Disclaimer: These are not my characters and unfortunately will never be. They belong to whomever owns Gundam Wing. Let this transgression go unnoticed by them too.
(Q)=Quatre
(W)= Wufei
Note: Prepare to walk the path of depressing tragedy if you read this. Okay, bye-bye now!
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To Find a Fallen Star
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"Your character is what you have left when you've lost everything you can lose."
Anonymous
Chapter 1: On you I happen to befall
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
The glaring red sun dipped below the oceans surface abandoning the world in another night of darkness. But this night is different, the winds whispers so.
Another has fallen again. This one is immense as it descends toward the black sea. With a brilliant flash it is engulfed by the heaving waves and clouds of steam. A loud roaring laments its tragic plunge from the heavens.
The dark waves crash violently against the sandy beach. Nothing comes ashore as the night advances. A deep chill settles over all.
All I do is look away and head back into the desolate sands with my pale robes flapping as loudly as my heart sounds in my ears. The worlds affairs have nothing to do with me. I refuse to play their games again. Their silly, little games kill so many.
My callused hands clench around my well worn staff as I refuse to remember. Memories be gone. Leave me like the winds do, empty and alone. That is all I want...
...and all I deserve.....
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(W) A constant whistling of wind tears me from oblivion, and my throbbing head pounds in protest. I try to sit up but only one arm can move. That arm I use to roll over with. Immediately I wish I hadn't as the sun sears my eyes. I throw my arm over my eyes and note vaguely that it is bloody and bruised.
I can hear waves crashing and the winds constant whistling all around me. A beach.
As if in reply a wave smashes into my legs, and I severely bit my lip to keep from crying out. The sea water stings on the numerous wounds that cover me. Now, I am acutely aware of how bad off I am.
I drag my arm off my eyes and try to pull myself up from the waves reach but it is too much. My arm gives out and I collapse into the rising tide. I will drown if I don't move.
Another wave comes but larger and smashes me cruelly into the sands. A strangled scream escapes as darkness overwhelms me. There is no ground under me. I am floating. I can't breathe but when I open my mouth water rushes in. I'm drowning. No!
I struggle but I am pulled away from the beach. I fight, wailing my working arm till I realize it is in the grip of someone. Someone who is tugging me to shore.
My head breaks the surface and I collapse onto the sands. Coughing out the water as a hand pounds my back, I notice the person is also holding me up. I wanted to turn and look at him, but the spinning in my head caught up with me, sending me back into oblivion.
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(Q) What do you do when you shut out the past and one day the past collapses at your feet again? What a way to bring me to a sputtering halt. Memories come shattering my fragile quiet. So what if I don't take well to surprises and if I react badly to many of them. I don't even know why I was out on the beach anyways but I was there and so was he. I was actually tempted to let him get pulled back into the sea. I could of let the past lay dead, but I heard him cry out. This is the last person I ever expected to cry especially in what could of been his last battle.
I dove in after him and he smacked at me, but I wouldn't let go. Finally he calmed down from exhaustion or he realized it was me. I don't know which since he fainted on the beach.
It has been years since I last saw him, or anyone that really knew me. Five years since I've seen the silent one of them, and six years since the last battle to be correct. Who would of known I wanted to lose in that last battle? I didn't want to live life quietly out. I wanted to go out as quickly as so many of the people I had killed. Yes, I hated the bloodshed. I would try anyway I could think of and then... and then I just sort of toppled. Everything blinked out and I wanted it all to end. The battles... the hate...... the rage... Oh, how I hated everyone. Myself for falling into their games and everyone for letting themselves fall without ever trying to get out of it all. Even the pilots who tried to say the only way was to toss down the tyrants at the top. More tyrants will rise. My way was efficient. Take out the source of conflict. If there is nothing to fight about then peace will truly exist.
But I also agree with Milliardo. We should teach the world the true horror of war on a large enough scale that even time cannot erase the memory. But even he chickened out of his own ideal, when the 'heart of outer space' fought him.
