I struggled to pick a place where Wiske would be hit with the arrow (can't tell you how much I scoured online for info on arrow injuries) and decided to simply leave it vague. I also thought keeping the arrow in her body would make things difficult/awkward for the story and decided to simply let it pass through. Hopefully this won't make things too implausible.

This posting will have two standalone stories, the second part involving Wiske caring for Suske. I hope you find them worth the read.

~xxxxx~

It hurt.

It hurt so bad.

If the blood seeping out was any indication, the arrow that had just shot through her body had really done a number on her.

She cried out, scared and desperately seeking comfort. She wanted Auntie. She wanted Suske. She wanted to be held. It hurt so much.

"It's OK, it's OK, it's OK. You're fine, you're fine, you're fine." She could faintly hear Suske babbling. He was carrying her as carefully and gently but as quickly as he could. She could hear the crunch of leaves and sticks as he made off into the forest. Obviously, they had to stay out of sight, had to move her away from any further danger. Had to get help.

As aggressive tears rolled down her cheeks, she wondered if she was going to die. Why did this have to happen to her? She wasn't a bad person – at least, she hoped she wasn't. She wasn't a soldier out for guts and glory, or a power-hungry millionaire, or a dictator. She was just a young girl who liked shopping, playing games on her phone, and spending time with her best friend.

They'd known the risks. Time travel could be very dangerous. It wasn't just about potentially changing events and therefore altering the future. They could easily catch a disease thought eradicated hundreds of years ago, and therefore be unprepared and vulnerable with no treatments or cures available. They could, like now, get hit, or shot, or stabbed, especially if they traveled to ancient, less civilized times. But it was so thrilling, so much fun (especially for children craving action and adventure, a life beyond school walls and parental rules), they'd barely dwelled on the "cons" over the years.

Wiske was paying dearly for it now.

Where did her parents go? Where was Rikki? Why did they leave her behind?

Just before she could become overwhelmed with her hopeless thoughts, all went black.

When she woke up again, her head was on Suske's lap. They were under a large, shaded tree, and he was whispering harshly into his communication device.

The injured area had been wrapped in gauze to cover the arrow's entrance and exit points. No doubt he'd found what he'd needed from the portable first aid kit they always had on hand for trips. But this was no scraped knee, and it wouldn't do much for long.

"Professor, she's badly hurt, we need to get out of here. Please send us back! What do you mean, it's not working?! Listen, if you can only send one of us back, I can stay here for as long as you need me to. I'll give up anything. Please, professor, she needs a doctor!"

Suske started running his fingers through her hair, loose and free of her ponytail, her signature bow misplaced during their escape. She didn't know if this gesture was for his benefit or her own, but she closed her eyes and tried to relish it, despite the misery of her situation.

"Wis, we're stuck for a bit, the Professor says the transporter is jammed. He's working on it as fast as he can." His cheery tone sounded incredibly forced. "But don't you worry. It's going to be fine. I promise."

Tears. More tears. She loved him so much. It hurt so much.

Would she ever be able to tell him how she felt? Would she pass on before she could ever muster up the words?

It hurt so much.

She needed help. Could somebody please help her?

Mom? Dad? Auntie?

She hated hospitals. Would she have to go to the hospital? Would they fill her up with tubes and leave her trapped in a sterilized bed far from home? Would she ever get to go home?

Sweat dripped down her chest and back. She wished she could have a drink of water. She wished she was healthy, happy, and anywhere else. She wished a lot of things.

"You know what, Wis? Your hair is like spun gold." Suske looked away. "Always wanted to tell you that."

Now he'd placed his hand on her pale forehead, as a mother might to her sick child.

"And you know what, Wis? You're strong. My strong girl."

Had she heard him correctly, or was her foggy brain hallucinating? Not "a" strong girl or "the" strong girl – "his" strong girl!

"Su… ske… can't… I can't…" she struggled to say.

"You're going to survive. You'll make it through this. I'll take you out for ice cream – my treat. We'll get the mint chocolate chip flavor – your favorite. And I'll get Auntie to let you put a TV in your room. And… and…" he stopped, it seemed he was struggling to continue. "And… dammit, I'll never let this happen to you again. I swear it."

~xxxxx~

"Thankfully, the arrow didn't hit any vital organs and we're going to keep an eye out for infections. It's going to take some time for her to fully recover, but things are looking promising." The older man gave him a reassuring smile.

"Thanks, Professor."

Suske's attention immediately returned to his best friend. Sitting down on an old, slightly crooked chair situated immediately next to Wiske's bed, he could only stare at her pale, sleeping face. She had an arm draped across her stomach, breathing quietly, now calm since they'd come home.

The screaming, her collapse on the hard, cold ground – how he wished he could get the sounds and images out of his head.

At least she'd stopped crying – the tears alone had torn his heart in two. He hated it when she was scared or in pain. He hated it when he felt powerless.

He couldn't eat. Not even Auntie's special chicons au gratin, usually a mouth-watering dish for the constantly hungry teen, could tempt him into filling his empty stomach. Couldn't sleep either, even though it was well after midnight. He couldn't relax a single muscle, not even for a moment, no matter how relieved he was that Wiske was going to pull through.

His very best friend, a girl he cherished more than anyone or anything in the world – she very well could've died, if the situation had been a little bit worse.

What would he have done? Certainly, he'd never recover from the loss.

He hardly remembered his parents, the people who brought him into the world. Just fuzzy faces and voices that came and went in his memory. He'd been alone and on his own for so long, when Wiske and Auntie found him and brought him back to their home, at first, he didn't know what to do. He felt out of place a strange land, an outsider expected to embrace a completely foreign culture. At the same time, he now had a warm bed to sleep in and consistent meals. He'd gained a healthy weight, got help when he was sick, and found himself surrounded by supportive people from a country he'd scarcely thought about before, if ever.

Soon enough, Wiske transitioned from a good kid who pulled him out of a hard-bitten existence to a crucial, indispensable part of his universe. They lived like siblings and were sometimes assumed to be siblings by those who didn't know them, but they definitely weren't. No, not at all. He hoped with all his might that Wiske didn't think of him as a brother.

The tears came. He loved her so much.

Suske slowly took her free hand in his own, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb, too hesitant to do anything else for fear he would cause additional injury. Maybe, in some way, the simple gesture would bring her comfort.

"Someday, I'll tell you. I promise."