Well, seeing as to I somehow got myself grounded today (don't ask...please for the love of everything holy don't ask)...I found some time to actually do some writing. Go figure. Anyway, I do realize that some questions are formulating by everyone here, and that's totally understandable. As a fanfiction writer however, and a busy one at that (smiles) please understand that I'll have some errors, typos, and some things that just are left unexplained. I'll try my best to not allow this to happen, but if it does happen please forgive me.
I am sorry, for both the long wait and my mood as of late. I'm tired, and my family isn't letting off of me. At this point it's going to take a while for me to be able to do anything anymore. (headdesk) I'm sorry.
P.s. I'm sorry, Lala, for worrying you. (hugs)
Although Jim was happy to be heading home, he wasn't so certain if his quick flight from the hospital at Bedua had been the wisest decision. True, he had been eager to leave, as had Silver. It was also true that Jim had been feeling much better after finally being able to stay conscious for more than a few hours his last week there. However, Jim was still far from fully recovered. During the day his pain was not as bad since there were things to distract his attention and his focus. At night, however, as he lay in bed within the dark confines his room staring at the ceiling, the full coursings of true agony began to flow through his beaten body once more.
Unfortunately, the medication he had been given from Bedua after being signed out did very little to quell the pain. The nurses had informed him that it would be a weak prescription, and though it would be tempting, he could not under any circumstances take more than the doctors had required of him. The results, he had been told, could be deadly.
It was all Jim could do now, however, to keep from crying out in pain and reaching forward to ingest that entire capsule full of medicine. He wanted to scream, but could not. After all, Jim didn't want to worry Silver. The old cyborg had done enough of that the past few weeks he'd been at Jim's side. The young man was determined that if he could not get rid of his pain, he would at least quell his friend's fears.
This, however, was proving to be more difficult than Jim had anticipated.
Even though he had been released, the wounds on his face and arm had not been completely healed over. The initial openings from the more severe wounds had been sealed up by stitching and time, but there was still a great deal of poison and infectious hazardous material that still existed in finer amounts throughout his body. The poison and toxins that the doctors had not been able to remove now burned at his flesh from the inside, and his bones felt as though someone were running sandpaper over them. Every synapse in Jim's brain screamed to just end the pain now, whatever way possible, but Jim's own conscious demanded that he maintain control over himself. Somehow.
Instructors at the academy would often teach students to will pain away with just the power of their mind. It was impossible of course to do so completely, and in more severe cases there was in truth very little that a person could do. Tolerance of pain and endurance were taught and encouraged, but never exercised.
"Damn them," Jim thought as he curled into a small ball in his bed. Had he ever known that things like this could have happened to him he would have never even gone to the academy. Things like this weren't supposed to happen on sabbatical! The safety of the students was supposed to be guaranteed in all ways possible. How, then had this happened?
Jim had never been aware of anything that fateful night on the R.L.S. Mars. He'd been sleeping when the crew on deck had started to scream warnings and curse the Royal Navy they had signed on with. Something, somewhere, had obviously gone wrong. But whatever it was, it remained a mystery to this day. Upon waking, Jim had felt enough heat within the darkness of the bunk room to understand well enough what was happening. He'd sounded the alarm and suddenly everything around him had exploded in an ear splitting shriek of wind. The ship had been destroyed and Jim had been cast through the Etherium faster then his mind could comprehend. Then there had been nothing but burning. Horrible burning as his skin was barraged with dust and fast moving winds that were heated to a new degree of white hot pain that did not seem possible. He had tried to take in air, but instead his lungs had been filled with the gases emitted from the nearby nebula. Coughing and gagging, Jim had drifted willingly into a darkness that he had never expected to wake from.
Yet here was now, alive, which was probably better then what many of his comrades had ended up. Perhaps. He was, at least now, on his way home. Soon he'd be able to see his mother and enjoy B.E.N.'s company once again. He'd be able to enjoy the warm coziness of a room that was forever his, and relax in the only environment that had ever really seemed like home.
Surely nothing could take that away from him?
Jim's chest suddenly heaved. Leaning over his bed he began to cough and spasm. The fit lasted for several minutes, leaving Jim utterly exhausted at the end. His exhaustion was forgotten swiftly, however, when he pulled his hand away from his mouth. A thick, warm liquid had drenched his pajama sleeve and palm, running slowly through his fingers and falling in small droplets to the floor below...
...it was blood.
Contrary to Jim's beliefs, Silver was wide awake in his room, and had been for some time.
The cyborg cringed each time he heard Jim groan from the other room, and it took everything inside of him not to rush to his young friend's side whenever he became overwhelmed with violent coughing fits. He knew better than to believe that it was just perhaps a cold coming over the lad. That would have been too much of a blessing considering...
