Shattered

Reunited

Van coughed and rolled to his side where his fingers thudded against cool metal. His eyes flickered open to a bright, white room. He was in a white, soft bed bordered by low bars and blinking machines. A soft hum filled the room. He felt the vibration in his skull. There was a wall full of windows, but each was covered with slats and bars and Van could make little sense of the place.

He pulled himself to a seated position and tried to remember what happened. He recalled an impact… then nothing. I must have been hurt. Maybe this is where they take the injured… He breathed deep, noting the heavy herby scent of the place. Medicine. Must be a place they care for sick… Maybe Hitomi will be here!

Van twisted his head to the side and looked at the door. If Hitomi was out there, somewhere, then Fate must be propelling them together. He took a deep breath and tried to swing his legs over the metal rails. His muscles hardly responded and he collapsed against the pillows, groaning. His body was searing hot and aching. Each movement brought a sudden bite of pain. He gripped one of his legs when a slight spasm shook him and was startled to discover he was not wearing any pants. A quick inspection of himself, now fully awake, revealed he was wearing a papery-thin material that covered only his front and, even that, only minimally.

A quick grunt and shift and he was leaning on the metal bars for support, struggling to get them to collapse and allow the bed to release him without the painful movements of his legs. But no such luck.

Tilting his head, Van glanced swiftly around the room again. The machines near him beeped softly in response to his shifting. He coughed and shivered at the ache it caused in his body. He slowly became aware of his wings, aching for release and stretching. They, too, burned with agony and pain from the impact and his chest heaved at the difficulty of restraining himself. His fists clenched the blankets, beads of sweat dripped past his eyes, and a single machine started trilling loudly.

The door slammed open and two white-clad bodies rumbled inside. They shuffled around him to look at the machine first, muttering to each other in the strange language. A welcome distraction from the throbbing in his back, Van immediately decided to beg these important-looking people to help him find his Hitomi. He didn't get a chance to speak.

"You okay there? Your heart rate was clippin' right along!" The heavyset woman who had entered second spoke. Van coughed again, his thin frame shivering, struggling to decode any part of her speech.

"Oh, Honey, leave the poor kid alone. Try to convince him not to sue," the other woman smiled at him. Van became excruciatingly aware of his lack of pants. The women tugged wires and adjusted machines, then turned to go.

"Wait!" Van yelped, and Honey turned around.

"Gina, hang on a second. He needs something." Gina returned to her friend's side and both women looked at the young man seated on the hospice bed.

"Excuse me, I need my clothes and weapon," Van spoke very slowly, hoping the women would catch what he wanted and bring him back his clothing. The air in the room was increasingly cold and he could feel gentle gushes of the warmer air in the hallway – they had left the door open.

"Oh dear. He must be a foreigner. I've never heard that language in all my life!" Gina lamented. "I hope he didn't come from a place with a lot of lawyers… Honey, do you think he can understand us? Oh dear, oh dear… What a mess we are in," she cast a glance at Honey, who was nodding her curly blond hair at Van's delicate speech.

"Please, ladies, I need… I need…" Van floundered for a word they might catch, "pants. I want my pants."

Honey clapped her hands in delight. "Gina! Hear that? Pantsu! Pantsu! Clothes, he wants his clothes!" she grinned, satisfied with her brilliant detective work. Gina stared between the doorjamb and ceiling, considering and weighing her choices.

"Is he the patient that came in with the sword?" she asked abruptly. Honey shrugged, then nodded;

"I think."

"Well… it was a real sword, I heard. I'm guessing that he may be somewhat mentally unstable. Really, have you ever heard a language like that? He looks Japanese… perhaps this language is something he made up in his own mind. It sounds like our dialect, but none of the words are correct."

Honey bit her lip. "So, no clothes?"

Gina nodded. "No clothes."

Van's devastatingly confused look brought out maternal smiles and pats on the head from both women. Gina vanished almost immediately afterwards, leaving Honey besides Van, trying to explain that he would not receive his clothing until he was discharged from the hospice. She was not making any progress, and Van, realizing that the exchange left him weaponless, sighed and shrugged pathetically.

"No…" he shook his hand, "No pants?"

Honey smiled and hugged him as she would a child. "Not yet, snuggle pie. Don't worry; we'll get you you're clothes sometime soon!" She giggled and made her way to the door, pointing at her puffy nurse pants. "Pantsu!" And she was gone.

Van groaned and flopped back on the bed. What was he going to do now? No clothing, no weapon, and he hadn't even had the chance to ask about Hitomi. He stretched out against a pillow and took a deep breath. He reached toward the machines he watched them prodding and adjusting and carefully poked a few buttons. It whirred and went silent. He searched for buttons or switches with the same words scrawled beside them and, gradually, all the machines quieted.

A long minute passed by – no one came to check on him. Van reached down and tugged the wires surrounding him off to the side, ripping out a needle in his arm with a wince. Sitting there, plugging his tiny wound, Van waiting again. No one came.

Finally, he staggered up and to the door, his leg muscles screaming with every step. He clutched the frame and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath against the pain. The pendant rocked gently against his chest, and Van knew his Hitomi was somewhere here – somewhere near, even.

