Author's Note: Wow, the last five or so chapters have had comments flooding in! :) So many reviews-I love it! :) I don't want to give away the story, so I will make a general comment to everyone: Patience. I already have plans, Juudjv. You'll have to wait and see. ;)
Demirocks0522, so glad to hear that you were referred to the stories! I'm glad you like them!
Rosie0522, thanks for the referral! I'm flattered. :)
Ilovemilarion, thanks for the story idea, but I think that after this story I'm going to work on polishing up my novel and trying to get it submitted. It has been fun and oddly addicting writing on here, so I'm sure I'll be back on! Perhaps I'll write another story on here but will have to update it much slower while working on the novel.
Glad everyone likes the story because I think we're probably half way through at the most. (Have lots of things I want to work into the story yet. Good thing it turned into a trilogy or it would have been a 100 chapter sequel!)
Milori paced in the hall nervously when Spruce ran into Clarion's hospital room. He could hear her heart beating erratically through the closed door. It was slow and steady a moment later.
Spruce came out after a few long, agonizing minutes. "What happened?" he asked in concern.
He ran a hand over his hair. "I opened my big mouth and things came out wrong. I didn't mean to make her upset."
Spruce took a deep breath to remain calm and led Milori into an empty room. He turned and half growled, "Her body is incredibly fragile right now. She cannot handle being 'upset.' I had to sedate her so she didn't go into cardiac arrest." He stepped closer, his hand fisted before him to emphasize his point. "I don't know what's going on with you, but if you are serious about keeping her, you had better get your crap together. You're completely different since the war, which I understand messes with your head, but you have got to figure out how to deal with it and stop hurting her."
Milori clenched his jaw. "Don't. I'm well aware that I am messed up, and I'm doing my best. I tried time away from her and it made it worse. I only feel calm and like I'm not going completely crazy when I'm with her." He started pacing.
"So this is her problem to deal with your insensitivity?" Spruce retorted.
"No," he snapped. Then he ran his hands through his hair in agitation. "I'm just saying...I don't know," he grumbled.
Spruce watched him closely. "How much do you sleep at night?"
Milori gave him an irritated look as he paced.
"No, I'm serious."
"I don't know, maybe four hours." He kept pacing, growing more agitated, and opened the window to get some air.
"How many nightmares do you have a night?"
Milori leaned his hands on the windowsill and breathed deeply to calm himself. "I didn't say I wake up," he growled. "We're discussing Clarion."
"We're discussing you upsetting Clarion. I think it stems from the war."
"What?" he snapped and turned around.
"Milori, I think your mood swings and outbursts are post-traumatic stress disorder."
Clarion woke up to a nurse checking her heartbeat. "Hello, Your Highness," she smiled. "Are you feeling better?"
She blinked and the room stopped spinning. "A bit dizzy."
"That's just the sedative Healer Spruce gave to calm your heart. He said to fetch him when you woke up. You've been asleep for almost a couple hours. Do you want water or anything?"
"No," she said softly, her head pounding. She closed her eyes.
The nurse left and Spruce entered a minute later to see her holding her head with her eyes still closed.
"A bad side effect of sedation," he apologized. "I'm reluctant to give you more drugs when your body is still struggling to catch up. Let's try compresses." He set a cold rag on her forehead and then gently took each hand, one at a time, and lightly pressed between her thumb and forefinger.
The throbbing subsided to a dull ache. She opened her eyes.
He smiled. "It pays to be a bookworm. Read about that trick a couple years ago."
"Thank you," she said softly.
He set her hand down on the bed and then helped her prop up a bit with pillows. "It'll keep the headache from returning," he explained. Then he listened to her heart.
"Spruce?"
He looked at her as he removed his stethoscope.
"Isn't this kind of awkward?" she asked, hoping he wouldn't take offense.
He studied her. "Is it awkward for you?"
"I asked you first."
A chuckle escaped him. "You're good at being stubborn. No, I don't find it awkward. I see it as caring for a friend. Do you want a different healer?"
