is, like, the luckiest girl alive because she has an extremely awesome ninja lord for a brother, a.k.a., me."

Natalie sharply turned around and gave him one incredulous look, from the very tip of a dirty toe untouched for hundred centuries to the very top of a standing strand of blond hair that stood up straight among its messy brothers that probably hadn't even met the thing called 'comb'.

"You?" she derided him, and not with a very nice tone. "From what I know, having a brother who once hid his sister's diary in his underwear drawer is any girl's worst nightmare."

"H-Hey!" Dan spluttered, a little embarrassed, his face gathering all the reds in the world it was a wonder how it even fit. Man, that happened like five years ago—he thought Amy forgot about it already. "I told Amy not to tell anyone that!"

"How bizarre." Natalie almost chuckled at his flustered reaction, which was a rarity. "I never thought you had the capacity, but you're actually embarrassed?"

"No, I'm Dan. Why do you guys keep forgetting my real name?"

Natalie rolled her eyes at this, starting to walk away, but the male Madrigal kept on talking, following at her heels.

"And, FYI, deep inside, Amy loves me! Unlike you—Ian probably thinks you're the worst natty gnat who ever lived. Especially since you can't do anything in your life except care about your stupid, broken little nails." He gave her a sideways glance, already forgetting all about the promise he made to himself to try to be on friendlier terms with this Cobratic brat. Bantering with her was more fun. "So sorry for stepping on your itty-bitty ego the size of an entire planet."

"You insolent simian," Natalie threatened, her hand already finding the handle of the dart gun hidden in her purse. "Are you asking to die?"

"Why do you ask, O asking one?"

"Because I'd be very glad to attend to your funeral."

"What makes you so sure that an obnoxious Cobra like you would even be invited in the first place?"

"Don't you dare talk to me that way, Daniel!"

Dan palmed his face in exasperated frustration. "Ugh, why DO you Brits like calling me that?" Because, seriously. That's an unanswered issue.

Natalie waved her fingers at the air over her nose to drive the horrid scent away. "Never stand that close to me where I can smell your breath."

"What th—hey!" he called out to her as she just calmly walked forward, not even a tinge of regret onto her face for saying those insulting words. Shocked, and more so seriously offended this time, even Dan knew that that was something rude to say (even if his undomesticated hygiene was an actual truth).

"Take that back! Now that's a little uncalled for!"

Natalie gritted her teeth, trying to keep her calm as she closed her eyes and drew in a calming breath. "I have an idea," she seethed out through a forced smile. "Why don't we play…a game?"

Dan paused for a while before her words sank in. One of his fists rocketed skywards in a 'Yesss! Something fuunn!' Because, finally, he thought, Cobra's not being so much of a sourpuss.

"Awwwwesssoome! I didn't know you played games!" He cracked his knuckles as if thinking that the game Natalie had in mind was the wrestle-to-the-DEATH kind of game that the brute Eisenhower Do—er, Holt, was so incredibly fond of. "Bring it on! I'll make sure to cream you."

"It's called Whoever Has a Shut Mouth the Longest Would Win."

Dan wilted. "You're no fun."

"It's not like I'm really having any."

"Not my fault your brain's too narrow to contain any sense of humour."

Natalie was getting more and more infuriated with each and every single painful little word that escaped this imbecilic peasant's filthy little mouth. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere, no idea of where to drive their feet to, and Dan was thinking about bloody senses of humour?

"You know," she couldn't help hissing, "This forest isn't the only thing that's dense."

"Meaning what?" he easily fired with a grin. "There's something wrong with you?"

She lost it. Finally. "I WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU, YOU STUPID, AMERICAN GIT!"

"I think my left eardrum just broke."

"ARGH!" Natalie was positively livid now—but not that kind of positive, mind you, as she towered over him menacingly, screaming like there was no tomorrow. Dan thought that he all but shrunk the size of a helpless ant against a stark raving mad ogress with her teeth protruding out like angry blood-stained fangs as she yelled out, "OH, I COULD JUST SLAP YOU!"