The door whispered silently over the cold tile as Van inched it open. An empty, silent hallway awaited him. He breathed in the antiseptic sting of the walls and took a step out into the building.

That interaction had left him with one thing – the word "pants." The two doctors (were they doctors? He wasn't sure) understand that much of his speech. That word, at least, could get him to his clothes, if he played it right. Van scrambled down the hall and ducked into an empty room, mirroring his. Working slowly this way, the king checked every room down the hallway. At one point, he thought he heard people rushing into his room, but it turned out it was only the room across from his. When the doctors were out of sight, he crept into a tiny boxed area whose doors slid soundlessly closed.

He crumpled to the floor, gasping and clinging to his cloth. The achy, fiery burn from his wings and muscles was pulling him downward, begging for a rest. But he had to find Hitomi. He needed to make sure she was safe.

The room he hid in was tiny and empty. Buttons, much like those on the machines in his sickroom, decorated one wall. The doors remained tightly closed. Van snatched a rail over his head and hauled his tired body to its feet again, examining these buttons. His fingers brushed over them. Carefully, he selected the lowest button in a long column and jabbed his finger into it, squeezing his eyes closed with apprehension.

For a long moment, nothing happened. The walls remained silent and the doors stayed sealed. Then, Van heard a soft humming from somewhere far off, and the room jolted. He cried out in alarm, sprawling onto the floor. Ignoring the pain, Van rocketed immediately back onto his feet, staring, terrified, around him. No weapon by his side and uncertain of himself, he realized they were drifting downward. The room shuddered, once, and jerked to a stop. Van stayed upright this time, and dug his fingers into the railing, fear coursing coldly through him, numbing the pain.

The doors, the portals back to this frightening place, again slid silently open. Van scrambled out and stared back at the elevator, shivering, trying to shake off his surprise and fear. He began inching down the hallway, which resembled the one somewhere above him, looking for other doors to search Hitomi may be behind.

He rounded a corner, peering halfway into a window, gasping to catch his breath from the elevator, when he bumped into another white-clad woman. His voice, torn away by the breaths he dragged in and out, could only gurgle. The woman smiled at him, confused, but helpful. Van motioned to his body, then to his throat, trying to convey his inability to speak.

"Oh, honey, what are you doing down here? This isn't any kind of recovery ward… You bring discharged today? You look fine! This hospice is quite a maze, isn't it? You want me to help you out?" The smiling, naïve woman bounced cheerfully in front of Van, who again helplessly motioned to his throat. He hesitated, then nudged his ears and shrugged, trying to show her he couldn't understand what she said.

"Oh my goodness! Are you deaf, hon? Silly me, you can't hear me, then… It's okay; I know a little sign language. My boyfriend taught it to me. He works with chimpanzees, you know. Here, this means, heart. And this means pancakes… and rainbow! That's my favorite."

Van blinked as the women started waving her hands. He poked himself in the throat, then the ears again and tried to look as pathetic and imploring as he could, motioning where his pants should be.

The nurse gasped. "The Lord have mercy on you, you poor darling! Are you mute, too? Oh, a rare case, indeed. Well, I bet you can read lips, can't you, then? Oh, here, let me slow down, you poor darling."

The king knew the crooning tones of this woman's voice denoted some kind of sympathy, or something akin to it, so he licked his lips and nodded, hoping desperately for her to help him.

"Are… you…. deaf?" She asked, achingly slow. Van couldn't understand her, but decided to risk it. He nodded, hard and emphatic.

"Oh… How sad! Oh, yes. Hon… Are… you… mute… too?" The king glanced around at her exclamation, and nodded again.

"Poor, poor baby! Is this from some terrible accident? Are you the only survivor? Did all your friends, your family, pass away? Because of this accident? The Lord left you alone here, did he? You're poor, aren't you, and living this hard life… Oh my, my, my!"

Van tried to keep breathing and ignored the searing, biting pain now shaking his back. He just kept nodding.

"Are you on your way out, then? Just got lost? You're a wonderful lip reader, honey… At least you have that talent. You want the discharge desk?"

Van nodded. He could tell he was getting somewhere with this woman. Hopefully it was in the direction he wanted.

"You want me to take you there? It's almost dawn, no one will be down there yet, but I bet you want to get out and start your new life."

Van nodded.

"Would you like me to take you down to collect your things? Do you have anything here? You want me to sign you out, right?"

Van kept on nodding.

"Alright, dear, here, hold my hand, I'll bring you down to the changing rooms and we'll get your things."

Van jumped when she grabbed his arm, but nodded once more and trotted after her. He felt immense relief wash over him when she avoided the sliding doors leading to the shaking room and instead opened a door leading to a large staircase. Van could handle stairs. He smiled at the woman and she continued down the stairs with him, humming softly, talking to him, and trying to get him to sign back. When he returned "heart" and "thank you" she nearly popped – her smile enlarged so quickly. Van felt relieved when the two of them reached another door to a smaller room, filled with boxes.

"Oh dear…" she said. "How will we find your box, without knowing your name? This could be hard… You want to look for you name… Oh… if you're alone here, no identification… Here, look at the anonymous boxes. One of them yours?"