"Well...not really. I don't get as nervous with you. But I didn't know if..." She turned red trying to think of how to say it.
He set his hand over hers on the bed. "Clarion, I'm not embarrassed by anything we did because we didn't do anything to be embarrassed about. Lilly knows the situation and understands, and I told Milori about it and he understands. I'm not afraid to admit that you hold a very soft spot in my heart, but I understand if this is awkward for you. Above all else I value our friendship and don't want to ruin that," he said gently.
She smiled, touched by his words. "You're more eloquent than I am." Then her face fell as she tried not to cry. "I could really use a friend," she croaked and started weeping.
"I'm right here," he said soothingly and sat on the edge of the bed as he took her hand. "Clarion, you have to stay calm. I talked to Milori, and I think I figured out what's going on with his moods," he rushed out, trying to calm her down fast.
"Huh?" she sniffled and looked up at him.
He pulled out a leafkerchief that he seemed to always have on him lately and dried her tears. "I need you to stay calm because your heart isn't strong enough yet to handle stress. What I'm going to tell you should come as a relief." He glanced at the bee's cardiac reading to see her heart steadying and heard the beetle's soft chirping slowing. "That's a girl. Better?"
She nodded and brushed at her eyes.
"I just spent the last couple hours talking with Milori. He asked that I discuss his condition with you because he's worried his presence will upset you."
"Where is he?"
"In the hall. He hasn't left yet because he's afraid of you having problems."
She sighed but knew it was for the best to hear it from Spruce right now.
"Clarion, I haven't come across this, but I've read about it occurring in human soldiers. We're not that different from them, so I think this is what's happening to Milori. Sometimes when someone goes through something very traumatic, like war, his mind doesn't know what do with those emotions and images he saw. So it can manifest through things like not sleeping, mood swings, clinging or pushing away loved ones, being in constant fear of danger...so many things. I think Milori has post-traumatic stress disorder, PTSD."
"Oh Neverland," she whispered. "I've heard a little about it, but it never occurred to me that's what's happening," she said with wide eyes, feeling so guilty for being hard on him.
"He said he only sleeps four hours a night and is interrupted several times with nightmares of the war. He mentioned that one night when he returned you were caring for him and he nearly strangled you?"
His eyes were calm and understanding, but she felt ashamed as if betraying Milori when she nodded.
"From what he's telling me, he doesn't quite remember the past week too well. I believe he's having short blackouts from the stress of having an Alamur back and that Alamur being after you. He also can't tell me much about what happened during the hours that you were dead. I watched him during that time, and he didn't seem at all like himself. I chalked it up to grief, but I realize now that some of it was the PTSD altering his behavior. When you met him at the cabin with Sleet, did he seem like himself?"
She thought back to the events. "He did. I was surprised too when he looked upset about something I said but he didn't say anything in front of the others, which is like him to not be disrespectful to me."
"He can relay details of that interlude. None of the other soldiers have PTSD, but I think it's because Milori protected them from so much violence. I have a few soldiers who have nightmares, but nothing to the extreme of what Milori experiences. His dreams are incredibly vivid and he relives the tortures to the most minute detail. Dreams aren't supposed to be that explicit, and it tells me that he is having more trouble dealing with things than he lets on. This is uncharted territory for our medicine because fairies don't really have psychological issues being we normally don't have violence in our lives. He has agreed to talk with a friend of mine, Healer Rufus, who has read hundreds of books on human psychology. I think Rufus is the best one to help Milori. It is believed that talking through it and other verbal therapy helps the victim to learn how to deal with it. Milori has agreed to start tomorrow. If it doesn't work in a month or so, we can add in drugs, but that gets very tricky altering the brain's chemicals. Anyways, Milori said he wants to be here while you're in the hospital and will be in the hall should you need anything immediately. He's terrified of upsetting you, so he chose to not even try coming in. The nurses and I will be around too." He stood.
"I make it worse for him, don't I?" she asked sadly.
