Happy Birthday darling Silverhuntresses! I do recall that my birthday present was the torturous, "I dreamed I saved you" so I feel that this in return is appropriate.

Enjoy your day and all the tears this story hopefully brings you!

Octavian couldn't wake up. Between the heavy weight on his chest and the sickening darkness he just couldn't move. He thought he heard screams then realized that he couldn't hear anything at all. His stomach twisted.

"Where am I?" He tried to ask. No words came out. His throat was dry, his lips cut. This had to be a dream.

One of the better dreams. The others were so strange. This one made him oddly content. Where was he? Was a torturer waiting in the wings to dissect him?

He tried to listen.

Nothing came.

He looked around then realized that his eyes were closed. He sniffled.

The night was heavy. His head weighed a ton. His mouth tasted like blood. His eyes would not open. He was sure he was dying. The thought made him giddy. There was no sound. He felt something else though. A cool cloth.

His lips parted in confusion. Maybe in a smile. He felt the light heat of breath, the indication that someone was speaking. He heard no sound. His throat filled with cool liquid. He nearly choked. He forced himself to swallow. Another hiss of breath, more words he could not understand. He struggled to open his eyes. Somebody swabbed them with a cool cloth. Blood was washed off of his eyelids. Once the sticky brown was cleaned off he could open his eyes and see the somebody. He wasn't surprised that it was Rachel. His mind was fuzzy and the smile he sent upon seeing his beloved for some reason only sent Rachel into a barrage of tears. That caused him to shiver and as he did he finally understood the extent of his hurt. Each bone in his body felt out of place or cracked or crushed. His eyes and mouth were the only things that worked fine, now that the blood was washed from each. He asked what happened, but only felt the words, not hearing them. He saw her answer back, words he could not make out. He merely, tiredly watched her lips move. He had the sudden urge to kiss those lips but his body said now was not the time for romance. That discouraged him, and he frowned deeper. One singular tear fell to his cheek, but not from his blue eyes. He blinked up at her. She swabbed his face again, wiping up her tears and his blood. He made another soundless statement. She heard him. He did not. A look of surprise crossed her face. He remembered having said I love you. She kissed his cracked lips. Then said something, he expected to be able to make out the words, I love you too. He was surprised to see the words I'm sorry. He wondered why he couldn't hear her pretty voice, wondered harder why she was apologetic. He shivered again. She ran her hands over his face, then his arms that would not lift, and his chest which weakly heaved. She held up a solitary finger. One moment. He asked why as she left. She didn't look back, and as soon as she was out of his sight that was it. His own tears started. When she came back she rushed to him. She made blowing motions, most likely accompanied by the sound of gentle shhs, but he could not tell. She stroked his cheek and erased his tears. Her own flowed as if she just didn't notice. But he did notice. Why are you crying? He knew the words made it out of his mouth but he still knew not if Rachel could hear them as he could not. He was confused when he noticed that for the briefest seconds Rachel was laughing. Scared but hopeful he laughed too. His chest ached when he did and Rachel's hands pressed against it, trying to calm him. He calmed but she didn't. She was shaking worse than he was. She melted against him. He was in miserable pain. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that she was in pain and he didn't know why.

His broken arms stubbornly wrapped around her. He somehow seemed stronger than she was. He was deaf not only to the sounds of the earth but also to his pain, mostly to his mortality.

Rachel, knowing him outrageously hurting, could not help enjoying his shaky embrace. Selfishly she did not move from the spot where she could best hear his heartbeat until the two aching arms dropped from exhaustion. Then she tended to him some more. She had realized that her darling was deaf so her lips remained pressed closed. Days passed with his bones mending at a rate that was painful for both of them. Octavian recognized the point in their new suffering when Rachel's mascara became waterproof. For some odd reason that melted his heart. His voice was trembly but she always listened for it. Between whispered I love yous his only other request was that she tell him where they were. When he was conscious enough to realize he noticed that she came and went as she pleased, but he was tethered to the wall. She never answered. He was getting stronger, she kept him alive. She fed him little bits of hot food. When he smiled at her she sobbed. Then he'd cry too, and she'd blow him shhs. His head would ache as his body healed. One day he could stand, though the chains at his ankle forced him to the wall. He held out his weak arms towards Rachel. He wanted an embrace. She handed him a slip of paper. Mouthing I'm sorry baby she left the dark room. He never saw her again.

He gripped the paper that, in her artistic handwriting, declared him a prisoner of war.

The next guard was less kind. But for Rachel he fought back.

It was another fight he lost.