Van dug through the boxes she was pointing at and gave a gurgling cry of release when he found his soft shirt and long, slender sword. The helpful woman, whom Van was taking a shine too, ushered him into a room where he changed and strapped the sword back to its proper place against his hip.

The nurse hesitated, uncertain, at the sight of the sword, but shrugged it off and continued in her quest to assist him.

"Here are the papers that make you free to go! I'm guessing no one will be here to pick you up, so just sign here and you're out!" She handed him a pen and poked at a line. Van had signed enough documents in his world to recognize the request. He rapidly scribbled his name, and handed the pen back. The nurse smiled and pointed to the door. "That's the way out… Good luck, darling."

Van shook his head and fumbled inside his shirt. "You can leave now, hon, you're discharged. Do you under – oh." Her face fell in the shock and pain when she saw what Van pulled from his clothing.

The picture was caked by mud, dirty and torn in a few places. The girl who came in a few days ago, a bloodied victim of the REP. The nurse had taken care of her last night, that silent, frightening young girl. This man stood here, bobbing his head, gently tapping the picture of the girl. The woman bit her lip and looked again at this young man.

"Your life really is tragic today, you poor creature. Did you know her?"

Van blinked and mentally shrugged. This woman seemed to know Hitomi, but she was not yet leading the way to wherever she was. Van swallowed, feeding a heavy chill settling deep in his stomach. He nodded.

"She was probably one of your last friends, wasn't she? Oh dear…. You know, people change, living through something like she did. Poor girl – she doesn't even want to be here. Alive, I mean. She said no one else would come for her. I mean, there has been a girl here, but she can't even stand it so much. Are you a friend?" The nurse gulped, "Do you want to see her?"

Van threw caution away and continued blindly nodding at her strange words.

"And you don't know how to get there, but she's all you have left, isn't she? Do you love her? I could bring you up to her, if you want. Only family and, uh… are you related or something like that?" Can nodded, realizing his back pains were again sharpening. The woman frowned for a moment, then sighed and took his arm again.

"I know I shouldn't be doing this, but that poor girl needs someone like you to fix her up. She's just as alone as you are. Let's go before this place fills up."

Van was dragged down a long hallway, perplexed. White walls flashed by him and he wondered whether or not she was bringing him to Hitomi. His sword bounced and jostled against his leg in that calming, reassuring manner. The nurse pumped forward at a fast clip, her clothing swishing against the polished, white walls.

They reached the elevator. Van cringed, but bravely followed her inside. If this was the way to Hitomi, he would go. Besides, the woman hardly twitched at the room's shaking and shifting.

The elevator doors opened to the eighth floor of the building and the brave king Van stumbled out, coughing and gasping. The nurse guided him to a trash can and Fanelia's great ruler trembled and deposited his stomach into the container. The sweet woman rubbed his back and kept his hair out of the way, obviously accustomed to this behavior. She hummed him a short tune while he clutched the side of the can and heaved. Finally, he returned to a standing position, shaking everywhere, tears threatening his expression.

"Claustrophobia, too, dear? You poor darling. I should have guessed, though, really. It's all my fault. Come on, let's clean you up."

Van docilely allowed himself to be led into a tiny room, murmuring slight disappointment when it did not contain Hitomi. The nurse smoothed his hair back and rubbed a wet cloth over his face and neck. He stood still and did what she mimed, rinsing his mouth out and washing his hands. When she was satisfied, she led him back into the hallway. Van felt much better, though the throbbing in his back was beginning to drive him half out of his mind.

The caring woman opened a door for him and gently guided him inside with her hand on the small of his back. He took hesitant steps, for this room was hushed and frightening, smelling more strongly of medication than the rest of the building. Machines hummed louder here, surprising him. A box hung from the ceiling, machines curving around the tiny hospital bed. On the bed was the most delicate, petite hill curled under the blankets, unmoving.

Van glanced over his shoulder at the nurse, who winked at him and whispered something he couldn't understand as she quietly closed the door. The king turned back and stared at the lump of cloth and felt Hitomi there, felt her great pain. He inched forward into the room, toward his Hitomi.

Author's Notes: I guess that ending was a little random. Cliffhanger-esque? Mostly, I wanted to end this chapter before it ended up stealing material from the next chapter. :P Characters tend to do that with me. Well, yay, finally another chapter to read and enjoy! The best news is, I actually started the eighth chapter while working on this one, so it should be coming along a lot earlier than this one did. Joy! Reviews will be snuggled.

If you would like to be notified when each new chapter comes out, please e-mail me at catwinner (at) earthlink (dot) net and ask to be added to the mailing list for Shattered.

Skittles1: They're finally back together (sorta). At least he found her now, right? No more waiting to see if they ever meet each other:P Joy!

YamiVixen: Computers are certainly not man's best and brightest moment. I hope you enjoy the next chapter, even if it did take months and months and months to get a move on. :)

JadedTruthI'm happy you enjoyed the last chapter. Not sure if this counts as updating sooner (probably not) but I really did try! I wrote this entire chapter during school. I'm bad.