Darkness in the Twilight
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal
Little by Little
Word had come to the floating hospital that the war with Basram was near an end. The armies surrounding Palas were essentially defeated with the appearance of the Allies of Daedalus and Cesario, beating back the guymelef's and bringing down the air galleons that held bombs before they could be dropped. Riflemen still managed to kill many thousands of soldiers, cannons firing toward guymelefs rendering even more of the Allies useless or dead.
Within a day, the tables turned in their favor, and Basram was beginning to relinquish its hold upon the capital of Asturia and flee its diminishing armies. That morning, there were cheers from the soldiers within the halls and corridors of the Zaibach hospital.
Gaddes had finally been allowed to leave his bed once his fever broke, given a pair of black cotton pants to wear over his boots after the leather ones were peeled off of him the night before. Haphazardly and a bit clumsily, he slipped into his chair and made it out into the hall.
"Holy mother of . . .," the sight that caught his eyes was breathtakingly painful. He had never seen so many men, soldiers, bandaged, in wheelchairs not unlike his own, missing arms and legs or both, lining and crowding the halls of the hospital. Some moaned in pain while nurses administered syringes full of red stuff into their arms or whatever was left of an appendage . . . so many maimed. So many helpless and in pain. The utter shock upon the sergeants face was hard to miss.
Allen had rarely left his room, had hardly eaten unless the doctors forced him to. He wanted to be there when Angelina woke. He was assured that it wouldn't be for some time, but he didn't care. He'd be there. He had to be there. He would curl up with her, always wary of the tubes and such things that came from her flesh, and pet her hair, whisper to her. He loved her so much...
Hans had only Gunter with him, but even then, the young healer had been tugged off a few times to help with some of the minor injured patients. The young man was silent much, aloof. He'd fallen into another one of those weird states where he took up speaking softly to himself and of his father's death. The arm had not yet been fashioned for him--they promised it when they had the time, when their halls were not so filled with the injured.
Grabbing the sleeve of one of the white robed orderlies that passed him, Gaddes managed to find where Allen and Angelina were. He was haphazardly directed down the hall, and carefully made his way passed the multitude of ailing soldiers, having to move around gurneys or stop suddenly before colliding into a rushing nurse with a tray full of medication.
He turned the knob of the door he was directed too, and quickly rolled inside, letting the door shut automatically behind him with a soft hiss. Gaddes' head already swelled with grief for the soldiers, but his heart finally broke at the sight of Angelina. She'd grown so pale, and her hair no longer shined as it once had with glints of silver.
"Oh, no," he breathed.
Allen was silent, curled up on his side beside her. He stroked her hair softly, barely lifting his head and turning his sorrowed gaze toward his lover. "She.... they said... Gaddes.... s-she... might not wake up," he whispered, his voice thick with trembles.
"Allen . . .," he whispered softly, carefully, his tone heavy and full of sorrow. Slowly, he approached the bedside, where Allen's back was facing the sergeant. Gaddes lifted his arm, resting it around Allen's middle in a sort of half-hug from where he sat in his chair and where Allen lay upon the bed. "She will," he assured his lover quietly, "She will wake up again."
"A-and they said... that... she might... Gods, Gaddes, she won't be the same." Allen rolled over, burying his head into the other's shoulder, shuddering.
"What do you mean?" came the frightened whisper of the sergeant, holding Allen gently even though his own arms began to tremble, "Of - of course she will. She'll wake up and we'll stay out of wars and battles for good so that we can raise her like we wanted to."
"They said," he whispered softly, "that she... she might... not be able to do things. Talking... or... or moving..." The knight curled his fingers into the other's chest, a pained shudder running through him. He cried, a soft sob slipping from his lips, clinging to the older man.
~
The smoke from the battlefields below stopped rising eventually. The Basram fortresses confiscated, soldiers imprisoned, and it was finally over. Basram was more or less crippled in power after its impulsive efforts to overthrow the richest nation in the world, and now all Asturia had left to do was clean up the after math.
Soldiers died within the walls of the Zaibach hospital, floating at a safer altitude now that the battles have ceased. Many with missing limbs were treated as well as they could be, fitted with prosthetics designed in labs located right on board. Many legless men left the hospital walking on new limbs, the armless carrying their children or holding the hand of their wife with new metal hands and arms.
