You Guardian Angel

The Awakening

Iggy's entire body was sore, and his shoulder? That just hurt, plain and simple. There was no getting around that fact.

He had a fair idea of what had happened, he'd been hit with a tranquilizer, which had probably fallen out at some point during his descend to the ground, where he landed on said shoulder. He remembered that part clearly. That was important.

Now, more important question. Where the hell was he? Leaves, check. Forest? Perhaps.

His fingers trailed across the fabric that someone had turned into a makeshift pillow. No, not fabric, a shirt. A slightly worn one. He took in a deep breath through his nose and knew, Fang. It was his.

And there was a long trench coat thrown over him as well. This also carried Fang's scent. No question about it, Fang was somewhere in his midst.

Where? He held his breath for a second, tuning in to the sounds around him, and it took a moment, but he heard it, the crackling of a fire, and slow, deep, sleepy breaths just beyond the fire. Ah, fire. Wonderful, wonderful fire.

Had he not been in pain, Iggy would have liked to perhaps stick a hand in it. For now, he was more concerned with Fang.

He cleared his throat loudly, trying to draw a bit of attention to himself, but Fang either didn't hear him, thought he was still asleep or was just plain ignoring him. Iggy assumed it was the first.

"Fang!" he hissed, "Fang!"

"Right here, Ig, I'm right here." Fang's voice was, surprisingly a lot closer than he'd thought. Two, three feet away at the most?

Iggy could hear the sound of Fang coming to his feet, and a few, cat like steps. Graceful, was a good word to describe them. He was always conscious of his body, and the way he moved it. It was always so easy to pick out Fang's steps among the group, his steps were a little more weighted, being taller, more muscular and therefore bigger than the rest of the group, with longer pauses between each step, for longer legs. When he was in a hurry, sometimes you could hear him drumming his fingers against his pant legs, as well. But for now each step was slow, steady, and graceful. And then, Iggy heard Fang plop onto his knees, resting at his side.

"You're okay?" A note of concern hit Iggy's ears. Which was quite unusual for Fang's usual, quite monotone.

"Eh, it's a little wear and tear," Iggy said, trying to brush him off. Of course, he didn't know that Fang had already examined the wound, and knew that it, in fact, was not a little, 'wear and tear'.

"Ig, don't even try to pass that lie, that's some of the biggest bullshit I've ever heard." Fang was back again.

"Ah, I'll be okay. I'm just a little sore."

"And your shoulder?"

"Feels like it was an Eraser's punching bag."

"That's what I thought," he caught a bit of a laugh in Fang's voice, and a bit of sadness as well. And then, Fang's finger tips just grazed Iggy's own. As he did so, a fluttering warmth pulsated throughout his body, starting in his solar plexus and working all the way to the soles of his feet, and the top of his head. Just like every time Fang touched him.

Just sitting here, close to him, was giving him butterflies in his stomach, and he could feel his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Why did it have to be Fang? Why not Nudge? Max? Anyone? Why did it have to be the one person who made his heart race?

"Listen, I'll get breakfast, you just take it easy." It sounded like Fang had more to say, but nothing come out.

Iggy gave a meek, "Sure." Then started laughing, "Fang, making breakfast? Geez, I wish I could see this!"


I will never let you fall

I'll stand up with you forever

I'll be there for you through it all

Even if saving you sends me to heaven