Darkness in the Twilight
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By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal
A Sergeant's Desperate Measures
Gaddes barely noticed that Allen had gone, only feeling a slight sting in his heart when the princess was taken back to her own room, her lovely warmth torn away from him - just like everything was eventually torn away from him. Pride, dignity, self-respect - all of it was gone. What was the point of living anymore if he could no longer even live in peace and dignity?
Allen shied away from the room for awhile, until dinner had been fixed and he, like usual, took it to Gaddes. He pushed the door open gently, not at all having forgotten the earlier occurrence. "Gaddes," he said softly, looking in, "I brought you dinner. You should eat..."
It wasn't often that you would catch the happy-go-lucky soldier sneer, but he did, and he did it well. Fists at his sides, and his jaw clenched automatically at the sound of Allen's voice. He nearly bared his teeth, in complete disdain of the prospect of eating anything.
"Why?" he asked bitterly, "All I do is end up *soiling* myself."
"Gaddes, please, just... eat. You need to keep your strength up. Maybe you'll get better if you do." Allen was hopeful. He could only hope it was true. "I worry about you when you're like this, when you get so frustrated with it. I can understand, Gaddes. But... when I went blind, I had you and Celena to help me. Can't you let me help you, this time?"
"Stop being such a fag." fumed the soldier irritably. He turned his head away, staring out the darkened window again, feeling sick of watching Allen and his pathetic attempts to make him feel better. The world should just end - right now. Everything should just be destroyed and then maybe they could finally be happy in the after-life. Gods, he should have died . . .
Allen was silent, staring at him, shocked. He... loved Gaddes. Gaddes had said those very words back to him so many times, and now this...
For a long moment, Allen did nothing. Then he, vainly biting back his pained tears, throwing the tray of food at the other with an angry growl. "Hell! See if I bloody help you again, you ungrateful bastard!" He turned sharply, tears welling up in his eyes, hands fisted at his sides. He didn't care that others in the manor could hear him yell, could hear him as he stormed outside and slammed the door. "Let yourself waste away, for all I care," he murmured shakily, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled over his pale cheeks, "you obviously don't."
The tray of food narrowly missed Gaddes, hitting the floor just over the side of the bed. A bowl of soup managed to slide of the slick surface and land squarely on his chest, however, and soaking him sufficiently with tomato cream broth. Wonderful. And he still couldn't do a damn this about it, except yell, of course.
"Goddamn it, you crazy son of a bitch!" He screamed at the door, "If you cared, you'd understand! I should have died! I should have *died* in battle! You took away my dignity! My pride! Go rot in hell!"
"Just shut the fuck up! I'm tired of your goddamned whining alright!? If you wanted to die that bad, you'd do it yourself!" The knight slammed his heel into the door for emphasis, well-aware, of the eyes upon him as he descended the stairs, angrily refused any food that was offered to him, and stalked towards the front door. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe at the tears that rolled over his cheeks, choking on a sob, his shoulders shaking as he slipped outside.
~
The night was dank and very dark - the sky being overcast and blocking out the light of the mystic moon and it's sister white moon. The air was heavy with moisture, and the smell of the sea was strong among the trees of the forests near the Schezar manor. Oddly, creatures did not disturb the silence, nor stir among the underbrush and foliage floor. All except the lone cricket that played it's shrill tune in the darkness of the woods.
Allen crouched down in the fields he knew so well... or where the fields should have been. He couldn't see, but for now, he didn't care. Gaddes... Gaddes had to hate him, right? After he'd gotten so angry at him, after he hadn't been understanding of how much all of this was hurting Gaddes.
The knight sobbed, slipping to his knees in the middle of the forest, sobbing, wrapping his arms about his lithe, shaking frame. "I'm sorry," he whispered over and over, only wishing he could have said it to Gaddes. He didn't know how far in he'd gotten, nor the way back. But... it didn't matter at the moment.
The darkness encroached the vicinity in which Allen sat, uncaring for any visitors, unkind to the living. It was a cold shrill thing that enveloped and froze the very heart of a human being, unforgiving and unrelenting. Naught more than an hour went by before such unrelenting stillness was finally disturbed, by a man's frantic and hurried footsteps...
Running . . .
Riden ran as fast as he possibly could, tripping over a root and rolling on the ground before he continued. He needed to find the boss. Oh, gods, it was awful - the blood - all the blood.
