A/N: You guys have been amazingly nice so far. Many thanks. Just so you know, this is where the story takes a nose-dive into A.U. ville. So hopefully it won't make your eyebrows twitch or your noses wrinkle in disbelief…
Chapter Four:
Blood. There was so much of it everywhere that even the cleric had a hard time knowing where to start. Lion-o alternately hovered and paced, hovered and paced, not making the job any easier. She wished she had a task, any task, to send him on.
Panthro came jogging back from the Thunder Tank, his arms loaded with clean blankets, containers of water and their minimal amount of medicinal supplies. As a soldier, he had experience field treating wounds so she set him to work on Tygra's arms, which had sustained minor damage from the blast. Tygra's chest was left to her.
Cheetara frowned as she worked, cleaning away the excess blood so she could see where the actual damage was located. How she wished Tygra had thrown on his protective vest when the camp had been roused by Lion-o's call. But they had been caught so unawares that everybody responded in what they had been sleeping in.
"Um… Cheetara?" Wilykit shifted nervously from foot to foot. "I found this vial and thought maybe it would be useful?"
The older cat tried hard not to growl in irritation. "Thank you, dear. Put it down over there and I'll check it out later."
"'Kay." The young girl set her vial down and gave the wounded prince a long, worried look before scurrying back to join her brother. Curiosity had evidently been her motivation for the interruption, not that Cheetara could blame the girl. She didn't believe that any of the group had spoken to the siblings about what had happened to Tygra; it was natural for them to be nervous and concerned.
At least they were keeping busy and mostly out from underfoot. The kittens were ransacking the lizard bodies; there was no other polite way to put it. Food and other supplies were liberated from their dead assaulters with a practiced ease that made Cheetara wonder what kind of life the two had lived previous to Thundera's destruction. But that was a question to ponder at another time.
She continued to mop away the excess blood, discovering that Tygra's chest wasn't wounded nearly as bad as she had feared, at least not on the surface. The skin at the heart of the blast had been severely burnt, blisters already formed and oozing – a painful, serious situation, but probably not life threatening unless they got infected.
The blood leaked from a thousand minute cuts surrounding the burnt section. Cheetara winced as she gently probed the depth of the slashes. Again, though nasty to look at and certainly painful to poor Tygra, the cleric didn't feel they were in any danger of ending his life.
Then the comatose tiger wheezed and struggled for breath. His body attempted to curl into itself, until Panthro pinned his arms and Cheetara held his legs. Cough after cough wracked his body; bright crimson blood exploded from his mouth and nose with each strained exhale. Each inhale gurgled and stuttered, becoming shallower and shallower, until finally the fit stopped. Tygra's tense body slowly relaxed and Cheetara took advantage to press her ear against his chest.
"Well?" Panthro asked quietly as the cleric rocked back on her heels, her face solemn. "Should I even bother with these?" the general gestured towards Tygra's partially bandaged arms.
"Of course you should!" Lion-o exploded. "Right, Cheetara? Tygra will be fine!"
The two older cats exchanged glances before red-orange eyes met blue. "Lion-o, he has serious internal injuries. We can patch up the outside, but inside…" She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid there's little we can do."
The young king jerked as if she had slapped him again. "No," he shook his head. "No. You're a cleric. Can't you…" He gestured helplessly at Tygra's body.
"Not all clerics are healers, Lion-o. In fact, the ability to use the healing arts on others is a rare skill among us."
"Too bad he doesn't take after his mother," Panthro muttered.
Cheetara blinked in surprise, but then again Panthro had served Claudus a long time. Of course he'd know of Siberia.
"Wait, what? What does Mom have to do with this?"
"Not Queen Irene, Lion-o. Tygra's mother, Siberia, was a cleric, a powerful healer," Cheetara explained. "But according to Jaga, Tygra was tested as a young cub and failed to master the most basic meditation techniques." She gave the unconscious form a slight smile. "Apparently, he just couldn't sit still long enough."