Sighing, Silver winced as Jim hacked up what sounded like some vital organ, then listening with concern as his bare feet pounded into the bathroom and the water began to run.
"This was a bad idea," Silver reasoned to himself out loud. "The lad's in no shape to be out and about. We should have never left Bedua."
Silver sighed once more, listening as Jim made his way back to his bed. The springs screamed as Jim threw his weight carelessly on to his mattress. Within seconds he was sleeping. Silver was thankful for that at least, but his worries did not calm, and it was many hours before he finally fell asleep.
Yet morning came all too soon, and Silver found himself grudging fate to have woken him up at all when the only thing he wanted to do was sleep forever. Exhaustion was certainly pressing the cyborg down after his few weeks in that hospital at Jim's bedside, and it seemed that nothing had improved even now.
Grumbling, Silver pulled himself out of bed and poked his head into Jim's room. He sighed in relief to find that the boy was sleeping soundly, or as soundly as could be expected in his condition. With a yawn and a hand through his mess of hair, Silver stepped outside to get some air and see what was on the menu for that morning.
Groaning, Jim slipped out of bed the minute he was certain Silver was a good distance away from the room. It had taken everything inside of him to maintain such a calm, restful expression despite the spasms of pain that plagued his frame. He groped desperately until at last his haphazard path had lead him to the bathroom where he quickly heaved a great many number of fluids into the toilet. After flushing it he brushed his teeth, cleaned his shirt (except for the dried blood on his sleeve) and changed into a clean pair of clothes. Jim inwardly thanked the hospitality of the residents at the Bedua clinic for donating clothes to him for his trip home. It certainly was nice not having to wear the same thing for the next few days until he made it home.
If he made it home.
Shuddering, Jim bit his lip in hopes to quell another threatening wave of illness just in time for Silver to reenter the room.
"Hey Jimbo!" He greeted in a jovialness that was obviously forced. "How you feelin'?"
Jim forced an equally jovial smile and turned to face Silver. "Not too bad," he lied. Suddenly, Jim noticed the small package wrapped and tucked beneath Silver's right arm. "What's that?"
"Oh. I uh...took a few things from the kitchen."
Jim raised an eyebrow and stared his friend down. "You stole food?"
"Not stole!" Silver hastily, but unconvincingly interjected. "I just took a few liberties to...um..."
The young man grinned and shook his head. "You stole it."
"Well I...I...you..." Silver's face flushed suddenly. "Well it's not like they're not thieves! You know how much this room cost?"
"I said I'd pay you back!" Jim argued.
Silver frowned. That really hadn't been the response he'd wanted from Jim, but at the present time it was little of his concern.
"And I said don't worry about it," Silver argued back in a tone that ended the conversation once and for all. "Here, eat something." Opening the package, Silver tossed Jim a loaf of bread and some cheese. "It ain't much, but it'll do you over for now. I don't imagine your appetite's returned yet."
Jim sighed, then thanked Silver for his kindness while trying to force down a few bites of stale bread and smelly cheese. Silver made no point to observe his young friend, and instead made his way to his room where he hoped to be able to finally get some rest now that Jim was up and better. Perhaps, also, to pour over some of his current plans to get back to Montressor without inflicting too much trauma upon Jim. He waved his mechanical hand and closed the door swiftly behind him.
And without a second thought he lay down on his bed and fell asleep.
It was very late in the evening when Silver awoke once more. He was utterly amazed at himself for having slept so long, yet cursed himself for doing so as well. Silver hadn't even intended on falling asleep, in truth, but it had happened nonetheless.
Now, with the day being shot, Silver wondered how Jim had faired. He checked in on the lad in his own room, and was relieved to find that he was sleeping soundly.
With a hesitant sigh, Silver wiped some sweat from his brow and stepped outside of the room into the corridor.
Then, without warning, the ship lurched violently to one side. Ironically enough, it sent him sprawling directly back into his room, through the door into Jim's room, and had him lying halfway between the wall and the floor. Jim, who had been tossed with an equal force from his own bed now pulled himself up to peer questioningly at Silver.
"What the hell was that?" he yelled over the terrified screams that now rose from the corridor.
"Beats me," Silver commented, slowly helping Jim to his feet. "Stay here, I'll go find out." And with that Silver ran from the room and through the halls to the deck above...
...only to find the most horrifying sight of his life.
Oh dear, what have I done? Besides leave a tremendous cliffhanger? Bwahahahahahahaha! I'm so evil.
So sorry for the long wait. Thank you in advance for your reviews. Take care and many hugs to you all! (sneezes) And now...ON TO PSYCHOLOGY CLASS! The class where everyday you walk out with a new self-diagnosis of a mental disorder! (smiles)