"Boss!!!!" Riden practically screamed into the forest, startling whatever wildlife might have been taking refuge among the trees and sent them off flying into the night. "Boss! Boss! Where are you? Boss!!" Allen lifted his head a little... but he couldn't see him. It was Riden, he was frantic about something. But...
The blonde, palmed his tears with a shaking hand, turning his head towards the voice. "What is it?" he called shakily, standing. He'd trust Riden to find him... since he couldn't easily find the other man.
Turning his head to the call, Riden was thankful for that moment that Allen had not gone far into the forest. His heart beat wildly like a drum, his bones chilled to the core and not from the weather. He stumbled over to the knight rapidly, grabbing at his hands and pulling him immediately with him.
"You've got to come! You've got to! We need to help Gaddes! Boss, he . . ." but he gasped, trying to catch his breath from all the running, meanwhile still desperately trying to maintain momentum as they ran back to the house.
Allen tensed, going with him, panic fluttering in his heart. Oh, Gods...
"What? What's going on!?" The knight let himself be led by the small man, his eyes widening slightly behind his glasses.
Just as they were approaching the house, Kio and Pyle were carrying Gaddes outside on a stretcher. A farmer's wagon awaited in the courtyard, hastily borrowed from one of the villagers nearby. Though they tried to be careful because of the soldier's tender back, they still hurried. Their panic was obvious once the lights from inside the house hit the prone form of Gaddes. The sheets across him were deeply stained in blood. His arm hung over the side of the stretcher, the skin barely held together as the gash from wrist to elbow was deep to the bone.
Allen froze, his eyes widening. Oh... oh God. He clasped a hand over his mouth, staring. "I... no," he whispered hoarsely, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. He looked... he looked so pale lying there, so... cold. Panic rose. "Is... is he...?"
Riden continued pulling on Allen's sleeve, even though the knight stumbled behind him, his strides eventually becoming irregular and sluggish. "Come on, boss!" pleaded the little soldier. "Please, you're the only one who can help him!" He wasn't sure if that was true, but they pressed on nonetheless.
Kio and Pyle had already loaded the bleeding Gaddes onto the back of the wagon, as they were staring off anxiously toward their approaching commander. This was a situation beyond what they could ever have imagined to experience. It was - simply unreal.
"Jechia," he whispered softly, utterly astonished, "my... it's my fault." His voice and slender frame shook, staring at Gaddes. If he hadn't left him there... if he hadn't gotten so angry...
Gaddes was going to die, wasn't he? And it would all be Allen's fault.
Oruto was driving the wagon, yelling at Riden to hurry up. All the little guy could do was drag Allen behind him, but the resistance he put on was terrible. Somehow they finally made it, and Riden practically shoved Allen onto the back of the wagon where Kio and Pyle carefully steadied Gaddes on the stretcher. No one looked at Allen. Kio was hastily wrapping a piece of cloth torn from his own shirt over the large gash on his sergeant's arm. The wagon took off down the road and Riden jumped into the back. He, too, did not look at Allen.
There was no honor in this death. All of them knew that. They had heard the shouts that both men had emitted upstairs. They were well aware of Gaddes' pleas to leave him on the battlefield the day he was shot, had taken him anyway because they were thinking about their commander. Look where such sympathy has brought them now. All Gaddes wished for was death, and all Allen wanted was to keep Gaddes alive, no matter what state it might be. Both were selfish, either way you look at it.
Allen was silent, his head deeply bowed. He wouldn't look at Gaddes he couldn't bear it. If Gaddes had wanted his death... the blonde tucked his arms close to him, hardly aware of the trek to the Zaibach infirmaries. What could he do for Gaddes? The man wanted to die, Allen and the others had held him back from that and now he was trying to take it. It hurt to think that the other man would want such a thing...
But Allen had told him to do it himself.
All his fault.
The wind was bitterly chill as they rode up to the airship port on the mountainside, just north of Palas and overlooking the oceans. It was night, it was overcast - and everything was extremely dark if not for the single lantern that hung from a pole on the farmer's wagon. The Zaibach infirmaries were once small fortresses, converted to hospitals for the purpose of aftermath in a war. Mainly the great war, and they had retained them ever since. They were immense floating castles docked in the port, with lifts to quickly carry several people at a time directly into the ship.
Zaibach's technology was extremely scientific and electrical. Kio and Pyle carried Gaddes on the stretcher down the blue lit halls of the hospital. It wasn't before long that Zaibach doctors dressed in long white robes were alerted to their presence. They always worked, even in the dead of night. Gaddes was placed on a gurney and quickly taken away from the soldiers without so much as a word. All they could do was watch them wheel away their sergeant in hopes that his life might be spared.