Dan didn't know why, but he didn't even feel threatened by that. Back when they were still trying to get a grab for their necks in the Clue Hunt, yes, he probably would have been frightened, scrambling for the safety of being under the bed. But things had changed. Now, though, he thought that this most recent threat was so meaningless he actually chuckled. He just continued strolling forward after giving her a sideways 'Pfft', completely unperturbed.

"Slap me? Oh ho ho, hold it right there," he answered. "You don't even have the guts to do that."

Natalie stared after him in disbelief. How dare this vixen even think that she, Natalie Hollingsworth-Kabra of the Lucian Branch, was actually incapable of doing something she was on the desperate verge of doing? Was he challenging her or…or testing her or something?

"Oh, I wouldn't?!"

"Nope." Dan had stopped walking, hands casually put inside the pockets of his baggy shorts, a calm smile spreading over his face. He didn't know why he was even smiling, but that didn't matter. Fact was, he was absolutely certain that Natalie Kabra wasn't that bad after all, now that her nasty excuse of a mother wasn't around anymore to boss her children around like they were mutated robots. (He didn't know if mutated robots even made sense, but whatever.) The important thing was, Natalie had positively changed—and, this time, it was that kind of positive. She was only taken care of by a pair of bad guys' hands, but truth was, she was born with a kind heart—and Dan was sure that it would show overtime once she gets used to the fact that her mother was now rotting in jail, thank goodness. Now, it was rare of Dan to think of things leaking of such puke-able profound sappiness, but, for the moment, as he thought of Natalie, he couldn't help letting his thoughts wander.

Then, he turned to face her, jade green eyes meeting impatient amber ones, his expression completely certain, completely calm. He knew, he believed, that she wouldn't ever be able to hurt anyone, never. (He might be an exception at the way he liked to cross her all the time, though, but still.) He was absolutely positive about that being a concrete truth, so he simply voiced it out, slapping cement right onto his own words with conviction and finality—

"You wouldn't."

Natalie seemed to hear the hidden message behind the sincerity of his voice. Unbeknownst to herself, her entire body lost the raving tension she had just had mere moments ago, and her eyes held an expression of discernible affection. It was as if the words themselves had caused an unknown emotion stir up from within and spread throughout her entire body to petrify her in its flourishing sense of warmth.

Her hand was still in the air, though, ready to slap him just as she had declared she would. It was so tempting, to just slap him, just like that, so satisfyingly hard, but now that Dan had said those words, conflicting, second thoughts about her capabilities to really hurt someone else had risen and kept her hand frozen right in mid-air. Can I hurt him? Can I really do something like that? Would I really have the guts to do it? Dan cocked an eyebrow at her show of hesitancy, as if even daring her to slap him, and Natalie wanted to do just that, but something…something else was stopping her.

She couldn't.

Releasing a shuddering breath, she withdrew her hand back to herself, feeling like a complete, utter failure in doing so.

'What a useless child.'

It was such a ridiculous, laughable thing, to actually believe that non-existent voice that always seemed to whisper to her like she, that woman, was still beside her, and not in the jail where everyone else said she belonged. True, she wasn't here anymore to scold her, to force her, to order her around and do as she pleased, but still, still, Natalie heard her voice in the very back of her mind, dwelling over there to haunt her by day and night. She was just like a living nightmare, reminding Natalie that for every time she failed to live out their 'Lucian values' and 'Kabra attitudes', she was a failure.

It was Isabel.

She clenched her hands into fists, then let them fall heavily by her sides.

"…let's go."

Natalie said this quietly, and Dan dared not to say anything after that. He merely nodded and followed suit, to wherever it was they were unknowingly heading to.

Now, with the constant bickering gone and nothing else to distract the thoughts of their minds, the reality of their situation that they were so utterly lost started to actually dawn upon them—although, if you wanted to get technical about it, the sky itself was very, very far from dawn. In fact, the night had settled, the moon now high up in the sky, a full, white mirror of lunar silver on the star-studded sky, their respective rays of light peeking through the canopy of leaves. Nocturnal noises had come to life, the variety of crickets, the flurry of insects, and the distant hooting of the owls filling up the hollow silence. The two of them trudged forwards as they quietly followed the edge of the cliff, where a dynamic river streamed actively from down below, its flowing waters rushing and filling the silence with life. The leaves and broken twigs were trampled upon under the marching of their feet as they kept on walking under the cloak of the pitch black darkness.

