TO KASRA:
Hey, thanks for reminding me! ^-^ The whole location difference was something I was going to address, but I forgot. I was going to exploit the fact that it was never SPECIFICALLY said that Ikou was still IN Japan, but then I thought, "at least I don't think there was any solid evidence of that....." lol Cause I know Aya was definitely in America, in less in England there are AMERICAN FLAGS hanging everywhere randomly. XD
So... I planned to put in later how Ikou and Asuka had moved to America and then later found Aya there. Which just means the whole thing of Aya's ALMOST death would have to be a longish time afterwards Ikou's epilogue thingy........ does that make sense? Well, anyway, any info or anything you could give me to help fit everything together and be accurate at the same time, I'd sure appreciate it! And thanks for the review!!!!!
PS, go ahead and send me that invitation to the Gluhen story thingy, I wouldn't mind participating, and thanks again. ^-^
The Lies that Bind Us
Chapter 2
Aya moaned, in his dream it seemed…but as he opened his eyes he felt as if he were emerging from something that had held him down for a long time, like sand, or water, and he knew he was not dreaming. His body seemed to come to life slowly, and he could feel everything individually, like there were many separate parts to him that made up one. A hot white pain gnawed at his stomach…when the pain grew instead of lessening, he began to panic. He let out a thick cry, instantly aware of his swollen throat and his mouth, which felt hot and dry… an image of a glass of fresh ice water flickered somewhere in the fevered, hazy, depths of his mind.
His eyes opened slowly, heavy and pained. He was on something soft—a couch. His fingers clenching it as he struggled to remember where he was. Sat up, dizzy, spinning, soft blankets, sheets, falling to his lap, pillows shifting under his back. He let in a sharp intake of breath as his stomach clenched in a stab of pain. He looked down and saw that his abdomen had been wrapped in tight bandages, and a bright red spot had begun to spread, showing through the fleecy gauze only just. He rubbed his forehead—his skin was hot.
He slid to the edge of the couch, biting back a sob as the deep dark pain continued to throb in his stomach. As he blinked tiredly for a second, he sensed movement from the corner of his eye, and gasped, whipping around quickly—too quickly. A hoarse cry wrenched free from the depths of his chest and he flopped back onto the pillows and blankets, everything below his head a blazing well of pain. His mouth was open but nothing came out; muscles tense, trembling; sweat sliding down his forehead; time wouldn't move but was stranded in this desert of scorching sun, burning his insides to death though his skin was untouched. And finally the pain passed enough for him to have coherent thoughts… but by then he was too exhausted. Hot tears were streaming from his eyes, leaving sore trails on his cheeks, his body went limp; he slept again.
Ikou woke just in time to see their charge as he drifted back off to sleep, though it could not have been a comfortable one, judging by the extra folds of his skin between his furrowed eyebrows.
He stretched his long arms and yawned, scratching his short sandy hair and feeling suddenly the soreness in his bum from how long he must have been sleeping on the uncomfortable wooden chair he had kept watch on. On the little table to his side there sat the bowl of now luke-warm water, undisturbed, a wet washcloth floating limp in its depths. He stretched once more and took the water into the kitchen to replace it with a colder counterpart, taking it back and wringing out the washcloth to set on the stranger's forehead. His fever, though still present, had gone down. That was good.
Earlier that morning one of the doctors Asuka was close with had kindly put aside his time to give them a house visit. From him they had learned that the man would be out of danger once they stopped the blood flow (which they had) but to bring him to the hospital as soon as he was awake enough to give the information they would need to treat him. So far it seemed that everything would go smoothly.
Ikou refreshed the cloth and this time wiped gently at the man's face, seeing where sweat and tears had left a sticky trail. And then, though a pillow had mostly covered it, an out-of-place color caught his eye. Ikou yanked the pillow aside, his heart fluttering. The bandages were nearly soaked through with blood. He tensed, many different scenarios rushing to mind. Wake his wife for guidance, though she could use the extra rest?; drive the man to the hospital himself, leave a note? Call the doctor and see if there was anything he could do himself?
Shaking his head slightly, he stood and hurried into the bedroom he shared with Asuka. His heart warming slightly at the shadowed sight of her lovely form cradled in the bed's pillows and blankets as if it consciously held her. He knelt next to the bed, leaning forward, their faces close, her breath warming on his face. His nose wrinkled slightly, and he smiled despite himself. Morning breath. Even the greatest beauties could not escape it.
He stroked her raven hair, leaned forward to kiss her forehead, her flawless skin. "Honey…" She stirred only slightly, her pink lips parting as if about to protest. He shook her. "Asuka."
Her heavily-lashed eyes opened sleepily, revealing the glittering jewels beneath, tender and kind. "Ikou?" She said, her voice automatically adopting a tone of alarm. "Is something wrong?"
"Eh. Well, I… I could use some help. He's started bleeding again."
She stared at him for a second, then closed her eyes and stretched, murmuring: "Oh no…"
"Yeah…" He said grimly. "I'm not sure how serious it is, though it was showing through the bandages."
She nodded, yawning, and slipped off the bed gracefully. Her pale, sloping shoulders were riddled with goosebumps. Ikou noticed and fetched her robe from the closet, slipping it over her white undershirt and holding it for her as she struggled to get her slender arms in their corresponding sleeves. She smiled at him. "Thank you Darlin." She kissed him on the cheek.
He blushed, scratching his face embarrassedly.
He followed her out, but the moment his foot stepped over the entrance of their room he felt something was wrong. One hand flew up to grip her shoulder, and in only a few graceful movements he had maneuvered himself in front of her. "Something's wrong…" He grit out. His voice was trembling. It seemed like his mind was still back in the room, though his body had reacted mechanically, instinctively. So sure, like an animal. His heart smashed against his chest. What was going on?