"Took after his father," Panthro rumbled, looking away. "I saw his end too. Damn shame."
Lion-o fell to his knees. "He's… Tygra's not going to die. He can't. Jaga said I wouldn't be alone…" The whispered voice hitched up at the end as hot tears burned their way down Lion-o's face. He took his brother's paw and held it in both of his. Unstoppable tears dampened both their fur. He had been trying so hard to be a strong king, a reliable, unflappable ruler. But this, this was too much to take.
"Stupid Tygra," he muttered. "You're always so damn stubborn. Why'd you choose now to listen to me? Why'd you have to use the whip? I wish you had just shot at him with the gun. Now look at yourself."
"Look at himself?" Cheetara repeated, brows furrowing down. "That's it! Self-healing!" The two males looked at the excited cleric quizzically. "All clerics have the ability to enter a meditative trance, a state that accelerates their body's healing."
"But you just said that Tygra failed even the most basic cleric training."
"As a cub, Lion-o. But it is possible that he still possesses the innate ability. He just doesn't know how to use it."
"Girl, you better not be thinking what I think you're thinking."
"We have no other options, Panthro. It may not be one of my stronger skills, but if I can form a mind-link with him, I might be able to push him into the trance."
Wasting no more time with words, Cheetara shifted her position. Kneeling down next to Tygra's head, she placed a slender hand across the wounded cat's brow. Taking a deep breath, the cleric closed her eyes.
"What is she…?"
"Shhh."
Lion-o frowned, but remained silent. Cheetara's breathing slowed.
In his clasped paws, Tygra's hand twitched. "Tygra?" he called hopefully. But beneath Cheetara's hand, the tiger's brows had furrowed down. His face spasmed and then grimaced. The low sound of a growl rumbled in his chest, which triggered another bloody coughing fit. Cheetara jerked her hand back as Tygra twisted to the side and rasped for breath. For one terrible moment it appeared as if he had stopped breathing altogether. But then the gathered group saw his chest rise and fall weakly.
Cheetara shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's no good. His mind is fragmented and confused. He sees me as an intruder. He fought my presence. I don't know him well enough to find his true self and convince him to listen."
"Yeah… listening has never been one of his strong points…" Lion-o murmured. Then he blinked. "Cheetara, let me try! Tygra knows me; he probably won't fight me. Please! This is all my fault; let me try and reach him."
The cheetah gave her king a sad smile as she dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Lion-o, I know how much he means to you…"
"No you don't! He doesn't even know. All we ever do is fight and I never even had the chance to say I'm sorry. Please!"
"You're not a cleric, boy." Panthro rumbled. "It doesn't matter how much you want to, you don't have the skills to form a mind link."
"He's right, Lion-o."
Lion-o forced down his panic and ire with an effort. There had to be a way. Restlessly he fingered the hilt of the Sword of Omens. Suddenly an idea began to form. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment. Then he pulled his sheathed sword from its resting place. It remained small, no longer than a dagger as its master contemplated it.
"Sometimes, when I wield the sword, I swear I can feel all of you. Like we're somehow connected. The Eye of Thundera is supposed to grant 'sight beyond sight'. Isn't this just another aspect of that? Just tell me what to do. I can find Tygra or whatever you need. Please, Cheetara. I have to try."
The cleric sighed. "Lion-o, it isn't as easy as you think. His mind is a mess; you might get lost in there. And there is another danger. If Tygra passes while you're linked, he will drag you down with him."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take."
"But perhaps not one you should take. You are the only heir to the blood, the only possible wielder of the Sword of Omens. If we lose you, we lose everything."
"He's my brother."
"Show him, Cheetara." Panthro rose and clapped Lion-o firmly on the back, hard enough to make the lion wince. "Looks like this one takes after his father too. I'm going to see if I can get the Thunder Tank up and running. We need to put some distance between us and this place before nightfall." He strode away, pausing to speak to WilyKat and WilyKit before proceeding to the tank.