I am tired of helping the world. Out here there in no one but the winds to bother me. I am just a fragment of the past still breathing and I seems another has joined me from the same place. No, he is more than a fragment. He didn't want to die. I would of welcomed the roaring waves embrace, but not him. Oh no, I figure he wants to still die a glorious death. That would so be like him to do so. Even Green Eyes was like that under his thick wall of silence.
Humph... don't want to think about him or the half-drowned fool. Well I saved him so I can't just leave him.
I wonder what he is going to do when he realizes I can't talk. Go ahead laugh or be shocked. I don't really care but those ex-soldiers were overjoyed to silence little, golden boy. Yes they wanted to follow through with some damn last order from some guy I had killed during the war. They meant to kill me but Green Eyes wanted me to live. I can't remember the attack. All I know about it is from what Green Eyes told me though I know now for sure it is not fun living through a slit throat and leaning you're mute. Now it doesn't bother me anyway because I don't have any reason to talk. They did it five years ago so I've had time to adjust and for the scar on my neck to fade to a bold white. No one notices it because of my scarves and robes. I hate trying to explain.
Back to Mr.I-can't-die-without-a-big-bang who is now sleeping in my tent as I fix a small meal for the both of us and the boy. Let's run down part of the list of his injuries: broken left arm, a several deep slashes down the length of his back, enough bruises to make his true skin color questionable, etc. Damn, how much can one want to live through at the rate he's going at?
He has grown though which surprised me considering he had the same problem I did. Everyone assumed we were going to stay petite and boyish. His face is a little more lean and his eyes don't look so childishly big. He is taller also and wider in the shoulders. Must be popular. Too bad Treize couldn't see him now or his lost Nataku. Okay, so I haven't grow completely out of my little kid look. I know I am much taller though. Last time I saw Rashid, right before my muteness I could look straight at his nose instead of the middle of his chest. Also, I can tell when I hear the village girls talk when I pass through a town for food. I don't like thinking about how I look too much because then I'll remember the scar on my face. Its from the time... no, I don't want to think about it. Damn, Green Eyes, you can stay there with your silence for all I care.
Ugh, I almost burnt the food. Rice and dried fruit. I ran out of meat a week ago and it'll be another two before we get near another town. Wait, three weeks because of him. Why did he have to show? Now we have to ration the food so it can last that long. Hum, the water also. His wounds are horrible and need cleaning.
I'll have to give him my spare robe since he's too big for Raiu. His clothes are in shreds, but they did make good bandages. I only have pain killers and my medication. Hopefully, he won't get any infection. He would die and then I will have to bury him. I learned how much I hated burying friends years ago, and I don't want to repeat it.
The sun is setting like a bloody tear tonight. How fitting. I haven't seen tears in a long time.
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(W) This time I awoke to the hard warmth of a wool blanket on the ground. I was staring above me looking for familiar stars and realized suddenly I was in a tent. I had to be. It was so dark and I could hear the wind pushing against the sides. I never sleep in a tent if I remember correctly.
I didn't dare move as I tried to figure out how I got in one. It slowly sunk in I was bandaged almost all over. My face felt as stiff as the rest of me but not as sore. My helmet must of protected my head better than my suit. My suit... why was I wearing one.. I can't remember... Something is missing I think... there is that echo of an unfinished thought ringing through my sore head.
I raised the only hand I could lift to my forehead as if to rub my memory back but to no avail. I felt a sudden stab of pain that ran down my back and realized that I must opened a wound as the spot started to throb.
I must made some noise because the tent flap was suddenly thrown aside and he came in carrying a small lantern. The shock on my face must of been unnerving because the look of worry on his face became likewise. I was speechless staring at the living dead. Trowa said he was gone and I had even seen his grave for what was left of him. How can this be?