The wind blew, and that brought the cold upon the two of them. Dan shuddered as his hands instinctively flew up to his arms to rub them with warmth—oh, crapoodles, he regretted not bringing his jacket, please pardon the language. He saw Natalie do the same.

"Cold weather, huh?" he said, in an attempt to spark up another conversation. It was getting eerily quiet, and he could use some small talk over here. At least to forget the fact that they were lost in the middle of nowhere (yeahyeahyeah they were lost because of him but whatever)—because, hey, it's not healthy to dwell over the negative side of things. Natalie seemed to have a habit of doing just that, and he felt sort of the responsible one here to, you know, drift her mind away from those negative thoughts and let her face the sunshine.

Okay, okay, alright—moonshine.

But Natalie didn't sound like herself when she answered. "Y-yes, yes," she spluttered, "c-cold weather."

It was an automatic response for Dan to arch an eyebrow. He didn't know what the cause of the stutter was, because for all he knew, he never heard Natalie Kabra stutter—but maybe it was because of the cold wind?

Dan let himself observe her for another minute, as if trying to search her for answers. And—and—

There.

He noticed it.

And there. There it was again.

And again.

Oh.

"Hey, Nat…" he started, uncomfortably, and he had stopped walking, hand awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

Although she was perfectly aware that Dan had stopped walking, Natalie kept on, letting some of her irritability seep right into her tone. "What?"

Now, how to say this? Dan was completely clueless of how to deal with these kinds of situations, but he took the plunge, anyway.

"Uh…Natalie?" he tried again, with more conviction this time. He pointed at her foot. Her left foot.

"You're…" He gulped. "You're limping."

"So?" she snapped. Her bitterness was evident, and, even Dan, who thought that he was perfectly immune to whatever snappish response he received from the bitterest of Lucians, flinched at the snappish tone. Natalie didn't even stop walking—she was afraid to turn around and show him the pained expression etched right onto her face in very vibrant colours—she was absolutely determined not and never to admit to him her weakness. "M-Mind your own business, you idiot."

"Did I just say something wrong?" Dan concernedly said. He walked forward to her, reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, saying, "Are you alri—"

"I said I'm alright!"

Dan reeled back at the words for a second, before his expression turned into anger. "Well, so sorry for being concerned, but your arthritis is—"

Natalie wheeled around, turning on the heel of her left foot to face him, to shout, to scream, to yell at him in all her vehemence—

"I DO NOT HAVE ARTHRITIS!"

—but her left foot wasn't as strong as it had been before. In its weakened state, it gave another painful jolt, causing her to lose support for her balance and fall, her one Jimmy Choo shoe slipping from her left foot and falling down from the edge of the cliff and into the river. There was the ominous sound of rocks and soil falling off from the cliff and landing straight onto the sharp rocks that seemed to eagerly wait for them from down below. She was shouting, she was falling, because she would have to suffer the same fate if—if—

"Hey, watch it!"

—if Dan hadn't quickly grabbed onto her flailing hand.

Frightened, Natalie clasped onto her life saver's hands and trampled down onto her pride. She had closed her eyes so tightly that the many wrinkles forming at the areas around her eyes could easily become permanent ones. She was screaming, the sound shrill and absolutely air-shattering, resonating throughout the forest as she unconsciously buried herself into Dan's chest, clutching his shirt with all the valour that her knuckles possessed, so hard that she thought she might just rip it off. But she didn't care.

"DON'T LET ME FALL, DON'T LET ME FALL, OH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T LET ME FALL, I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!"

