Shattered
Empty Morning
As the kindly nurse first accosted Hitomi early that morning, Van awoke stiff and cold. His skin prickled against the cool sunrise. Trying to stand, the Fanelian king discovered his body curled around an air conditioning duct, cramped and twisted. With a low grunt, he pulled himself upward, toward the beautiful sunrays falling around him.
The first official protest of the morning snarled from Van's stomach. He jumped up and down, trying to ignore the fierce appetite and to warm his rigid muscles. Slowly, the blood crept along his veins, warming him, silencing his body's complaints as his mind accelerated to meet his predicament.
Wandering near to the edge of the roof, Van expressed slight amusement at the height he now found himself. The windows below him were dark, facing the hospice, which glowed supernaturally in the sunlight. He squinted, trying to see inside Hitomi's room. He couldn't even remember which it was, for, in his extreme haste to escape yesterday, he was not able to study the area.
So, his mind made up, Van shrugged off his shirt, stuffing it into the back of his black pants, and stared down at the pavement. Whatever happened to Hitomi, he was going to make it right, he was going to help her – somehow. He knew she would tell him. His heart thudded inside his chest as he imagined someone harming his Hitomi. He dug in his pocket and removed her terrifying picture, sighing as he looked into her doe eyes.
He stepped onto the lip of the roof and took a deep breath. Slowly releasing it, Van tipped himself downward and plummeted toward the hard cement many stories below. With time to spare, he freed his thick, shining wings and drifted to the hospice's front door. It was closed, shut tight, and he landed immediately in front of it, concentrating on reaching out a fist to knock on the glass. As soon as his feet settled firmly on the mat outside, the doors hissed apart to allow him access. He jumped back in surprise and then charged past the magic portal before whoever controlled it changed their mind.
The young lady manning the front desk looked up with a practiced demeanor: friendly, but not cheerful or happy, because this was a hospice and people are not happy when they enter it. The mask of almost-helpful-but-not-happy splintered into utter shock as the handsome king strode in, wings fully outstretched, looking from side to side. She cried out and threw herself onto the floor in front of his feet, making Van jump away in his own surprise.
A doctor, rummaging in his briefcase, slipped through the magic doors behind them. His work spilled from the fancy leather carrying case, carpeting the linoleum in confidential patient information. He fell to his knees and lifted his hands to the perfectly etched back of the angel before him.
"May God have mercy on us all, it's true! Oh, great angel, have mercy!"
Van spun around, astonished by this man's sudden appearance and loud cries. He lifted his hands and stepped backward; trying to put distance in between himself and these two prostrate humans. The doctor's loud voice quickly attracted many more people; patients and employees alike. Van felt fiercely overwhelmed and groped for his sword hilt, desperately trying to find some reassurance.
The nurse who spent time discharging Hitomi immediately recognized Van as she passed the group by in the entranceway. She forced herself past the growing crowd and reached for him. With a hiss of something in that strange language, Van pulled away, pressing himself against the cool, white walls of the hospice.
"You're here for her?" the nurse asked calmly, reminding herself that Hitomi left moments ago and this… creature… did not exist. Not in her imagination and not in her reality.
Van lifted the newspaper picture of Hitomi above his head, holding it above the group like a demigod issuing judgment for all their sins. The devout people hunched around his feet moaned at her picture, knowing that she was obviously going to meet God, now. Perhaps a mistake had occurred in Heaven – God could make mistakes, right? – and she was supposed to die with the rest of her family. This angel was here to remedy that.
One of the braver interns pointed to the picture. "She's gone! She left before. I saw her."
Van looked toward the skinny, terrified kid, unable to understand what he was waving about. He shook the picture at the childlike faces staring up at him and the intern began to wail.
"She left! We freed her!" he waved his hands around and then curled toward his other friends, desperate to escape the angel's gaze.
Van felt more annoyed as people continued to pour into the lobby and throw themselves onto his feet, crying and begging for mercy or redemption. The King of Fanelia stretched his wings farther and shivered them in the early morning light streaming through the windows. Cries of awe and shock rung through the hallways. Those noises were ones Van understood and grappled with each day.
Knowing that the people here, curled into painful, fearful positions around his feet were aware of his Draconian ancestry made Van feel faintly ashamed. Obviously, these humans knew of a strain of embarrassing mutations, the same peoples that brought ruin to Fanelia in Atlantis, Van's ancestors, existed here, too. Van felt little comfort from the realization that the humans were terrified of him. However, if he played it right, they may lead him straight to Hitomi. And that was what he was after, wasn't it?
