Beep… Beep… Beep… Whitestorm's eyes blinked open and he flinched at the hard fluorescent lights. He'd had this crazy dream… he must've been sick or something. Something about cats and aunts and mothers and badgers and reincarnation…
"Where in Starclan am I?" He gasped, turning his head away from the blinding whiteness.
"A hospital." He heard Lily's voice and relief spread through him.
"What's a hospital?" He asked, his eyes adjusting to see Lily squatted nervously in a plain plastic white chair, staring at him with owlish eyes. Her light brown hair was messy and unbrushed, her eyes tired and hollow, and yet Whitestorm had never been so glad to see her in the short time he had known her. Lily struggled to smile, and Whitestorm knew it was all for his sake.
"It's a place to heal people's injuries and sickness." Lily said, and her sentence was interrupted by a yawn.
"Like a medicine den?" Whitestorm asked. Lily looked puzzled but nodded.
"Sure, a medicine den." She said faintly.
"You look tired. You should get some rest. It can't be all that fun to watch someone sleep." Whitestorm cracked a crooked smile. Lily sighed and let out a shuddered laugh, burying her face in her hands so her hair was knotted in her fingers.
"I've been so worried about you, Whitestorm. I should have done something. I just watched him stab you, like a complete idiot." She laughed bitterly. Her amber eyes were flat and exhausted, and he felt a sudden urge to hug her. Too bad he couldn't even move, really.
"It's not your fault." He said gently. "Besides, if you had tried to intervene he just would've stabbed you too, and that would have gotten us nowhere." He said reasonably, and then hissed in pain as his side wound flared up.
"Are you okay?" Lily gasped as he cringed, his hands clamped around the wound.
"I-I'm fine." His voice broke as he tried to keep it steady, red dots flashing in front of his eyes.
"I'll go get a nurse." Lily said, panicked, and she got up quickly, already racing to the door.
"No, really, I'm fine." He gasped, as the pain ebbed away. His eyes flickered down to his injured hand, that he realized with surprised was bound with a thick white wrap. "Cobwebs?" He asked, puzzled, lifting his hand and studying it.
"No, bandages." She corrected him, her forehead crinkling, and she sat back down indecisively. He nodded slowly, and plucked at the cottony material with his good hand. "Well, Robby's plan was to get rid of you. It worked, didn't it?" Lily mused sullenly. Whitestorm shrugged, frowning at the wall.
"I'll always be here to protect you, I promise." Whitestorm said, his eyes flickering over to Lily.
"I don't want you to risk your life for me, though, Whitestorm." Lily cautiously sat down beside Whitestorm, gazing out the dusty window on the far side of the wall. Whitestorm propped himself up on the thin hospital-issued pillow, bracing himself for the pain that would come from the knife wound. When it had faded away, he tentatively reached an arm over Lily's tense shoulders as she grimaced out the window.
"Really, you should get some sleep. You look horrible." Whitestorm said in concern. Lily rolled her eyes.
"Thanks, Whitestorm." She said sarcastically. When Whitestorm opened his mouth to protest Lily curled up beside him with her face buried against his shoulder. Whitestorm watched as she closed her eyes, her arm curled around and tucking under her chin. She fell asleep immediately, a tiny sigh coming from her stilling form. Whitestorm smiled affectionately, pulling the hospital bed blanket around her shoulders and leaning back, feeling the heat emanating from Lily's sleeping form. A nurse burst into the room, her tasteless mint-green scrubs disheveled. She cast a disbelieving look at Lily, who was curled up sound asleep at Whitestorm's side. Whitestorm gave her a brilliant smile, raising his unbound finger to his lips.
"Ssh." He whispered. The nurse gave a strained smile as she glanced at his snow-white hair and his golden eyes, and then turned around and began fiddling with a roll of bandages inside a metal cabinet.
"How's your wound doing?" The nurse rumbled quietly. Whitestorm nodded.
"Fine" He whispered, his good hand fluttering to his wound at the thought. The nurse nodded, picking up a syringe from the cabinet and checking the label. Then the nurse turned around, gesturing for Whitestorm's arm. He obliged, and the nurse stuck the needle into his pale skin. Whitestorm tensed up as it stung, but when the syringe was pulled out the pain was gone. The nurse left the room then, carrying the empty syringe with her. Whitestorm closed his eyes, listening to Lily's steady breathing. A peaceful expression settled over his pallid features, and he drifted off into thought.
He was thinking about nothing in particular- just wondering about what his old life must've been like. Lily thought he was some kind of savage; he slept on moss and ate berries and practiced fighting. Whitestorm couldn't blame her, really. Compared to her luxurious and ridiculously advanced world, he must seem pretty simpleminded.
Even though he might not enjoy eating vegetables for food or might not know what a fork was, he knew that he would do anything to protect Lily, and he was willing to take down that red-haired kid to do it. He might get his memories back sometime, but for now he focus on doing everything he could to fix Lily's life, one piece at a time, just as she was fixing his.