Allen didn't raise his gaze. He kept berating himself, unable to stop blaming himself. Did Gaddes hate him? Did he really want to die that much? If he died... if he died, Allen wouldn't know what to do, what he could do for himself. Without Gaddes... he wouldn't have lasted through the loss of Celena. But who would guide him through Gaddes' death, if it happened?
The blonde, stifled the harsh sob that rose with a gloved hand, fighting back the tears.
All they had left to do was wait in the unkind hallways of the infirmary. Oruto quietly taking a place beside Kio, both turning their gazes away from their commander and making sure to keep their distance. Even poor, sympathetic Pyle couldn't bring himself to be near the knight. All of them knew exactly who to blame for this tragedy should Gaddes' wish come true, and their hearts were unforgiving if they lost their friend.
Riden was the only one who stayed beside Allen. He and the knight were closest in age, peers, friends even. But the little soldier felt so much sorrow, it was just so foreign to his heart. He was a thief, yes, but he could never maliciously hurt someone. As a thief, he stole for the greater good but never brought it upon himself to harm anyone. No one, not even Riden, could bring themselves to speak to Allen.
The blonde closed his eyes tightly, his back turned to the others. He let the tears fall, the only sound in the sterile room being that of his stifled sobs, his harsh breathing. Even if no one else blamed him--which he'd highly doubt was true--he couldn't do anything but blame himself. He'd told him to do it, he'd given him the means to do it.
Riden cast a nervous glance to the others, who all looked up briefly at the sound of Allen's sobs before turning away. The little soldier placed a gentle hand on Allen's trembling shoulder, but it was Oruto who spoke, his voice full of bitterness and scorn.
"Why the hell are you crying?" Oruto asked darkly.
Allen froze at the words, more than startled. But of course... Gaddes had been among them long before him. He'd always been the odd one among all of them. They would sooner shun him than Gaddes, it was only right. They had formed a brotherhood before Allen had ever gotten there. But of course... after serving beside them, after having them so close for so long, he'd pretty much forgotten that. Their loyalty would go to Gaddes first.
It was only right.
Allen jerked his shoulder away from Riden's touch, his heart and eyes both stinging. The knight stood shakily, moving a little bit away from the soldiers. He didn't belong here... but he couldn't just leave.
Riden frowned and retracted his hand quickly, staring down at the floor with tears threatening to spill. It was just so horrible, that it didn't seem quite real yet. Before anyone could do anything, Oruto jumped to his feet, bounded onto Allen, plucking a throwing knife from his belt and shoving the knight against the metallic wall. His arm firmly braced across Allen's throat, the knife point dangerously close to his flesh, Oruto seethed. Several harsh protests came from Pyle and Kio. Riden could only stare in shock.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now? Mm?" breathed the soldier angrily, "One good reason why I shouldn't grant you death after what you've done to our Sarge?"
Allen didn't have time to react before he collided with the wall. He'd never had that cold, angry glare turned his way. He'd never been threatened like this, not by Oruto. For a long moment, Allen worked on calming himself enough, took the time to stare at the older man, tearing eyes widened at the sudden force.
Allen closed his eyes slightly, his voice soft, trembling. "I don't deserve it," he whispered softly. his own pain, anger at himself, his frustration leaking through. "I deserve so much worse..."
Gaddes didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this, but Allen...
Allen was branded a holy knight, but he could find nothing holy about himself. He'd been charred from the very day he lay eyes upon the princess. From then, his honor had been tarnished... and it only seemed to rust more and more as time went. His daughter called him a knight... but he didn't deserve that title.
With more strength than intended, Oruto threw the knight onto the floor. A horrific growl escaped him, an evil sneer of complete and utter disgust on his lips. He ignored the crunch of bone as Allen hit the floor, not caring what the knight ever did with himself from that day on. Oruto would stay only for his friend. If he lived, so be it. If he died, he would forever leave the services to the Asturian army. It was tiring, and he had no patience left to defend a dying country.
Allen winced, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out. His shoulder ached where he'd fallen, but he didn't move to pick himself up. These men... they were such good people. And under his lead, so many had died, they'd watched their friends fall and pass. Those deaths... they were his fault too, weren't they?
The knight ducked his head, narrow shoulders shaking gently. In the end, he was just another aristocrat to them, wasn't he?