By the time most of the soldiers had been treated and discharged from Zaibach's care, there were no materials left for Hans' own missing appendage. Gunter felt horrible for his friend, after he was discharged without the hope of acquiring the strength of what he once was. The doctors had apologized profusely, had tried to explain that they did all they could do. All that was left for Hans was for him to live with one arm, until such a time when he could go back to Zaibach and be fitted with a prosthetic of his own. For now, though, his stump had been cleaned, and mended to the best of Zaibach's ability.
Hans, in one of his moods, had only bitterly smiled. He'd said nothing once the news had been delivered, just bowed his head, long locks of blonde slipping over his shoulders. When he walked outside, after blinking back the spots from the sudden glare of sunlight, he turned his gaze to his friend, giving a small, sad smile. He ached, finally learning he'd slain his father himself, knowing he would live--at least for now--with only one arm.
"What good am I?" He asked Gunter quietly, his sorrow mirrored in his eyes. "I'm nothing but a cripple now."
Gaddes came from the hull of the Crusade, rolling onto the docking platform to make sure everyone was on. Gunter saw the man come, before he could answer his friend with reassuring words. Days would be dark for a long time, and it weighed heavily upon everyone's hearts.
"Come on," said Gaddes to them in Asturian, making Gunter look to Hans for translation, "We're going home. Angelina's already on board. Everyone else is waiting." It wasn't a secret that Gaddes didn't like Hans, that the sergeant only tolerated the ex-Basram soldier, and within good reason. His little girl, the Crusade's Angel was lying in a coma upon her father's bed from a bullet that came from the General's gun, Hans' father - lay dying for all they knew, or rendered helpless for the rest of her life due to a war that Basram started.
It was no surprise that his words were short to the one-armed soldier.
Hans turned silently, motioning vaguely for Gunter to follow. Quietly, he made his way onboard, ignoring any of the glances he got. Few were welcoming. They had all seen the destruction rendered by Basram... and he was, in the end, still Basram. He may have murdered his father... but even still... he had wielded those rifles once. He had slain Asturian soldiers.
It was no surprise to him that he wasn't allowed to see Angelina.
With curt orders from Gaddes, the ship lifted from the dock, propellers whirling, and the engine humming from deep within the airship. The Zaibach hospital was not far from Palas, only twenty miles south and off the coast a ways. So the flight back to Allen's home was not long. Gunter had been taken up as the ship's healer for the time being, making sure their wounded were comfortable, but mostly given charge over Angelina.
To everyone's relief, Schezar Manor was left relatively unscathed, with only a few bullet holes riddling the front of the house, and a shattered parlor window. The building was quickly checked over, and with Kio and Pyle cleaning up what little debris there was in the parlor, Angelina was moved inside.
The little girl was beyond medication, her breathing having stabilized over the course of her stay in the hospital, and internal organs repaired to the best of Zaibach's ability. She was in near perfect health after coming out of the super advanced infirmary, except that she would not wake.
They settled her into her tiny bed, doted on her sleeping form for many days while the house was repaired. Plaster was applied to the holes on the front. After two weeks, glass was replaced in the windowpane of the parlor. The world carried on, the sun set and rose and set again - and the fair Angel of Schezar Manor slept.
Hans, for the most part, was not called upon. One-armed, he could not do much of anything for these people. And so, he fell into his silence... without Angelina to entertain him, to keep him from his dark thoughts, he was lost, fighting a battle he had fought before within the Palas dungeons. He had no family, no home, his body ruined, his kitten asleep, quite possibly never to awaken. He didn't see much, if any, joy in the life he lived... and only wished he had the courage to be rid of it himself.
Allen saw to Angelina every day, whenever he could spare a moment. He wanted to be there when she awoke, even if she would not see him. He wanted to be there, to hold her and comfort her and promise that everything would be alright.
It was yet another day of peaceful calm, something that was so foreign now to the war torn areas of Palas. Slowly, fields were cleared, houses repaired, and the sky even seemed to be a brighter shade of blue. Riden came into the princess' room, quietly, and stopped at the doorway when he saw his captain cradling her like a babe. Allen dressed her every morning, put her hair up in those familiar ringlets, as if she were to wake up and ask to go outside to play any moment. But after each morning, the knight would resign himself to holding her and rocking her.