He stood there staring at me watching me think this through and I realized I remember a name: Trowa. But as if to mock me, fate wouldn't bring forth the name of this scarred blonde. I am serious when I say scarred. Down the right side of his face is this white scar that starts at the top of his forehead and branches into three jagged slashes at his pale blue eye as they continue down into the scarf around his neck. Remarkably his eye is undamaged but there was something there that didn't feel like it was there before. I have a feeling warmth once glowed in them but now it was just ember of too well remembered pain and rage. Haunted, also.
He knelt down and carefully touched the arm I had moved. I tried not to grimace as his fingers probed the throbbing wound. When he pulled his hand back I could see my blood covering it. He looked angry as he bit his lip slightly and adjusted the bandage so the opening was closed again.
He looked quickly at me and shook his head as I flexed my arm trying to stretch an annoying cramp. As if reading my mind, he gingerly rubbed the cramped muscle and slowly the cramp began to go away. The wrong feeling in his eyes seemed to fade as he worked my arm, in its place a familiar gentleness settled.
A gust abruptly slapped the tent and his snapped his head around glaring at the tent flap.
The gentleness was gone.
He got up and hanged the lantern on the main pole. Then he walked out of the tent only to return shortly with a small bowl that was still steaming. Settling himself next to me he put a hand under my head carefully and began to feed me. Rice with fruit in it. The fruit didn't take as much effort to chew as I thought it would. He must of sat cooking it awhile because I gather we are in a desert from the smell in the air and the look of his robes. That would mean the only fruit here was dried.
I lay there eating as well as I could as he watched each bite in silence. He seemed very focused on the spoon.
Eventually the bowl was finished and he left again. He hadn't said anything. I thought he would at least say hi or is my little bit of memory so far off that this is someone else.
I think there was something in the food because I didn't feel the pain as much.
His blonde he poked through the flap and he stared at me for a few moments like he wasn't sure I was really there.
Okay, he is starting to unnerve me a little.
He comes the rest of the way in and sits at my feet and watches me stare at him.
Finally I can't stand the silence, "I remember the name Trowa.... but not yours?"
As soon as the name was out of my mouth his eyes hardened and he bite his lip painfully. Note to self: Don't mention that name again.
"Umm, I am sorry. I didn't know not to mention him. Actually, I can't remember much. I think knowing my name would be helpful, also," I ended lamely watching his expression settle on a guarded look as he nibbled his lip. I hate talking more than I feel is right but this situation is unnerving. "Can you tell me that or at least speak to me?"
If I could of moved I would of dug a hole and hide. The looks that crossed that face scared me. I cannot remember ever seeing someone go from guarded to pained to furious so fast. He now seemed like he was going to cry but tears didn't exist when so much pain and anger still tore at him.
I felt horrible and I wasn't even sure what I did. I thought he was going to leave but he lifted a shaky hand and touched the scar on his face before pulling at the red scarf bound around his neck.
When the scarf fell away I flinched. Now I know why he didn't speak. His neck had several slashes across it that all criss-crossed each other. It was a shocking white even against as pale of skin as his. Even the scars from his face slashed though these scars.
I didn't think he could look anymore pained but me flinching was all he could take. He abruptly got up and fled the tent.
I stared at the red scarf at my feet. It looked so much like a pool of blood. I shifted a leg and decided it was fit enough to kick the scarf near my working hand.
But when I kicked it, I heard a familiar sound: the rattle of a pill bottle. I felt a stab of fear tear at my chest. What else is wrong with him?
I closed my eyes and tried to slow my racing heart.
Thankfully I felt sleep tugging at me.
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(Q) Of all the things to mention, he said his name. I thought I could handle whatever he was going to say but that, no. I don't think I'll ever forgive Green Eyes for what he did before he left.
I don't know how to tell him about Green Eyes. If I can bring myself to wanting to somehow.
I can't believe I forgot Raiu will be back tomorrow with more food and the camel. It should be easier to move him with it. Bet that will be interesting trying to explain him to Raiu.
