For three days Demo stayed bed-ridden. In those three days, she and Erebus discussed many things, including what they would do next. Many of the skills Erebus had developed as a death knight were now useless, as most of them involved the use of the elusive dark magic and still, he could use no magic. So, Demo reasoned, his non-magical skills would need to be honed in the meantime. They would go to Dalaran City to find someone in the business of training warriors when Demo was strong enough to walk. They had nothing: no food or drink, no horses; Erebus' had deserted the moment he no longer was a death knight and Demo's had left when she almost died.
By midmorning on the fourth day after arriving at this tiny, abandoned house, Erebus was going stir-crazy. He had not spent so much time indoors since his childhood. He knew he had to find a reason to get out of here for a while, but was overwhelmed with guilt each time he thought about leaving the rogue alone. He was about to excuse himself to go hunting for a rabbit for their meal when Demo awoke.
"Help me up. I want to try standing." Her tone left no room for discussion. Erebus - glad to finally be able to help in some way - helped ease her broken body out of bed. Her legs were unbroken, but the rest of her body was not so lucky. Ribs, arms, hands… Erebus thought darkly, disgusted once again at himself, most of them damaged. Her skin is still in shreds too.
He looked up at Demo's face, at the bruises there that had started yellowing slightly, but the cuts still as red as ever. To his shock and awe, she was grinning like a madwoman. What is there to smile about? He mused.
"Better than I expected it to be, Erebus," Demo explained a little sheepishly, after catching him staring open-mouthed at her. "It almost doesn't hurt." She tested her legs gingerly before scanning the room for her armour. Not finding it, she looked to Erebus questioningly.
He had been avoiding this moment. Her gear had been good: expensive and rare items that were only found in the most dangerous places. It was his fault that they were now beyond repair. Silently he pointed to the shreds of leather piled in the corner of the tiny hut. Demo gasped, "No, no this can't be –" She made a lunge for the petty remains of her gear, but her damaged body couldn't hold her up. She fell to the floor heavily, a scream escaping her lips as the wood rushed up to meet her.
Immediately Erebus was there, trying to help her up. She fought against him, pounding her tiny fists into his chest and face. "Get away from me!" She yelled, anger and despair overwhelming her. He tried to ignore the beating and lift her to the bed, but Demo wouldn't stop thrashing in an attempt to get away from him. The wounds on her arms and face were opening again, the healing skin yet too tight to handle the violence of her reaction; blood stained her pale skin once more. Trying to help was only hurting her more, he realised with a pang of regret and heartache in his chest. It took a second for him to breathe again.
He stepped back and pressed his back into the wall, as far away from Demo as he could get in the tiny space. "I'm sorry –" he started. He was silenced by a glare. If looks could kill, he thought darkly.
Demo was struggling to her feet, eyes locked on Erebus. "You should have let me die. I've got nothing now, and it's your fault," she spat. She shuffled towards the door, ignoring the blossoming red stains on her clothes. Pushing it open, she looked back at the warrior. "Stay the hell away from me," she said through gritted teeth. The door slammed shut behind her.
He sank down the wall into a crouch, head in hands. The seriousness of what he had done was only just beginning to dawn on Erebus when he heard an all too familiar scream.