Riden had half a mind to turn away and head back out, were it not on the sergeant's orders that he summon his captain. He waited a few moments, respectfully, before speaking.
"Uh, b-boss?" he whispered cautiously.
Allen turned his gaze towards Riden silently. He had no words to say at the moment. He knew it was something important, though, if he was being disturbed. The blonde cocked his head to the side slightly, watching the smaller man, waiting. Likely, it was something from Gaddes
Riden bit his lip, mumbling slightly as he jabbed a thumb behind him towards the door. "Um - uh - the, uh, Sarge . . ." he fumbled awkwardly.
The blonde uncurled his arms from around the girl, settling her down before he stood. A lingering glance was given to her and then he turned, nodding slightly and walking to the door where the other waited. "Do you know what it's about?"
"N-No, boss," said the little soldier, following Allen out and down the hall, "He - uh - just said to come and get you."
Allen nodded slightly, making sure the door was closed behind him, and followed to other out and to where Gaddes waited. He was pretty sure it wasn't anything utterly heartbreaking or anything... but he didn't take the chance in case it wasn't. As they passed the room Hans was in, they heard the soft murmurings from within... and who knew if they were from both the Basrams who stayed here or simply Hans? It was hard to tell recently.
Gaddes had his own bedroom downstairs where he had access to it, stairs having become a particular enemy of his. The room was simply decorated, and he even had a window above his bed where he could fall asleep staring up at the night sky if he chose to. He waited there now, with his door wide open and sitting by the bedside table. It was morning, so he was just waking up himself, still dressed in night robes he'd borrowed from Allen.
"Riden, close the door behind you, could you?" said the sergeant as they came into his room. The little soldier nodded in compliance and left them to talk privately, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Allen quirked a brow slightly, approaching the other quietly. "What is it?" A little bit of worry lingered... hoping Gaddes was alright, that it wasn't bad news that he had.
Gaddes only slouched slightly in his wheelchair, his feet still bare and at a slanted angle from dragging himself out of bed. In his hands he held documents, with seals that were recently broken. It seemed he was reading both of them very meticulously. "My discharge papers came just a few minutes ago," he said absently.
Allen blinked a little, biting down on his bottom lip. The blonde walked quietly over to him, curling his arms around his lover's shoulders. He knew it wouldn't do much to help Gaddes' general feelings on the matter of his handicap... knew that for sure. He sighed softly, chin resting on Gaddes' shoulder, cerulean eyes lingering on the papers in the other's hands. "But... you'll stay, right?" He could only hope... after all, Chris, Ethan, Hans, Riden and Gunter weren't military anymore... or never were. But they stayed... he didn't know what he'd do if he lost Gaddes.
Gaddes huffed sadly, "Yeah, I'll stay. But - Allen . . ." The ex-soldier looked down at the papers in his hands, drawing forth the second document with the broken seal, scrutinizing it carefully before pulling back long enough to share a thoughtful gaze with his lover. "This one's yours," he whispered.
Allen blinked slightly, a faint frown on his lips. He took the paper carefully in hand, gazing at it. A flutter in his heart made him worry... were they discharging him, as well? He nibbled lightly on his bottom lip as he read over the contents.
"Sir Laison died in the last battle," explained Gaddes quietly, moving his chair away to lean back against the wall, "The Caeli Knights have been disbanded."
Allen stared at the paper in his hands, disbelief written on his face. His hands trembled... everything... everything in his life was falling apart. He was the only one left... the youngest, the only survivor. Allen swallowed tensely, unable to stop the tears in his eyes. So soon after he'd gained back his knighthood and again it was torn from him. There were no more knights. What good would it do to have one? Allen couldn't think of anything to say, his breath catching slightly.
Allen's reaction was not entirely unexpected, though Gaddes was unprepared for the tears and the trembling. He had thought Allen to be angry, and so he had moved away to avoid the former knight's wrath. But instead, he moved to his bespectacled lover, adjusting himself in his chair to sit up straight before taking Allen's hand and tugging him down into his lap.
"Really rather rotten of them, isn't it?" whispered Gaddes into Allen's hair.