My chest is starting to hurt again. If I don't take my pills soon I won't be able to breath enough to stay conscious. What a way to go, huh? Eventually if I don't get medication my lungs will stop breathing completely. Damn, disease. I haven't taken the pills since the star fell. Now where is it? Duh, my medicine is in the pocket of my scarf in there with him.
I don't want to face him again tonight but the consequences of not taking it are worse. Damn.
I peek in to see if he is awake but he is only sleeping, fitfully at that. His hand keeps balling into a fist and relaxing only so slightly as he frowns at some unseen enemy.
My breath is coming in sharp painful gasps now. I hope I don't wake him. Slowly I push the flap aside and step toward him. As I lean down to grab the scarf, I suddenly am flat on my back with a hand around my throat.
I try to pry the fingers off but the grip tightens and my vision starts to darken. Well, this feels familiar. Damn.
Suddenly I am released. The air rushes into my pained lungs but its not enough. I need the medicine or I'm going to pass out.
With my breathing reduced to loud, quick intakes as I fight blacking out I try to find the scarf. My hands fumble over the bottle but I can't grab it. I trembling so bad. If this is what drowning feels like I guess I don't blame him for wanting to go out in a bang. Ack, the pain. I can't breathe. I try not to let the darkness get me. It feels like the first time with each attack.
I see his hand grab the bottle and open it. He poured two in his hand and tried to hand them to me but I was starting to slump over still unable to breathe. He grabbed me and forced my gapping mouth shut after putting the pills in it.
It took so much effort to swallow them but I got them down. If there one thing I am glad about those pills, is that they work fast. My chest loosened up enough to allow a small hiss of air in and eventually to ragged breathing.
The whole thing wouldn't of been so bad if he hadn't scared the shit out of me. That is the last time I will get close too someone twitching in their sleep.
Vaguely, I realized he was talking to me and shaking my shoulder with his good hand. His good hand... His wounds! He is moving around with such bad wounds. Damn how did he floor me in such a state.
I tried to motion him to lay back down but my hands were shaking too much and I had no strength to force him to lay down. Finally I just gave up and collapsed next to where I had him placed. Through blurry eyes I watched as he bent over me. His face was so pale he looked like he was the one that had been choked.
I let out a long sigh. That medicine worked really fast; I can almost breath normally. Well as normal as I can. Damn, he almost killed me.
I noticed he was still watching me and I tried to smile which is something I haven't done in so long. Only one side went up on that smile. The muscles in my scarred cheek are rarely exercised except for eating.... since it happened after I became mute...
My heart felt like I put it through a marathon and it hadn't realized it was over. The whole event has left me exhausted with the added shock that is trying to sink in. Closing my eyes I noted his worried look and his clenched hand as he fought the pain of moving. He was putting my scarf around my neck.
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(W) I thought I had almost killed him. His white neck turn purplish red quiet fast to top it off. I think that is what made me realize it was him, the white scars against the suffocating flesh. He was gasping in a short, whistling intakes making me think I had crushed his windpipe. But when he went for the scarf, I thought he was going to strangle me in return with it. Instead he kept trying to grab the bottle but he was shaking to much and his breathing was becoming more halting.
I did the only thing I could think of and that was to give him his pills. Thankfully they worked. I could see it by the look on his face as he was starting to be able to breathe again.
That scared some thoughts back into place for me. I remember doing something unforgivable and being thrown down. And down I went into the roaring sea. Unrepentant of my deed, whatever it was.
Now that feeling that I know him is stronger but I know I was told he was dead. Touching him made me realize he wasn't a figment of my imagination from trauma. I can hear his harsh breathing even now and I know his is alive but I am still not over it.
I still feel bad for turning on him. I can feel it on the inside that that blonde loner was tempted to leave me to the waves. I want to know why he didn't.