He gave a sad smile. "He says you're his sanctuary," he said softly, clearly touched by the words but trying not to show it. Then he headed for the door.
Her heart broke. "Spruce?"
He stopped and turned.
"Is Lilly better?"
He smiled. "She is. She's quite something. Thank you for helping me save her."
The glow in his eyes melted her heart. "Spruce?" she said softly and met his eyes. "Thank you."
A smile touched his lips and he gave a half bow.
She sat in bed and thought about what Milori had said about him training an apprentice. Obviously he truly hadn't been running away, but it still didn't excuse the fact about what he did with her and Bernard. "Milori?" she called after thinking about things for awhile.
He stepped in looking in worse shape than earlier, if possible.
She couldn't keep the smile out of her voice. "For fairies' sakes, go home and get some rest."
His face fell.
She realized that he thought she was sending him away for good. "No, go home and sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."
He gave a slow nod, his eyes drifting to the window to see it only early afternoon. Then he started walking out.
"Have you become a mouse?" she asked, trying to coax him out of his solemn state.
He turned to her, still beyond the foot of her bed, and met her eyes. "I'm scared that at any minute you won't be here," he said quietly. "I know I've done little but hurt you since the war, and I don't want to cause any more harm."
She frowned. "Are you thinking something that will upset me?"
He gave a bitter smile and seemed to think twice about his words. "I think it's best for you if I go. I think I'm provoking right now when it's not my intent. I'll stop by in a bit and check in with the nurse that you're alright." He gave a slight bow and started to leave.
"I want to say that I wish you would go cool down in winter and then come back," she admitted. She held his eyes when he turned to look at her in surprise. He looked ancient as if the past week had added centuries to his life, not days. "I hate being at odds with you. I wish you wanted to fight for me," she said softly, no longer wanting to hide her pain from him.
His brow furrowed sadly and his eyes filled with longing. "I want nothing more, Clarion," he answered. "But I'm sure that Spruce told you I have problems. The kind of burdens that I don't want to you to have to carry." He stepped closer, gripping the footboard in his hands and wearing his heart in his eyes. "I wish I could go back centuries and never have walked away from you," his final words came out as a whisper as tears gathered in his eyes. "I regret not believing you that you could love me with a broken wing."
A tear dropped from his lashes to the floor, and it broke her heart to see him hurting so deep.
"Because I can see now that even though I have caused you so much grief and am so much more crippled physically and emotionally that you still love me. I wish I had turned around that day and looked at you because I know I wouldn't have been able to leave. But I took the coward's way out instead of trusting you." His lip quivered.
A tear fell down her face.
"I love you the best that I can, which I know isn't what you deserve. I know I've hurt you so much, and I'm so sorry," he croaked so softly it sounded like a whisper. Then he turned to leave.
"Milori?" she sniffled.
He stopped but shook his head. Then he looked at her over his shoulder. "That wasn't said to guilt you," he said with slightly red eyes.
"I know." She pushed herself up to sit a little higher and held out her hand.
He reluctantly came over, and she noticed his limp was worse than it had been a week ago. He took her hand.
"You look beyond exhausted. I think that right now you go cool down and just take a break for a bit. Then come back and we will sleep before we do any more talking."
When he came back, so much of the stress in his face was gone and he was freshened up. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked as soon as he stepped into the room.
She nodded, removing the ice pack from her belly.
He frowned softly and came around to the chair beside the bed. "Does your stomach hurt?"
"A little. Spruce said my liver values aren't quite normal yet, so he's stopped pumping me full of pain meds." She started to lean over slightly to set the ice pack on the small table the nurse had pulled over near the bed, but she stopped and took a deep breath with her eyes closed when sharp pain radiated through her belly.
He took the ice pack for her and set it down. "May I help?" he asked gently.
She looked up at him. His eyes were anxious as if expecting her rejection. "There are a lot of scars," she said quietly.
He cocked an eyebrow good naturedly. "Have you not seen my back?" Then he smiled.