Lion-o turned his blue eyes back to Cheetara. She yielded to his pleading gaze. "All right, Lion-o, here's what we're going to do…" The cleric took the Sword of Omens and clasped one of Tygra's hands on it. Then she guided Lion-o's on top of it. "You're going to have to activate the sword. Try to recreate the 'connected' feeling you sometimes experience. Reach for Tygra's mind. Remember, you're going to have to find his true self, his consciousness, in order for this to work. Don't get distracted by what you might see or hear in there."
Lion-o's grip tightened over his brother's hand. "Right."
"I can't follow you. His mind rejected me once and might evict you if it senses my presence. But once you find him, call for me and I'll be there."
"Right."
The young king looked so determined that the cleric couldn't help by smile at him. "Relax. Follow your instincts. It will be alright."
Lion-o returned her smile briefly, then his gaze firmed. He stared at the sword, at the dormant Eye of Thundera. "Sword of Omens," he intoned solemnly, "give me sight beyond sight."
The blade responded with a pulse of energy, but that wasn't what he wanted. Lion-o closed his eyes, reaching for that sensation he sometimes felt when he activated the sword's power, the feeling that all the ThunderCats were joining him, bonding with him as he swung the blade. He experienced it last night, he knew that he had, when he used the sword to warn the others of the lizards' impending attack.
"Lion-o, not all of us. Focus on Tygra."
Right. His brother. Lion-o pictured the cat in his mind. The first image was of his bloody body, lips moving soundlessly as he tried to tell Lion-o something. Shuddering, he pushed the image away. He summoned another one, one of Tygra's half grins – the expression he often gave when he was teasing. His brother ruffling his mane, calling him a kitten. Tygra tossing him a sword a second before their father swung the Sword of Omens at his head during his initiation.
"That's it, Lion-o, you're almost there."
Was that Cheetara's voice? She seemed so far away.
Tygra stood next to him, confident and strong as they faced off against a mob of angry cats. Tygra yelling at him, telling him to take his role as Prince more seriously. A feeling of regret clawed at him; Lion-o felt himself falling, getting sucked down, down…
Blackness encompassed everything. A single image remained. Tygra's bloody lips, moving slowly, trying to form words. But this time, instead of hissing out in unintelligible syllables, they echoed around him, filling the surrounding darkness with his brother's voice.
"Lion-o, I'm sorry."
Cheetara watched as her king's eyes closed. The Sword of Omens, still in its diminutive form, emitted a soft blue glow. The Eye of Thundera blazed to life, the vertical slit that gave the stone its name dilating fully. For a second Cheetara felt the call, the urgent need to be by her king's side, to fight with him against whatever foe stood in the ThunderCats' way. From near the tank, both WilyKit and her brother stared towards Lion-o, their eyes glowing.
Cheetara freed herself from the compulsion. "Lion-o, not all of us. Focus on Tygra."
Within moments the pull of the call subsided. The kittens went back to their tasks and the Eye of Thundera narrowed its pupil.
The lion shivered but then his furrowed brows relaxed minutely. Both he and Tygra took a breath simultaneously. Once, then twice. Cheetara could almost feel Lion-o's consciousness slip away, moving elsewhere.
"That's it, Lion-o, you're almost there." She encouraged in a hushed voice.
Tygra took a half breath, alone this time. His face twitched; his unencumbered hand did the same. Cheetara hesitated to take it, lest she disturb the fragile bond being formed. The cleric was surprised to discover that she was holding her breath. Then a low noise emerged; a tiny, tiny sound. Glancing between the brothers, the blond cat cocked her head to one side, trying to locate and identify the sound. Then she smiled. It was a purr, a minute fragment of one, but a purr all the same, rising from Tygra's chest each time he took a shallow breath.
Amazed, the cat sat back, giving her king a fond smile. Beyond all expectations, Lion-o had done it!
TBC…