This is my first The Host story ever. I only started writing again recently so I hope this is good (the last time I wrote something other than HTCOL was mid 2011 and we can all admit that was terrible).
Ian never believed he could live forever. He was only human.
Though he did not at all expect to die in a shabby van in the middle of the Arizonan desert after driving around for hours. It was his abdomen that was bleeding profusely. He could have told you how the wound came to be, but right now his memory was getting a little fuzzy. Or were those black dots swimming in his vision? He was getting confused and couldn't tell.
Ian blinked.
They were driving in circles because someone was following them, Ian knew that, and they did not want to give away the location of the caves. He was cradled in someone's lap. He felt someone touch the wound and he felt like screaming in pain, but nothing less than a whimper left his dry lips.
"Sorry," said Wanda softly. Her eyebrows drew together in worry as she spoke. "Aaron told me to apply pressure to help stop the bleeding."
"S'alright." Was all the human could manage.
They rode in silence for the next few minutes. In complete honesty, Ian felt the need to say something encouraging and loving towards Wanda in fear that it may be their last conversation together, but he couldn't find the words to say. He felt stupid and small, like a tiny seventh grader standing next to their crush and trying to talk about something interesting but choking and failing miserably.
He frowned.
"What's wrong?" Wanda asked. She removed one hand from Ian's stomach and ran a hand through his hair, staining it with his own war paint, his own blood. She did it repeatedly and that soothed him. Her light blue eyes stared into his and asked silent questions, and even though her voice remained calm she was shaking slightly.
He wanted to seem strong even though he was slowly breaking apart, and no matter how much glue he and Wanda had they couldn't fix him. Ian smiled up at her and shook his head, trying not to worry her. Wanda didn't seem too convinced, but she still gave him a kiss on the forehead and didn't question him further on how he felt.
They stayed like that for a while, her just holding him instead of the other way around. A voice Ian couldn't put a face to yelled at him from the front of the truck to hold on and that they'd almost lost whoever was following them, but it sounded more as if someone was speaking underwater.
Ian's forehead felt hot and his eyes heavy. A nap felt really, really nice right now. And then he'd wake up on his mattress in the caves with Wanda snuggled up to his side. Then after that he'd wait for her to wake up and they'd eat a nice breakfast and work and then play soccer together. He'd win and she would laugh and they would hug and he'd lay delicate kisses on her skin and everything would be perfect again.
The idea was so tempting that Ian almost shut his eyes right then. But Ian knew what would happen if he did so he struggled to keep them open for as long as he could. He couldn't die, not now. He couldn't leave everyone like that. He couldn't leave Wanda.
Wanda, whom he'd treated like scum underneath his boot on Day 1.
Wanda, who had risked her life for his brother.
Wanda, who'd saved them all from being hurt.
Wanda, who he looked at like she was his world and the next.
"Do you ever think about the future?" Wanda randomly pondered, looking down at him again, some hair flopping over an eye. God, she was so beautiful. He wanted to touch and hold her, do anything, but his hands felt numb and wouldn't let him.
Ian thought that was strange.
Wanda took his silence as his throat being too dry and reached into a bag beside them and pulled out a bottle of water. She unscrewed the lid and slowly poured the liquid into Ian's mouth. Ian gladly accepted it, trying to down as much as Wanda was pouring.
"Don't drink so fast," Wanda said worriedly,"It'll hurt your stomach."
As much as Ian would have loved to follow Wanda's advice, he couldn't help himself as he continued drinking at the same pace. After he'd finished the water, his mouth still seemed dry. He felt something slosh in his stomach and something coming back up his throat. A few seconds after, Ian leaned the furthest he could from Wanda and heaved up everything he'd eaten within the past twelve hours, along with quite a bit of blood.
"Ian!" Wanda gasped quietly. Quickly, she tore off a tiny piece of her shirt and dotted it along Ian's parted mouth, wiping off any residue.
Ian felt weak and helpless. For the first time in a few months he felt his eyes own eyes start to water. He tried to blink them away, but few betrayed him and trinkled down his cheeks slowly. Wanda gently brushed them away with the hand not smeared with his blood and put light kisses on his cheeks and nose.
With each kiss the pain in his abdomen and heart grew worse. Ian grit his teeth and inhaled sharply.
"I don't like this any more than you. But you're not going to die. I won't allow it." Wanda told him, "You wouldn't let me go so I won't let you go." Tears showed in her eyes along with her forehead wrinkles. She shook her head as if saying no to all of it would solve everything; that it would just be that easy.
Ian quivered as he tried to respond, and when he opened his mouth to speak air came in. And when he tried again, air came out. This happened repeatedly.
"Ian?" Wanda shook him gently, then rougher when he didn't respond. "Ian."
"Someone help!"
It was a bad time, but Ian wondered if he looked like a fish out of water. Ian remembered back to when he was younger. Kyle had brought him back a fish from the state fair and let Ian name it and everything. A few days later the fish died, but it was okay because Ian didn't fully understand death and Kyle told him a joke to cover whatever little pain Ian had up. Ian couldn't remember the joke but he remembered that he couldn't stop giggling. He laughed at the memory but it sounded more like a sob. His head felt lighter afterwards so he did it again.
"Goodbye, my Wanderer." Ian finally said, his voice a little raspy, "I love you. I love you so, so much." Ian tried to smile up at her, to make his goodbye gentler, but pain overcame him and he winced.
"Don't say things like that, Ian. And don't—don't die on me." Wanda choked out. She placed a warm hand on his face. His breath suddenly began to slow.
"Please," Wanda whispered, voice breaking. "Stay with me." A tear dropped onto Ian's face. She pressed her face into his hair.
It didn't rain in Arizona often, but when it did the rain was hard. So everyone in the caves slept in the game room because their own rooms got too many leaks. Ian and Wanda slept in different sleeping bags, but still fairly close. Late into the night, Ian was awoken by constant shuffling next to him. When he opened his eyes, he saw Wanda move slightly and heard her sigh in frustration.
He smiled a little as he whispered like a five-year-old sharing a secret, "Trouble sleeping?"
"I don't think I'll ever get used to sleeping in this room," Wanda admitted and smiled back. Ian thought for a moment.
"Come into my sleeping bag."
Wanda was silent for a while and Ian feared that he'd made her uncomfortable even though he slept in the same bed as her every night.
"If you don't want to that's absolutely fine, sorry." Ian apologised, his ears turning a light shade of pink.
"No, no, I just don't want to be a burden. But okay." Wanda answered. She wiggled herself out of her bag and crawled over to Ian, who had also gotten out of his. Ian allowed her to go in first so she could have most of the sleeping bag while half of his body lay uncomfortably in the dirt. He was okay with it because at least he was closer to her. Ian hid his smile by burrying his face in Wanda's hair.
Ian rubbed his hand up and down her side until she fell into a state devoid of the world around her.
And even though his eyes were closing, all he saw were hers.
And they were so beautiful.