All she cared about was the screaming of those very words, over and over again, as if they were her lifeline for her now-endangered life—she didn't even want to open her eyes and see herself get splattered all over the sharp rocks from down below, and even though she did expect the pain to crash against her body once she hit the rocks any second now, she wanted to have no visual (bloody) memory of it. She didn't want to die, she didn't want to die, and with every chant that echoed inside of her skull like a loud, booming gong, her hands clenched even tighter onto his shirt, head buried deeper into his chest, because, no, she didn't want to d—

"Uh, Natalie?" Dan awkwardly said. He suddenly looked like he didn't know what to do with himself, what with the Cobratic girl clutching him like a leech. "Get off of me now."

Natalie's eyes snapped open as she realized what she had just been doing, and realized that it was just her panicking. She frantically scrambled out of him, roughly pushing him away from her as if she was suddenly disgusted of the thing she had just been clutching like totally.

"Get away from me, you filthy peasant!" she said as she clambered away from him, turning her back to him just as heatedly, which was more of as an effort to hide the embarrassment from her face. She tried to distract herself by dusting off dust from her precious Prada dress, but then all she could hear was the lapping of her fallen left shoe from down the river where its laces had caught between the rocks so the constant streaming and rushing of the river didn't wash it away. It kept reminding her that she could very well have ended in that shoe's situation right now, dead and unreachable, had it not for the heroic efforts of Dan.

Daniel Arthur Cahill.

UGH.

She didn't like the feeling of owing somebody something, and she now undoubtedly owed Dan with her life. Of all bloody people she could be indebted with, why did it have to be him? Ugh, ugh, a thousand UGHs! It frustrated her to no end that her life seemed to actually like playing with her this way.

"Soooooo…" started Dan, a little uncertain of how to point it out to her. It had been an unwritten rule for their Kabra cousins never to mention anything about Isabel and what she did back in the Gauntlet. The wounds were far too painful that they could easily just be opened at the slightest touch of the blades of words. Ian would probably kill him if Dan even dared remind Natalie of the tragedy of her left foot, where her very mother had shot it so carelessly with a gun. Everyone else was practically forbidden in saying it aloud, never—punishment was murder, courtesy of Ian Kabra.

But Dan said it aloud, anyway.

"Your left foot." He pointed at one shoeless foot. "You can't walk."

"I c-can!" Natalie insisted as she whirled around to face him, supporting herself with her right foot this time, the angry red on her face so noticeable even in the dark of night. "See!"

She attempted to walk a few times towards him, and Dan couldn't help but notice at how hard she strained herself to make every step with her left foot as normal and un-painful-looking as possible—he was almost convinced that she was doing just fine, though, because she was so good at keeping that impervious mask plastered all over her face as she did her job.

But the mask didn't last.

Dan hurried over to her with the concerned words of "Look out!" unconsciously finding themselves out of his mouth when he saw what was coming next. Natalie had wobbled dangerously when she had gingerly stepped onto her left foot, and for a second Dan thought that she was going to fall into that cliff for real this time, (come to think of it, why were they even walking beside this dangerous cliff in the first place?) but thankfully he was quick-acting.

Natalie had released a small 'Eeep!', a horrified expression displayed in the vivid colours of the rainbow all over her face as she shut her eyes so tightly close, just like earlier, as if already expecting her face to smash right onto the forest floor but not wanting to witness any of it in Technicolor. But, contrary to what she expected to happen, instead, her hands landed right onto Dan, who slightly wobbled and swayed for a few seconds at the force of the impact of her weight onto his shoulder, but he was able to get a firm grip of her anyway.

Puke. That was the one word Dan tried not to put so much focus on at the moment. Because he was so sick of playing hero for this little brat—for two times, they were like in this position where their bodies were so close, for TWO TIMES!—that he felt like just wanting to puke.

"Face it," Dan said, trying to sound as nonchalantly as he ever could, putting one hand onto her left shoulder as if that could help steady her balance. "Your arthritis is acting up. We need to get some sleep, somewhere around here."

Dan could see a slight sheen of moist glistening in Natalie's eyes when she titled her head to purposefully avoid his gaze, the moonlight coincidentally striking those tearful ambers. Shadows seemed to flick through those eyes like memories unwantedly stirring to life, and for a second Dan thought that she was actually about to say something un-snappish for the first time when she tentatively opened her mouth to speak.

