Altair stood at the front desk in the ER. "Can I visit someone here?"

The secretary nodded and looked up from her computer. "Sure, what's the patient's name, I'll see if they're open."

"Malik." He said, his nerves jumping on end now. "Malik Al-Sayf."

The woman looked back down at the screen and tapped away on her keyboard a moment before glancing back up at him. "I'm sorry, he already has a visitor at the moment. You'll have to wait for now."

"What? Who?" Altair questioned.


The doctor told him not to move around too much, that he needed to rest. But alongside a fever and the pain he felt, he just couldn't sleep. The nurse presistantly tried to get him to take his medication, but he couldn't do it. Maybe it had something to do with his mother always on her own meds, how she wasn't that same lively woman she had been when he was younger. When his father was still around.

So when he heard the door open, it didn't mean much more to him than his sore body complaining and the dizziness from his current anemia. But it surprised him that this time around the person walking into his room wasn't a nurse. But rather a police officer.

Somehow, in the back of his mind, the officer was familiar. He knew him from somewhere.

"I see this incident was none too kind on you," the cop said, stepping towards the bed.

"What do you want," Malik questioned, staring down at the blanket on his lap.

"Just wanted to ask some questions about the incident is all," he answered, "you mind?"

"What's there to tell?" The Senior murmured, his vocal cords hadn't yet recovered from his screaming, leaving him with a thick rasp. "Are the police really so feeble where they can't figure it out?"

He heard the cop take a breath, "Look, I just want to make sure the facts are straight. This is your brother's death we're trying to figure out; the least you could do is get over yourself for just a few minutes to tell me what happened."

"Yes, you're right," Malik agreed, "it is my brother's death. And that's just it, you don't understand it at all."

"I didn't come here for an argument," the officer stated, "so please, could you just cooperate for a few minutes? That's all I ask."

It took a bit too much effort than it should have to not punch the man in the face. Malik's hand curled into a fist before he forced his emotions down again. "Fine. What is it?"

"Can you tell me what happened at the accident?" He asked.

"Altair had been thrown out of the warehouse when he had charged at Robert," Malik said, but he knew it wasn't even the hard part of the story yet, "and he turned to us and said that he'd kill us both."

"He really said this?" The cop questioned.

Malik nodded. "He did. Then a few of his friends came in to side with him. I guess I panicked and went at them, but one I was running towards stepped out of the way and..."

"What?"

"I fell..." Malik shut his eyes now, the entire scene playing through his head. "I fell on some knocked over rakes. I would have been dead if I hadn't moved my arm behind my back to take the blow. The spikes on a rake when right through. And my brother was scared, and so backed away from everyone. He didn't see the where he was going, and before I could warn him, the barrel of scythes fell on him... one of the blades..." He couldn't even manage to finish his sentence. His focus was on not crying.

"I see." The police said, knowing what he was getting at. "And then what?

"I- I got back up and tore the rake out," Malik continued, "and I ran to him and tried to bring him back... I kept telling him to wake up, but he wouldn't. My brother's eyes were still wide with shock, and I closed them. I just... I wanted to die then, so I grabbed the scythe that took his life and would have done away with my own, but... but Robert came rushing over to pull it away." For a moment, his body shook with a sob before his forced himself to continue. "We fought over it for minute until the blade of the scythe was unintentionally driven into my already injuried arm. And by then, I was certain the only thing keeping it attached was my sleeve and bone. That's when we heard the sirens, and Robert ran out of the warehouse. I didn't move for a long few moments until I saw Altair outside. So I followed him, knowing I couldn't carry my brother, and you know the rest..."

"I'm sorry to hear this," the cop sighed, "Robert de Sable came to the police station the night of the incident, he told us the exact same story."

"And what's going to happen?" Malik asked, though he really didn't care anymore. He didn't want to care about anything.

"I can't place punishment on anyone for what's happened," the officer explained, "There isn't enough evidence to prove anything outside of school that Altair did wrong. And according to both you and Robert's stories it had all been one big accident. If anything, Robert, though harming you in the process, might have saved your life."

"I know..." Malik responded.

"Take care then, son," he said, patting Malik's shoulder. "Things will get better, I'm sure."

Alone again, Malik stared down at his blanket again for a few minutes before he was practically choking on his sobs, his tears stained his lap. And soon, he was laying on his side with his hand holding the pillow to his face. It was all he could do to muffle his mourning moans.


Altair was sitting in the ER waiting to be able to see Malik. His eyes trailed up to see Officer Teodor walking out of the hospital. Had he just seen Malik? He wasn't sure. But still he walked up and asked again if he could see him.

And this time, he was allowed to go on ahead. But after five minutes of aimlessly wandering the hallway of the hospital, he was forced to ask for directions to room 259. The nurse pointed him down the hall and up the stairs. Sure enough, the room was off to the right.

Nervousness scraped inside him as he stood outside the door. And then, with a deep breath, he walked in.

Malik was curled in on himself with the pillow pulled into his face. And right away, Altair's eyes fell on the stump left of his amputated arm. Now that aside, Malik still looked like a total mess. It was almost like the Senior he knew had aged a decade with his paler than usual skin, and the depressed air around him. Although, he did try and find some amusement in the fact that now his friend had some stubble across his jaw now from a few days without shaving. It didn't help much though.

"Hey Malik," Altair greeted, trying his best to be casual with his approach. Don't mention his arm. Just don't mention his arm and you'll be alright.

The other didn't even stir.

"Malik?"

Nothing.

Altair dared to venture the few steps to the bed. "Malik, come on, don't play around." Is he asleep or something?

"Get out..."

The voice was so low and muffled that Altair had almost missed it. "What?"

Malik pulled his face from the pillow and glared up at him through the corner of his reddened eye. "Get out..."

"Come on, I just wanted to see how you were doing," Altair said, trying to make a reason for his presense.

"You've seen me, so get the fuck out." Malik growled, his voice sounded so raspy and cracked, it was difficult to reconize as his.

"But Malik, I just-."

"Get the fuck out!" Malik yelled (and almost lost his voice in the process of doing so), sitting up fast and swiping his one arm out in an attempt to smack him. Altair took a few steps back to evade the hit, and retreated from the room. No, he could come back another time. Maybe when Malik would be a little more open to visitors.

"I'm not risking my well-being on a hospital visit." Altair grumbled before walking back down to the ER and soon out of the hospital.

Told you it was one big accident. I wish that bit turned out better though, but I was sitting here for an hour trying to figure out something that could take out Malik's arm and Kadar.
Is it strange that I couldn't type a lot of the emotional things in this chapter without really freaking emotional music (hero by superchick for the vast majority)?

Also, thanks for the reviews guys, I see them and I makes me want to get my ass back into gear and type up a new chapter for you guys. Same thing with the favs and follows.