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Next Chapter 2: Familiar face with a strange name
By: Ange Colère
(Q)=Quatre
(W)= Wufei
Note: Prepare to walk the path of depressing tragedy if you read this. Okay, bye-bye now!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To Find a Fallen Star
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Your character is what you have left when you've lost everything you can lose."
Anonymous
Chapter 1: On you I happen to befall
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
The glaring red sun dipped below the oceans surface abandoning the world in another night of darkness. But this night is different, the winds whispers so.
Another has fallen again. This one is immense as it descends toward the black sea. With a brilliant flash it is engulfed by the heaving waves and clouds of steam. A loud roaring laments its tragic plunge from the heavens.
The dark waves crash violently against the sandy beach. Nothing comes ashore as the night advances. A deep chill settles over all.
All I do is look away and head back into the desolate sands with my pale robes flapping as loudly as my heart sounds in my ears. The worlds affairs have nothing to do with me. I refuse to play their games again. Their silly, little games kill so many.
My callused hands clench around my well worn staff as I refuse to remember. Memories be gone. Leave me like the winds do, empty and alone. That is all I want...
...and all I deserve.....
-----------------------------------------------------------------
(W) A constant whistling of wind tears me from oblivion, and my throbbing head pounds in protest. I try to sit up but only one arm can move. That arm I use to roll over with. Immediately I wish I hadn't as the sun sears my eyes. I throw my arm over my eyes and note vaguely that it is bloody and bruised.
I can hear waves crashing and the winds constant whistling all around me. A beach.
As if in reply a wave smashes into my legs, and I severely bit my lip to keep from crying out. The sea water stings on the numerous wounds that cover me. Now, I am acutely aware of how bad off I am.
I drag my arm off my eyes and try to pull myself up from the waves reach but it is too much. My arm gives out and I collapse into the rising tide. I will drown if I don't move.
Another wave comes but larger and smashes me cruelly into the sands. A strangled scream escapes as darkness overwhelms me. There is no ground under me. I am floating. I can't breathe but when I open my mouth water rushes in. I'm drowning. No!
I struggle but I am pulled away from the beach. I fight, wailing my working arm till I realize it is in the grip of someone. Someone who is tugging me to shore.
My head breaks the surface and I collapse onto the sands. Coughing out the water as a hand pounds my back, I notice the person is also holding me up. I wanted to turn and look at him, but the spinning in my head caught up with me, sending me back into oblivion.
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(Q) What do you do when you shut out the past and one day the past collapses at your feet again? What a way to bring me to a sputtering halt. Memories come shattering my fragile quiet. So what if I don't take well to surprises and if I react badly to many of them. I don't even know why I was out on the beach anyways but I was there and so was he. I was actually tempted to let him get pulled back into the sea. I could of let the past lay dead, but I heard him cry out. This is the last person I ever expected to cry especially in what could of been his last battle.
I dove in after him and he smacked at me, but I wouldn't let go. Finally he calmed down from exhaustion or he realized it was me. I don't know which since he fainted on the beach.
It has been years since I last saw him, or anyone that really knew me. Five years since I've seen the silent one of them, and six years since the last battle to be correct. Who would of known I wanted to lose in that last battle? I didn't want to live life quietly out. I wanted to go out as quickly as so many of the people I had killed. Yes, I hated the bloodshed. I would try anyway I could think of and then... and then I just sort of toppled. Everything blinked out and I wanted it all to end. The battles... the hate...... the rage... Oh, how I hated everyone. Myself for falling into their games and everyone for letting themselves fall without ever trying to get out of it all. Even the pilots who tried to say the only way was to toss down the tyrants at the top. More tyrants will rise. My way was efficient. Take out the source of conflict. If there is nothing to fight about then peace will truly exist.
But I also agree with Milliardo. We should teach the world the true horror of war on a large enough scale that even time cannot erase the memory. But even he chickened out of his own ideal, when the 'heart of outer space' fought him.