Allen closed his eyes tightly... anger would come later. But for now, the shock and horror would linger. They took from one thing he held so dear... the war had taken so many others. The paper crumbled in his hands as he clung to Gaddes, trying to fight back the tears. He'd cried so much recently, it seemed too much.
But this was like a stab in the heart. There were others, surely, good enough to be knights. Somewhere in Asturia, there had to be someone besides himself. The knighthood meant so much to him, made him feel so proud...
But then again... what would they want with him? He was the only one left... and he didn't even have his uniform anymore. He kept with him a mismatched crew: a blinded--and quite possibly more--daughter, a pair of Basram-borns, two from the Mystic Moon, his crippled second-in-command... it was, perhaps, a mar to the country's face.
"Boss! Boss!" came Riden's shrill cry from outside of Gaddes' room, the small soldier's steps romping down the stairs before he practically fell against the sergeant's door to beat upon it with an excited fist, "Boss, come quick! You've got to come! Angelina! It's Angelina!"
Allen lifted his head, setting the paper aside as he stood, turning and walking to the door, jerking it open with one hand as he reached up to wipe at his eyes. He looked at the smaller man, arching a brow. "What? What about her?" He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he moved past him, padding quickly up the steps and to the room she lay within.
Gaddes could only follow up to the bottom of the staircase, staring up from his chair as Allen ascended and gripping his wheels in frustration. There was nothing he could do to go up those stairs, so he resigned himself to waiting. Riden, on the other hand, hastily followed behind his captain, talking rapidly before they finally reached the bedroom.
"She's awake! Awake, boss! She asked for you! I heard her!" said the little soldier.
Allen pushed open to door to her room, his earlier sorrow for now forgotten. He paused in the doorway, letting his gaze slowly turn to the bed. "Princess," he murmured softly, cocking his head to the side slightly.
At the slightest sound of her father's sweet voice, Angelina's arm lifted straight up into the air, her eyes still closed. Her mouth seemed to be struggling with words, working awkwardly, slowly around the word 'father' and emitting something that sounded more like, "Faaa . . ."
Allen paused... then padded over to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging her close to him. He ran his fingers thought her hair, closing his eyes. "hush, princess, hush..."
"Faaa . . ." was all Angelina could croak out, stumbling even over that syllable and stuttering the 'F' several times. Her arm fell tiredly at her side, her eyes finally opening to feel air upon them and tell her that she was awake. She didn't cry, didn't move much after having lifted her arm - now tucked protectively at her chest in an awkward angle.
Kio came in with Gaddes in his arms, having been ordered to take the sergeant up the stairs before he was given a swift caning . . . or so the threat would be translated later. For now, Gaddes desperately reached for his family, grown frantic at Kio's slow pace when he heard Angelina's voice before he was settled onto Angelina's bed near the two of them.
Allen bowed his head slightly, holding the girl close to him. He glanced up when Gaddes drew nearer, managing a little smile. Maybe they were right. Maybe her brain had been damaged... but she was awake nonetheless... and that was what mattered.
Gaddes could have cried, but instead he kept his resolve long enough to scoot nearer to the edge of the bed, where Allen was holding the mumbling little girl. "F-Faaa . . .," she kept saying, dragging out the vowel awkwardly in a choked sob, "Faaather . . . f-father! Father!" Gaddes' heart leapt into his throat, reaching for her and Allen.
"Oh, gods," he whispered, "She can still talk . . ."
Allen looked over at Gaddes, nodding a little. It would, then, be a test of whether or not she could do the other things. Hopefully she wouldn't have to stumble over everything when she spoke. "Shh, Princess, I'm here. And Gaddes, too, he's right here." He gently rested one of her hands on Gaddes' arm, scooting closer to him.
Angelina turned her head slightly at the touch, her eyes flitting helplessly while her uncle held out his hands and bit his lip. He drew near enough to half hold her with her father, his hands moving to stroke her hair. The little hand that was place on his arm was quickly taken up by his own.
"G-Gaaa . . . Unnn," murmured Angelina, straining, "Unnncle . . . Uncle! Gaadess. Uncle Gaddes. Father. Uncle Gaddes."
"Oh, Angelina," cried her uncle, struggling to place a tender kiss upon her fair little cheek, "We've missed you. I love you, Angelina."