Lifting Hitomi's picture aloft again, Van growled and flexed his wings in a somewhat threatening manner. The movements created the desired affect as the hospice's staff flinched away, crying out. Van took a menacing step in the direction of one of the doctors, pressing Hitomi's picture in front of him, gesturing like a lost blind man, searching for someone to give into the demands of a Draconian prince.
People were crying now, uncertain of their destinies, cowering here in the presence of one of God's all-powerful creatures. The more devout pushed forward, eager to touch the hem of his well-made clothing or hear their sins purged from His mind. Van continued to push forward himself, uncertainly, desperate for a sight of Hitomi to calm his raging fears. He waded through the thick ocean of awed souls and found himself in an antiseptic hallway, the walls ranging far back, doors everywhere, every surface painted a hesitant, faded yellow.
Van risked a glance behind him and saw a wave of people surging after him, calling in their incomprehensible language. He moved forward in a rush, uncertain where exactly he was headed, but convinced remaining among the throng would do him no good.
A door with crude lettering and a picture of steps leading upward greeted Van cheerfully at the end of the hallway. The King of Fanelia tore the door open and scrambled up the staircase, ever aware of the thundering footsteps following rapidly behind. He vaulted the steps three and four at a time, bailing out when his wings crunched painfully against a wall.
He pushed the door shut and dragged several carts in front of the door. It wouldn't hold it closed, but it would certainly make a mess and slow his devoted attackers down. Then he found a small, empty room and hid himself away. He was tempted to force his wings to dissipate, but they were his best defense beside the sword hanging from his belt, and Van couldn't imagine what kind of weapons these strangers held.
He hunched down behind the door, fumbling with an alien metal lock, managing to get a satisfying snick from the stubborn clasp just as a loud, shuddering crash shivered through his body. He knew they had opened the stairwell door and pressed himself low and close to the wall, praying their interest in him would soon fail.
Footsteps thudded heavily outside, some running, some moving slowly, searchingly. The doorknob by his head jiggled and was ignored by the interested crowd. Van waited until he could hear no movement outside his door and inched himself to a standing position. Peering through the tiny window atop the yellowing door, Van saw syringes, cups, plastic gloves, wooden sticks, and hundreds of other tiny bits and pieces of junk littering the hallway. He struggled with the lock for a few moments, painfully aware of how pressing the silence dug into the space around him.
Finally, the lock reluctantly gave way and Van crept into the hallway again. His brain swam with the realization that he would be attacked for his Draconian ancestry even here on Earth. He peered up and down the long hallway and slipped back into the stairwell, hesitating. He heard no thundering footsteps or soft whispers, so he continued he trek upward.
Near the fifth floor his legs began to ache and his back – where the ambulance collided with him – bit painfully as he jogged up the stairs. He halted at the door, leaning against it to catch his breath and touched the pendant on his chest. Somehow this small item was going to lead him back to Hitomi… he hoped.
Van looked uncertainly upward. The stairs ascended forever in his limited view. He couldn't go up indefinitely, never knowing where Hitomi's room was stationed. Van willed his wings away, grunting at the pressure they caused in his back and slowly eased the stairwell door open. To his shock, a young lady stood there in a starched white uniform, holding a clipboard, briskly surprised when she saw the handsome, shirtless Van before her.
"Can I help you, sir?" the young nurse inquired. Van bit his lip and looked pathetic again, the way he had with the older nurse taking care of him. The trick worked once, so he saw no harm in trying again. He held out the ripped and wrinkled paper with Hitomi's pained picture and made a soft noise. The nurse frowned, shook her head, and murmured,
"You know, darling, I think she was released today. We can check her room though, if you'd like." Van hesitated again, then nodded and repeated the gentle, sad noise. The nurse, her eyes full of compassion, led Van into the stairwell and continued upward.
"You must be choked with grief. The hospital has several really wonderful grief counselors, perhaps you'd be interested in one of their numbers later. I hope you feel confident that she'll be alright and you should regain your ability to speak soon. I know how hard it is… in fact, I lost my father just last year and…"
Van followed her, nodding dumbly from time to time, powerfully aware of his aching back and tired muscles. She continued talking as they pashed door after door or exits. Finally, she halted.
"Here we are, dear. You are a wonderful listener, by the way. I'm guessing she's a lucky girl!" The nurse opened the stairwell and hustled to another door in the hallway, she pulled it open and frowned when she saw the empty room.
"Aw, honey, I'm so sorry. It looks like she was discharged today after all. I'm sorry. I'm sure she'll contact you soon, though."
Van pushed past her, ignoring the incoherent speech and took in the room. The large machinery had been moved out, leaving the two chairs and a bare bed, new sheets starchy and clean, stretched across the bed frame. He peeked into the adjoining bathroom and noted its sterilized, shiningly neat look. Then he walked slowly into the room and sat heavily on the bed. His heart ached. Where was Hitomi?