I am tired of helping the world. Out here there in no one but the winds to bother me. I am just a fragment of the past still breathing and I seems another has joined me from the same place. No, he is more than a fragment. He didn't want to die. I would of welcomed the roaring waves embrace, but not him. Oh no, I figure he wants to still die a glorious death. That would so be like him to do so. Even Green Eyes was like that under his thick wall of silence.
Humph... don't want to think about him or the half-drowned fool. Well I saved him so I can't just leave him.
I wonder what he is going to do when he realizes I can't talk. Go ahead laugh or be shocked. I don't really care but those ex-soldiers were overjoyed to silence little, golden boy. Yes they wanted to follow through with some damn last order from some guy I had killed during the war. They meant to kill me but Green Eyes wanted me to live. I can't remember the attack. All I know about it is from what Green Eyes told me though I know now for sure it is not fun living through a slit throat and leaning you're mute. Now it doesn't bother me anyway because I don't have any reason to talk. They did it five years ago so I've had time to adjust and for the scar on my neck to fade to a bold white. No one notices it because of my scarves and robes. I hate trying to explain.
Back to Mr.I-can't-die-without-a-big-bang who is now sleeping in my tent as I fix a small meal for the both of us and the boy. Let's run down part of the list of his injuries: broken left arm, a several deep slashes down the length of his back, enough bruises to make his true skin color questionable, etc. Damn, how much can one want to live through at the rate he's going at?
He has grown though which surprised me considering he had the same problem I did. Everyone assumed we were going to stay petite and boyish. His face is a little more lean and his eyes don't look so childishly big. He is taller also and wider in the shoulders. Must be popular. Too bad Treize couldn't see him now or his lost Nataku. Okay, so I haven't grow completely out of my little kid look. I know I am much taller though. Last time I saw Rashid, right before my muteness I could look straight at his nose instead of the middle of his chest. Also, I can tell when I hear the village girls talk when I pass through a town for food. I don't like thinking about how I look too much because then I'll remember the scar on my face. Its from the time... no, I don't want to think about it. Damn, Green Eyes, you can stay there with your silence for all I care.
Ugh, I almost burnt the food. Rice and dried fruit. I ran out of meat a week ago and it'll be another two before we get near another town. Wait, three weeks because of him. Why did he have to show? Now we have to ration the food so it can last that long. Hum, the water also. His wounds are horrible and need cleaning.
I'll have to give him my spare robe since he's too big for Raiu. His clothes are in shreds, but they did make good bandages. I only have pain killers and my medication. Hopefully, he won't get any infection. He would die and then I will have to bury him. I learned how much I hated burying friends years ago, and I don't want to repeat it.
The sun is setting like a bloody tear tonight. How fitting. I haven't seen tears in a long time.
------------------------------------------------------------
(W) This time I awoke to the hard warmth of a wool blanket on the ground. I was staring above me looking for familiar stars and realized suddenly I was in a tent. I had to be. It was so dark and I could hear the wind pushing against the sides. I never sleep in a tent if I remember correctly.
I didn't dare move as I tried to figure out how I got in one. It slowly sunk in I was bandaged almost all over. My face felt as stiff as the rest of me but not as sore. My helmet must of protected my head better than my suit. My suit... why was I wearing one.. I can't remember... Something is missing I think... there is that echo of an unfinished thought ringing through my sore head.
I raised the only hand I could lift to my forehead as if to rub my memory back but to no avail. I felt a sudden stab of pain that ran down my back and realized that I must opened a wound as the spot started to throb.
I must made some noise because the tent flap was suddenly thrown aside and he came in carrying a small lantern. The shock on my face must of been unnerving because the look of worry on his face became likewise. I was speechless staring at the living dead. Trowa said he was gone and I had even seen his grave for what was left of him. How can this be?