Allen smiled softly. If she had to relearn all the words again, it would be alright. They could deal with that... but it would be horrible for her to have to do so. Allen sighed softly, her small frame curled close to the both of them. She was back... they were a family all over again. Everything would be fine..
~
The day had only begun, so they decided to take Angelina out of her room in hopes of getting her reacquainted with the waking world. Gaddes was put back in his chair long enough to dress before the confused and still immobile little girl was placed in his lap. The discharge papers were forgotten for that day, as Gaddes gladly took Angelina around the bottom floor of the house with one hand keeping her steady.
"She seems to understand us," said Gaddes to Allen over his shoulder, gliding into parlor where some of Angelina's dolls were carefully placed upon the couch by her father while they had still waited for her to wake, "But will she be able to . . . to . . . walk . . . again?" Just the thought was painful for Gaddes, having to go through life in his chair. Angelina was already blind. She didn't need that pain, that frustration he had to go through.
"I don't know," he said softly, nodding, "I certainly hope so." Allen gently stroked her hair, walking along beside them. For now, the loss of his knighthood was forgotten, to be brought up and be angry about later. But she was back... it was wonderful. She was awake between them, and could speak, though with some difficulty. That's what mattered. That was what truly mattered in the end
Angelina sat unsteadily upon Gaddes' lap, her right hand clutched awkwardly to her chest as the other was lax beside her. Gaddes stopped his chair, picking up one of the dolls at the couch and holding it before the little girl, the doll's hair tickling Angelina's cheek. She flinched slightly.
"Emily," said Gaddes, "Do you remember your doll, Angelina? Her name is Emily."
"Em... Em," murmered Angelina, but seemed unable to say the word beyond that, "Em, Em."
Allen stroked her hair softly, biting down on his bottom lip. "It's alright Princess, we'll try again, later..." He wouldn't force her into the right as she woke up... though he did realize that they were going to have to force her through it all over again. It hurt to hear her unable to speak as clearly as she had before... but she was awake,.
Gunter had been watching the scene with Angelina from the stairs, seeing the wheels of the paralyzed man in the parlor, and a glint of her sliver hair where she sat on his lap. Though he was unable to understand the words between them and the tall blond man with glasses, he knew of the girl's closeness to Hans. He quickly made his way back to Hans' room, carrying the tray of shaving items.
Hans was silent in his room as he had been since they'd gotten back, for the most part. He'd lost some of the muscle that he'd gained back aboard the Crusade, no longer caring of the stubble that nicked at his chin. He had returned to eating only when Gunter was there to insist upon it, to force him to do so. Useless. That's all he was. He was Basram... that had to be why he, even after promised the prosthetic appendage, had been last to receive... and hadn't received at all. It was only right, really... because of him, his father had shot Angelina, because it was obvious that she meant something to him, his father had destroyed that girl's life.
"Hans," Gunter said, closing the door behind him and setting the tray down quickly beside the bed, "The little girl. . . she's awakened."
Hans slowly turned his gaze toward Gunter, then sighed softly after a moment, bowing his head. "It's not like I'll be able to see her." They'd already kept him from seeing her before, why would they let her near him now? If he'd kept better care of her, she never would have been in the Basram ship to begin with.
"But you love her, don't you?" said Gunter timidly, preparing a shaving foam in a bowl with a whisk, "Why don't you come out of your room after I've finished shaving you and go down to see her. Sir Schezar seems like he's amiable . . . "
"I won't bother them," he said softly, shaking his head slightly. "They need their time with her." They were her family... not him.
Gunter smiled gently, always the more sympathetic of the two of them. His heart was always full of hopeless compassion, no matter how much devastation he was thrust into. The foam was ready, and he set the whisk inside the bowl, carrying the tray next to where Hans sat in a straight backed chair.
"You are young," said the young healer, being a year younger than his friend himself. He used a towel to set it into Hans' collar like a smock, picking up the whisk to spread the foam over Hans' stubble, "I can easily see her growing up to be your wife."
Hans smirked bitterly, shaking his head. "What a pair we would make," he murmured, sighing. "Nein... she won't be my wife. They wouldn't approve of it, at all. It is, after all, my fault."
They were both crippled... how pitiful a pair they would be.