"B-Boss?" whispered Riden from somewhere next to Allen's ear. He had a hand poised over the fallen man, ready to give him that reassuring touch, to help him to his feet. To do anything to distract himself from this nightmarish catastrophe. Finally he relented, and lay his hand upon the knight's unwounded shoulder. "Are you alright, boss?"
"Just go," he breathed, quivering, not looking up at him. Riden's concern was touching... even if Allen knew that it was because these men... were so much better than he was. "Worry about him, not me."
Gaddes didn't care what happened to him, right? Well... he'd just have to make sure Gaddes got through this. And then Allen would resign from the knighthood and his services to his country. And when Basram came to face them, he would stay back... among his own kind.
Surprisingly enough, Riden took a stand in his own defense. He steeled himself up some courage, and with all the determination he could muster, he said straight out. "No. I won't go." It seemed as if that would be the only thing he would be able to say - but he helped the knight sit up, despite Allen fighting him, took him firmly by the shoulders and looked at him straight in his bespectacled eyes.
"I'll worry about you as much as I worry about the Sarge." Even as he said this, the other three were already starting to get up and leave. Kio, even the big soldier - was leaving Riden to tend to the commander. Sympathetic Pyle already turned his back and started shuffling away slowly, his head hanging deeply. Oruto cast one last scathing glance over his shoulder before he, too, left them. Riden and Allen were the only two that remained.
Allen bowed his head, long hair draping over his shoulders. "You four... you've always been better men than me, you always will be. All of this... it happened because of me, it's my fault, I don't deserve your concern. Y-you've lost so many because I haven't led you correctly. I'm just... I'm just an aristocrat. I don't belong here. If I'd never been here, Gaddes would be fine, everyone would still be alive..."
Riden didn't think to question him. Already as the other three walked away, he felt the weight of responsibility press upon him. It made him choke a bit, made him stifle a sob, scrunch his nose in an attempt to keep himself from sniffling too loudly. His embrace was quick, strong, and once he held on he never let go of Allen, squeezing tight across the other's shoulder, and pressing his cheek into the knight's golden locks.
"You can't give up. You can't." pleaded the little soldier sadly.
"Why? Gaddes is going to die because of me and then what will I have? A blind daughter who clings more to a Basram soldier and a ruined name. What's left of those who served beside me can't stand the sight of me... and you're just too good a man to hate me." Allen reached up a shaking hand to brush at his own tears. He... didn't deserve to cry over this.
Shuffling white robes could be heard scuffing the ground at a hurried pace. It was a female doctor, well groomed and very pristine in her robes. Square rimmed glasses were placed precariously on the bridge of her nose, and she looked down at the huddle men upon the floor.
"You brought in the Asturian soldier?" she asked coldly, all business and no pleasure. Riden pulled back quickly out of the embrace, falling onto his bum as he stared up at the doctor in surprise. Allen turned his gaze towards her, wiping at his eyes with the back of his gloved hands. He could only nod, looking at the woman, the ache in his shoulder nothing to the dread that gnawed at him.
"Both of you need to come with me quickly. Do either of you know what blood types you are?" she asked quickly, already shuffling back down the hall the way she had come. "I'd like to make this go as quickly as possible. We haven't much time."
"Ah?" Allen blinked a bit, shaking his head. "No... not at all." The knight slowly stood, pulling Riden with him, starting to head after the woman.
"As I feared . . ." sighed the woman doctor arrogantly, as if to say that she should have known backward countries like Asturia would never know such simple things as blood types. She led Allen and Riden into a room with oddly reclined padded chairs. They forced the legs to be elevated and bent while at the same time made you somewhat reclined and half-sitting up. The doctor hastily directed them to sit in two chairs next to each other. Other nurses were working as per the doctor's orders.
It all went by very fast. Both Riden and Allen were nearly pushed onto the chairs, not strapped in nor entirely uncomfortable. Strange clear bags were set on poles below where they sat, and pretty soon, a needle was jammed into their arms.
Allen winced a bit at the needle, looking at the nurse that had inserted it. The knight felt a little odd as he watched the blood rise through the clear tube and into the bag. This was so much different than bleeding from a wound. "What... were you talking about, blood type?"
A nurse brought a sample of Allen's blood that had been poured into a vile connected to the plastic tube attached to his arm. She handed it to the doctor, who was already preparing many electronic devices that Riden and Allen simply could not comprehend. The drop of Allen's blood was taken from the vile, and promptly examined through a large glass like instrument that was connected to a swirling plasma screen.