He stood there staring at me watching me think this through and I realized I remember a name: Trowa. But as if to mock me, fate wouldn't bring forth the name of this scarred blonde. I am serious when I say scarred. Down the right side of his face is this white scar that starts at the top of his forehead and branches into three jagged slashes at his pale blue eye as they continue down into the scarf around his neck. Remarkably his eye is undamaged but there was something there that didn't feel like it was there before. I have a feeling warmth once glowed in them but now it was just ember of too well remembered pain and rage. Haunted, also.
He knelt down and carefully touched the arm I had moved. I tried not to grimace as his fingers probed the throbbing wound. When he pulled his hand back I could see my blood covering it. He looked angry as he bit his lip slightly and adjusted the bandage so the opening was closed again.
He looked quickly at me and shook his head as I flexed my arm trying to stretch an annoying cramp. As if reading my mind, he gingerly rubbed the cramped muscle and slowly the cramp began to go away. The wrong feeling in his eyes seemed to fade as he worked my arm, in its place a familiar gentleness settled.
A gust abruptly slapped the tent and his snapped his head around glaring at the tent flap.
The gentleness was gone.
He got up and hanged the lantern on the main pole. Then he walked out of the tent only to return shortly with a small bowl that was still steaming. Settling himself next to me he put a hand under my head carefully and began to feed me. Rice with fruit in it. The fruit didn't take as much effort to chew as I thought it would. He must of sat cooking it awhile because I gather we are in a desert from the smell in the air and the look of his robes. That would mean the only fruit here was dried.
I lay there eating as well as I could as he watched each bite in silence. He seemed very focused on the spoon.
Eventually the bowl was finished and he left again. He hadn't said anything. I thought he would at least say hi or is my little bit of memory so far off that this is someone else.
I think there was something in the food because I didn't feel the pain as much.
His blonde he poked through the flap and he stared at me for a few moments like he wasn't sure I was really there.
Okay, he is starting to unnerve me a little.
He comes the rest of the way in and sits at my feet and watches me stare at him.
Finally I can't stand the silence, "I remember the name Trowa.... but not yours?"
As soon as the name was out of my mouth his eyes hardened and he bite his lip painfully. Note to self: Don't mention that name again.
"Umm, I am sorry. I didn't know not to mention him. Actually, I can't remember much. I think knowing my name would be helpful, also," I ended lamely watching his expression settle on a guarded look as he nibbled his lip. I hate talking more than I feel is right but this situation is unnerving. "Can you tell me that or at least speak to me?"
If I could of moved I would of dug a hole and hide. The looks that crossed that face scared me. I cannot remember ever seeing someone go from guarded to pained to furious so fast. He now seemed like he was going to cry but tears didn't exist when so much pain and anger still tore at him.
I felt horrible and I wasn't even sure what I did. I thought he was going to leave but he lifted a shaky hand and touched the scar on his face before pulling at the red scarf bound around his neck.
When the scarf fell away I flinched. Now I know why he didn't speak. His neck had several slashes across it that all criss-crossed each other. It was a shocking white even against as pale of skin as his. Even the scars from his face slashed though these scars.
I didn't think he could look anymore pained but me flinching was all he could take. He abruptly got up and fled the tent.
I stared at the red scarf at my feet. It looked so much like a pool of blood. I shifted a leg and decided it was fit enough to kick the scarf near my working hand.
But when I kicked it, I heard a familiar sound: the rattle of a pill bottle. I felt a stab of fear tear at my chest. What else is wrong with him?
I closed my eyes and tried to slow my racing heart.
Thankfully I felt sleep tugging at me.
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(Q) Of all the things to mention, he said his name. I thought I could handle whatever he was going to say but that, no. I don't think I'll ever forgive Green Eyes for what he did before he left.
I don't know how to tell him about Green Eyes. If I can bring myself to wanting to somehow.
I can't believe I forgot Raiu will be back tomorrow with more food and the camel. It should be easier to move him with it. Bet that will be interesting trying to explain him to Raiu.