"Again I ask if you even love the girl," said Gunter sadly, sufficiently covering Hans' stubble before taking up a position behind his friend with the straight razor. He knew his friend would not be able to reply while he shaved him, and he did so carefully as he spoke to him, "You know she reminds you of Heidi. You've told me as much. Of course, the little one is only six years old, but that does not mean she does not truly love you. And if she eventually grows affections for you when she is older? Would you truly and honestly turn her away?
Did you tell me that she was the only thing that kept you sane in this country before her father took you on as one of his crew? The only thing that kept you safe. In fact, you told me she was the only one who truly loved you for who you were. Now - do you think something like your arm being gone is going to stop her from loving you when she already saw the true shape of your heart?" He finished the last with the last stroke of the razor, pulling back and using the towel to wipe away the foam that was left.
"Things aren't that easy," he said softly, bowing his head. She did mean so much to him. She'd done so much and he didn't have any way to repay her. If she loved him, then he would accept it and... indeed, he would return it. He wouldn't be able to deny her what she asked, wouldn't be able to turn her away. She was too precious, too beautiful, too perfect.
It was he that was marred.
"I think they are," said Gunter, removing the smock and helping Hans to stand. He smiled up at his taller friend, noticing how thin he had gotten after so many weeks of staying indoors. His hair was dulled slightly, and his skin so pale from hardly seeing the sunlight, "It is just that you do not let things to be easy."
"Nein... maybe I don't. But I can't help it," he said softly, shaking his head. It couldn't be that simple for him, not this, not her. There were so many things that had happened in such a short amount of time... it was too hard to fathom it all.
Gunter began to affix the left sleeve of Hans' flowing shirt with small pin, rolling up the fabric to the very bottom of the ex-soldier's left stump before piercing the sleeve and blunting it was small stopper. Giving his companion a once over, he nodded to himself with a slight smile. Even depressed and dejected as he was, Hans made a very good sight for any lady to oogle over - even Gunter had to admit it.
"You look dashing again, my friend," said Gunter delightfully.
Hans turned his head away slightly. "I'm a cripple," he said simply. He knew he'd begun to waste away again. His color wasn't healthy, he barely had any energy these past few days. He didn't smile or laugh or joke as he had done before. He had known he was attractive at one point in time... but a quick glance in the mirror near him showed nothing but a shell of what he once was. The empty sleeve was just another horror to behold.
Gunter said nothing to his friend's comment, merely tugging on Hans' right arm and guiding him to the door. "Come," he said gently to him, "Let us go downstairs and greet the awakened angel."
The ex-soldier simply sighed, not bothering to argue. He walked quietly with the other man, long hair draping over his shoulders. He felt horrible. He felt dread knotting in his chest. Surely Gaddes and Allen would refuse him time to speak to the girl.
Gaddes and Allen had only moved around the parlor while Hans was being shaved. Gaddes looked up long enough to see them descending the stairs, the one armed soldier with his face downcast, his friend beside him with a worried look in his eyes. The scene seemed all too familiar to him, and he turned away, looking down at his precious cargo.
Angelina stared blindly into nothing, though her left hand was being more adventures and scraping along her uncle's wheel before he forced it away so that they could move again. They went around the parlor, so that she could feel pillows, ceramic figurines, candles, and flowers - all with Allen watching sadly behind them.
Allen caught sight of the pair coming near them. Hans looked so... dejected, as he had before within the dungeons. He was starving himself again, he was sure of it. Or trying to, anyway. Allen knew that feeling well enough, and knew the feeling Gunter was surely experiencing. Gaddes had been in that place once... and so had the blonde. Allen turned his head back towards his daughter and lover, watching them silently. Hopefully... she would be alright.
Gunter came into the parlor with Hans in tow, looking down at Gaddes and wishing he could say something that the sergeant would understand. Instead, he found he didn't have to.
"You saved her life," said Gaddes quietly, looking up at Gunter with pained eyes, "And mine. And Allen's. And even Hans . . . Thank you." The look on Gunters face showed Gaddes that he didn't understand the words - but there was relief in his searching green eyes, that showed he understood their meaning. The young healer nodded, trying to smile for them before tugging Hans before the sergeant.
"Go on," whispered Gunter to Hans, "Say hello to her."