The nurse patted him on the shoulder and tilted her head at an angle. "Do you hear that?" she mumbled, half to herself. Van tapped the pendant on his chest and sunk into a trance, searching for Hitomi in his mind. He opened his eyes slowly, took in the room again, then walked to the window. She was out there, somewhere. The nurse opened the window for him, cheerfully talking about fresh air for his sadness.
It was this moment Van's worshippers burst in with a triumphant cry of discovery.
"I told you he would be where the girl was!" one cried, collapsing at Van's feet. The nurse stared at Van, curious and slightly afraid. Van took the only action he could imagine that would keep these… people away from him. He released his wings again. Ecstatic cries filled them room and the nurse beside him burst into tears and scrambled away. He remained standing there, trying to fill the room with his presence, backing slowly toward the window, his old escape route.
As soon as the first doctor moved closer to him, Van turned and again squeezed out the window, scraping one wing painfully against the narrow frame. Then he was free, his wings lifting him up, wind sweeping him away from the hospice.
Doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors gathered around the window, crushing each other to get a better look. "Oh God, he's going for her…" one whispered, and they fell into prayers or tears.
As soon as Van outdistanced the building, he again closed his eyes and searched his heart for any sign of Hitomi. The pendant sparkled in his mind, shivering in the air. Van looped into a lazy circle, keeping his eyes shut as he swung around. The pendant suddenly jerked to his left and Van wheeled in that direction.
Ten minutes in the air and Van swept over the park he discovered her picture in. The pendant pointed downward in his mind, at the large body of water shaded by trees, and Van dipped down where no strange creatures or humans stood, landing gracefully behind a copse of trees.
The day was warm, unseasonably so, and no one looked twice at the young man strolling through the park without a shirt. Van's mind screamed for him to hurry and discover Hitomi, for he sensed she was somewhere near, but the exhaustion of the previous days and the flights seeped through his muscles. He was also careful not to act out of the ordinary and attract more unwanted attention. Unfortunately, Van knew nothing about how people here acted normally, so he tried to emulate the jaunty walk of a group of teenagers fading off into the distance in front of him.
His heart jumped when he slipped past a stand of tall bushes and he stood rooted to the pathway. A couple behind him nearly collided with his halted body and chastised him in their Earth language as they circumvented him. As soon as they turned around a bend, Van dove eagerly into the bushes. He rooted around, shoving aside branches, aware of the noise he was making, but too excited to care.
And then, there she was, lying twisted on the soft grass in obvious pain. Her hair was scattered around her soft, beautiful face and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Van noticed the leftover streaks of shed tears on her cheeks and the clenched jaw. Her fingers wrapped around each other, the knuckles white with pain. Blood pooled around her back and Van felt his own eyes sting with the unfamiliar sensation of tears.
He bent down at her side and immediately her eyes opened. "…Hitomi?" he murmured softly. She reached a hand up and roughly rubbed his cheek.
"I knew you were real… I did…" she said, rolling onto her back. The move caused a spasm of pain and she sucked in her breath. Van reached for her, uncertain what to do, but she stopped him by slowly shaking her head.
"Please… are you a dream?" Hitomi asked in the breathy voice, her eyes clouding over with uncertainty again. Van gently touched her forehead.
"I'm so… scared." Hitomi mumbled and closed her eyes again.
Author's Notes: Finally reunited… kinda! I'm sorry this chapter took so long. Summer was much more hectic then I imagined and I'll be moving up to college in a few weeks (two! I'm so excited!) I'll work on this as often as I can, but I (of course) have no idea how much time I'll have there. Please review with your comments and criticism and know that I love you all!
E-mail me if you would like to be notified each time the story is updated at I want them to be all mushy too. Stupid plot! Anyway, Van went to Hitomi, she couldn't tell if he was a dream, he left. The doctors thought he was some crazy angel from God to take Hitomi away (supposing she should have died too), so they released her on that basis and so no more scary angels came into the hospice. So, just a day passed:) Thanks for being such a loyal reader.
Crystal Twilight: Thank you for the kind comments on my story. Van was really there, but Hitomi, being so shell-shocked, wasn't sure. Also, Van assumed that the people were terrified of him because of his Draconian background, while all the people there assumed he was an angel. Hope that helps!
Pure hope: She's okay! Still… ish. And now they're together… sorta:P Yay for the story continuing at a snail's pace! Let's just pretend me not updating fast is… suspenseful. Yes, suspenseful!
Thank you for all your comments! I'm only responding to three a chapter, and usually the ones with questions in them. Thank you, thank you!