"Where in that thick head of yours do you feel like you have authority over me?"

Or maybe not.

"Is that stubbornness a pride thing?" Dan said exhaustedly, making sure that his hand still rested onto her shoulder to keep her standing, although she had no reaction to it—or was trying not to react, for that matter. Well, come to think of it, even if she still had some of her Cobra-ness shining through in her snappish words, she didn't even swat his hand away, almost as if trying to be polite enough not to shake it off even if she wanted to. It was as if she wanted this help from him, for the first time in her life.

That was a one time thing.

"No, it's not a stubbornness thing, it's more of like a girl thing," she responded, eyes still away from his. "We girls don't want boys dominating every inch of the land."

"Ehhhh. Girls, pride, what's the difference? The two are interchangeable."

But Natalie merely ignored the remark, her eyes still firmly fixed onto the prize—which was getting out of this Earthly Hades as soon as possible. "No," she said, that one word dripping of unbridled determination, fire in her eyes. She took her first step, unconsciously with her left foot, "We keep going—"

—but immediately doubled over from the pain exploding from her left foot.

Dan instantly took a step forward to help, but he stopped, just as immediately. Instead of acting all sappy like comforting her with the sort of words like 'Are you alright?' or 'It's going to be fine, everything will be alright' or 'Don't worry, don't worry, I gotcha' and all those other sappy things where he was sure would end up with him getting bashed by an irritated Natalie anyway, he entertained himself with rising second thoughts. She clearly didn't want anyone else's pity, much less him. If he asked her if she was okay, or extended a hand to help her up, and all those other sorts of sappy things, it would only surely feed the fire. Most likely, she'd only smack away any hand that wanted to help her—because it would only make her feel weak, incapable, because of her injured foot, wounded both metaphorically and literally, no matter how she wished that her wound didn't even exist in the first place.

So Dan decided to do her a favour, and not help her up at all. It was a compliment, actually, and with the mocking, cynical laugh that escaped his lips, he unconsciously told her without words that he believed she could get herself up without anyone else's help even with this disability of hers.

"That's what you get for acting all stubborn," he scolded after his laugh, looking pointedly at her left foot. "Now, you want to climb that boulder? I thought you said you wanted to keep going."

Natalie took one look at the boulder that Dan was pointing at, and visibly flinched at the idea of her having to climb it with the throbbing pain that still persisted to live in her left foot. Although her desire of getting out of this forest was getting more and more uncontrollable now that she knew she would have to stay in here for one more tedious night in a bed of sticks and leaves, she had to take a drastic measure—which was to be practical. She didn't want to admit it, but, indeed, she would only just slow down the process of getting out of this nowhere if she insisted on keeping on; courtesy of this blasted left foot of hers.

Now that seemed like a cruel joke.

She contemplated her options for a few more moments. The sound of the rushing river from down below and the life of the nocturnal animals reigned in the silence while Dan waited for her answer, with a grin onto his face, knowing all too well that Natalie was about to give it up. And that's exactly what she did next.

"Fine," she snapped, but not unkindly, as she released a dejected sigh. "Let's…let's get some rest."

And that's Part One. Phew. Did anyone even reach the end part?

I'm sending a shout-out to scrittore18! Her Natan series, Sunshine and Pretendings and Burnings and Masquerades, were what inspired this fic. (I'm sorry for the Wednesday thing, but at least I still got it up, right?) I hope you're reading this! ^.^ For everyone else, thank you thank you THANK YOU for reading! (And…for *probably* leaving a review?)

~~When an idea has been pestering you for DAYS but you don't know where to jam it in your already hectic schedule~~ *stares openmouthed at bloody To Do List* So part two might wait for, at least, a week. But I promise that it WILL be written.

#TheStruggleIsReal

Until Part Two,
~Rival Argentica

(PS: I'm desperate for voters on my poll. XD To those who still haven't, please please please visit my profile!)