My chest is starting to hurt again. If I don't take my pills soon I won't be able to breath enough to stay conscious. What a way to go, huh? Eventually if I don't get medication my lungs will stop breathing completely. Damn, disease. I haven't taken the pills since the star fell. Now where is it? Duh, my medicine is in the pocket of my scarf in there with him.
I don't want to face him again tonight but the consequences of not taking it are worse. Damn.
I peek in to see if he is awake but he is only sleeping, fitfully at that. His hand keeps balling into a fist and relaxing only so slightly as he frowns at some unseen enemy.
My breath is coming in sharp painful gasps now. I hope I don't wake him. Slowly I push the flap aside and step toward him. As I lean down to grab the scarf, I suddenly am flat on my back with a hand around my throat.
I try to pry the fingers off but the grip tightens and my vision starts to darken. Well, this feels familiar. Damn.
Suddenly I am released. The air rushes into my pained lungs but its not enough. I need the medicine or I'm going to pass out.
With my breathing reduced to loud, quick intakes as I fight blacking out I try to find the scarf. My hands fumble over the bottle but I can't grab it. I trembling so bad. If this is what drowning feels like I guess I don't blame him for wanting to go out in a bang. Ack, the pain. I can't breathe. I try not to let the darkness get me. It feels like the first time with each attack.
I see his hand grab the bottle and open it. He poured two in his hand and tried to hand them to me but I was starting to slump over still unable to breathe. He grabbed me and forced my gapping mouth shut after putting the pills in it.
It took so much effort to swallow them but I got them down. If there one thing I am glad about those pills, is that they work fast. My chest loosened up enough to allow a small hiss of air in and eventually to ragged breathing.
The whole thing wouldn't of been so bad if he hadn't scared the shit out of me. That is the last time I will get close too someone twitching in their sleep.
Vaguely, I realized he was talking to me and shaking my shoulder with his good hand. His good hand... His wounds! He is moving around with such bad wounds. Damn how did he floor me in such a state.
I tried to motion him to lay back down but my hands were shaking too much and I had no strength to force him to lay down. Finally I just gave up and collapsed next to where I had him placed. Through blurry eyes I watched as he bent over me. His face was so pale he looked like he was the one that had been choked.
I let out a long sigh. That medicine worked really fast; I can almost breath normally. Well as normal as I can. Damn, he almost killed me.
I noticed he was still watching me and I tried to smile which is something I haven't done in so long. Only one side went up on that smile. The muscles in my scarred cheek are rarely exercised except for eating.... since it happened after I became mute...
My heart felt like I put it through a marathon and it hadn't realized it was over. The whole event has left me exhausted with the added shock that is trying to sink in. Closing my eyes I noted his worried look and his clenched hand as he fought the pain of moving. He was putting my scarf around my neck.
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(W) I thought I had almost killed him. His white neck turn purplish red quiet fast to top it off. I think that is what made me realize it was him, the white scars against the suffocating flesh. He was gasping in a short, whistling intakes making me think I had crushed his windpipe. But when he went for the scarf, I thought he was going to strangle me in return with it. Instead he kept trying to grab the bottle but he was shaking to much and his breathing was becoming more halting.
I did the only thing I could think of and that was to give him his pills. Thankfully they worked. I could see it by the look on his face as he was starting to be able to breathe again.
That scared some thoughts back into place for me. I remember doing something unforgivable and being thrown down. And down I went into the roaring sea. Unrepentant of my deed, whatever it was.
Now that feeling that I know him is stronger but I know I was told he was dead. Touching him made me realize he wasn't a figment of my imagination from trauma. I can hear his harsh breathing even now and I know his is alive but I am still not over it.
I still feel bad for turning on him. I can feel it on the inside that that blonde loner was tempted to leave me to the waves. I want to know why he didn't.
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Next Chapter 2: Familiar face with a strange name
By: Ange Colère