She blushed, realizing she sounded silly, given to whom she was speaking.
"How about I don't look?" he offered. When she hesitated he added softly, "It's not a body that makes a female beautiful." His golden eyes cut right down to her heart.
She blushed and felt like a silly young fairy when the beetle started chirping a little faster, which only embarrassed her more and made her heart beat faster.
He smiled, loving her adorable innocence. "I guess it's good I didn't tell you that the hospital gown and bed don't detract from your beauty," he admitted, his voice low and gentle.
She pursed her lips, trying hard to ignore the rapid chirping. "Don't tease me," she scolded.
His smile faded and he held her eyes. "That is something I would never tease you about, my lady," he said with all seriousness.
He hadn't called her that in what seemed like forever. And he hadn't teased her in that manner since they were very young. She didn't know how to respond and wasn't sure what to think of it when she wanted him to tease her more like he used to.
He cleared his throat. "Sorry. So, how about some healing?" he asked, keeping the mood bright, and went into the washroom to clean his hands before touching her wound.
When he came out, she looked him in the eye. "You haven't teased me like that in a long time," she told him sadly.
He slowly sat in the chair beside the bed, searching her eyes. "I was thinking while I was out that maybe we need to step back a little. I want to start over with you and fix this. I haven't felt like me since before my wing broke, but I have always loved you. I feel like I've had this wall up trying to keep you from getting too close because I'm terrified of you leaving. The hours that you were dead are blurry, but I realized something during that madness." He swallowed hard. "I realized that I don't want to waste more time with you being afraid to love you."
Tears built in her eyes. "You're so open like you used to be," she said in awe.
He actually blushed. "I'm not too manly that way sometimes," he smiled.
She shook her head. "I like it. You're strong but gentle." Her eyes searched his. "Do you know why I ran to Spruce? Because he's so much like how you used to be. I know that war and things have made you tougher, but just sometimes I need to see the underbelly of the dragon," she explained, gazing into his eyes.
"There will be times when I get surly and breathe fire at you," he warned gently.
"And I can handle it if you explain later what happened."
He scooted closer on the edge of his chair to talk.
She adored this openness in him and couldn't stand it any longer. "Pause."
"What?" he asked in confusion.
"Fix my stomach first. It's been forever since the real Milori held me, but I'm too sore to move." She relaxed back against the pillows and pulled up the blankets to her ribs so she could pull up her hospital gown for him to reach her stomach.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I got caught up in talking." He stood and waited for her to get situated. Then he slipped his hand underneath the gown. "Tell me where."
She moved his hand and slowly set it down, biting her lip through the pain.
He was as gentle as he could be, having to rub her belly a little to raise her dust. After he finished with her stomach, he convinced her to at least let him draw the curtains and heal her arms, torso and thighs. Removing the sutures from the now scarred wounds, however, was something she wouldn't let him see.
She scooted over in the bed gingerly, her body still sore and weak. Then she patted the bed.
He blinked.
"Come here right now and hold me."
He smiled and carefully sat down with the pillows propped behind them.
She was instantly in his arms with her head on his shoulder and her arm across his chest. "I don't want to start over," she whispered. "I want to fix us, not erase."
He kissed the top of her head. "We will figure out how to fix us, sweetheart." Then he stroked her hair, sensing her mood change. "What's wrong?"
"Don't leave again."
"Never," he promised, thinking she was talking about walking away.
"I fell asleep when you left and dreamed about him," she said tearfully.
Anguish filled his soul and he blinked back tears as he turned his face up to the ceiling. This was the road he had started down, and it had led him to the mess he was now, only a week or two afterward the war. Now that she was alright for the most part, it started to sink in that she had been tortured. But instead of rage, he felt intense protectiveness swell in his breast and grow. She was too innocent and gentle to know such darkness. "I'll be right here to protect you, sweetheart." He kissed the top of her hair and held her tight, refusing to let the demons torture her too. "I will save you this time," he whispered his vow.