Hans was silent for a long moment, looking at the blind girl. She had saved his life several times. He heard Gaddes' words, but paid them no heed. They weren't directed at him... of course they wouldn't be. He could feel Allen's gaze upon him for a few moments before he glanced away. The ex-knight knew how it felt to be stared at like so.
More than a little conscious of the missing limb, Hans spoke softly, voice still holding that thick accent. "Katzchen," he said quietly, looking at the girl.
Angelina's head lifted suddenly at the mention of her pet name, so suddenly that it startled Gaddes. She turned her head from side to side, her eyes widening with sudden realization. "H-Haans . . . Hans! Hans!" she cried out, her arms detaching from her chest and tumultuously reaching out to him, "Hans! Hans! L-Love . . . Love Hans. I love you, Hans! Where are you? Hold me, Hans! Hold me!"
Hans looked at her... how awkward it would be to hold her like this. Aware of Allen's and Gaddes' startled expressions, a little surprised himself, he crouched down and lightly curled his arm around her small body, shifting a little closer and tugging her near him. Feeling no resistance from Gaddes reassure him in the slightest... but not much. Who knew how much time he had?
Dazed and overwhelmed with relief and happiness, Gaddes made no effort to stop the man from taking Angelina from his lap. He watched as Hans held her carefully, with one strong arm wrapped securely around her as she embraced him around his neck and buried her face within his hair. In the end, it had taken Hans to break her stupor, to bring the angel back to her original state . . .
Gaddes rolled backwards away from them, tears lingering in his hazel eyes as he haphazardly reached to take Allen's hand, squeezing it hard in his elation and not caring how it looked in front of the Basram men.
"Hans," cried Angelina, rubbing her nose against his ear, "I've missed you, Hans. I dreamed of you. I slept for a really long time and dreamed of you. I dreamed that you smelled just like this, and the you were holding me, and I was taller and bigger and wearing a pretty dress that felt soft, and we were outside playing . . . oh, Hans, Hans . . ." she went on saying his name until her voice finally choked on tears.
Hans closed his eyes, bowing his head a little. He wanted to stroke her hair as he held her, he wanted to tell her that everything was alright... but he couldn't do either. It was awkward enough holding her with his remaining arm and would be far worse doing as he wished. And while it was wonderful that she was awake and well... he still felt his bitterness. He was half the man that others were. He was smaller, thinner than he had been, but it didn't seem to bother her. And likely she hadn't noticed the lack of his arm. All for the better, then. "Katzchen," he said softly, just simply holing her close to him. She was alive... that was what mattered.
"Hans," Angelina repeated in a small voice, pressing her forehead to his cheek and nuzzling him like a kitten, "I love you, Hans."
"Shh, Katzchen... ja, I know..." Hans just held her to him, his eyes still closed. He wondered, idly, what her fathers thought about her saying such things to him, but... it didn't matter. What could they do to keep her from doing so, after all?
"Angelina!" said Chris from around the corner, poking his head into the parlor after Riden went to gather everyone with the wonderful news. Their princess was awake and well. The girl's eldest Terran uncle sidled up to Hans and Angelina, her head perking up with a wide smile that showed all her baby teeth - and he hugged her and gave her a kiss on her cheek.
"Uncle Chris!" she said happily, not relinquishing her hold on her Basram teddy bear, but gladly leaning into his affections. Riden soon came behind him, coming next to Hans and Chris and gently touching Angelina's cheek before planting a kiss in her hair. "Uncle Riden! Where's Uncle Kio?"
"Right here, my princess!" boomed Kio, huffing as he ran into the room. He had been hastily fetched from the stables and he ran to the house as fast as he could. He, too, came to touch her pretty little head with nothing but smiles for her.
"And Uncle Ethan?" she said, bouncing a little in Hans' hold now that she was surrounded by most of her uncles, "Where's Uncle Ethan?"
"I'm right here, Angelina," he said from the doorway, smiling. Not only was she awake... but Hans was doing something besides laying about, already things were looking better! He padded quietly to their sides, crouching down and reaching out, lightly ruffling her curls. "Right here." He glanced at Hans... maybe now he'd fill out again. Maybe now he'd take care of himself all over again. Having her near seemed to have done it to him before. after all.