Foreign symbols came up, and the doctor shook her head. She took a drop of a vile similar to Allen's , this one holding Riden's blood. After a second or two of analysis, the doctor snapped her fingers and pointed to Riden. "That one," she said, "He matches." Riden's eyes widened, already scared about himself bleeding into a strange clear bag, watching as it filled and bulged with his precious blood. The nurse worked quickly to close off the bag, seal Riden's puncture wound from the needle with gauze, and sent the bag off with another nurse with instructions to transfuse it to the Asturian soldier.
The moment Riden tried to stand, he looked around, felt his head a bit and said, "I don't feel so good." Then he promptly collapsed onto the floor.
Allen started a bit, looking at Riden. "Riden!?" The blonde slipped from the chair, moving over to the other man, kneeling down, resting a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at the doctor warily, narrowing his eyes a little. He didn't understand what they had done, why they were taking the blood.
One of the nurses quickly caught the tube that had been attached to Allen's arm before it sprayed the fresh blood all over the place, sealed it and took it to be stored. A male nurse and the female doctor hastily worked to pick up Riden and put him back into the reclining chair. The movement made the small soldier rouse a bit, his eyes fluttering slightly as a cookie was shoved into his mouth. Half awake, but always loving cookies, he bit into the sweet pastry and chewed it like a fatigued cow.
"Try not to move for a while, sir." said the male nurse, placing a cup of juice on the table next to Riden's reclining chair. He made a move to pick Allen up off the floor as well, as he noted Allen beginning to get a bit dizzy, and settled him back into his own chair.
Allen frowned a little. He knew about getting dizzy because of blood loss, but he still didn't understand really why they'd taken the blood from them. And how a cookie would help. Zaibach was here to help them, so they wouldn't do anything that would harm them, or so he hoped.
"B-Boss..." said Riden sleepily around his mouthful of cookie, "What's going on?"
"I... don't know. I'm just as lost," he said softly, leaning back in the chair they'd put him back in. He felt a little tired, though nowhere near as bad as Riden.
"Okay, now that the whirlwind is over," said the Zaibach doctor in her thick accent, "I guess I should explain." She stepped over to Allen, giving him a cookie and cup of juice as well. "Drink that. It will help with your dizziness."
Allen nodded slightly, taking the juice and nibbling on the cookie idly. He forced himself to listen. This obviously had something to do with Gaddes, after all.
"Your friend has lost a lot of blood," began the doctor, "And we needed someone who matched his blood type to give him some more. Your little friend over there," she indicated Riden, who had now hungrily finished his cookie and was now sipping at the grape juice he'd been given, "matched perfectly and we were able to transfuse his blood into your other friend. Clear, yes?"
"Ah... for the most part, yes." He felt... stupid the way she talked to him, like he was supposed to understand these things she spoke of. The general idea he understood, but why they had to have certain types of blood was beyond him.
"Good," she nodded, her expression really never changing from the arrogant stoicism she had approached them with initially. Her hair was tightly gathered in a bun on the back of her head, and it seemed that all the tenseness in this woman's personality ended with that hairstyle. "Another problem was found, of course - your friend's spinal injury . . . "
Allen sighed softly, shaking his head. "Yes...? What of it?" Allen's voice quieted as he was reminded of it, of his friend's paralysis.
Again, she continued in that same uncaring, professional tone, "Well, it would seem it is more than a week old and severely aggravated. Otherwise, we would have been able to completely reverse this." Her voice held a quality to it that seemed almost accusing, "Since we are brought here for the war effort ensuing between the allies and Basram, we will do what we can to help the soldiers of all the countries. But I'm afraid your friend might never walk normally again . . ."
Allen sighed softly, bowing his head. There went the hope that Gaddes would return the way he'd been before. Allen couldn't help but wince slightly at the tone her voice took. He's had all too much accusing lately, from himself and others.
"It is not the only injury of it's kind that we have seen here in the infirmaries." she continued, going over to Riden and nudging him away. "You must stay awake, little soldier." she admonished quietly, turning her gaze back to Allen whom she knew was listening intently. "Basram had been developing their weapons for ten years. Only yesterday when our floating infirmaries arrived did we receive a multitude of injuries those weapons had inflicted upon your countries soldiers. And the soldiers of the allied countries. With therapy, perhaps they can walk again with aids. There is still hope for your soldier, Sir Schezar."
Sir. He didn't deserve that title, not after everything that had happened. The blonde sighed a little, inclining his head to the woman. "Then I put my faith in you." What little he had left, what little hope lingered he gave to them.