Chapter Five
Gabrielle stood in the center of the grassy area where the living women had been carried. Having returned her sais to her boots quite some time ago, her hands were empty, and without her herbs or even Brendan's tools, she felt powerless to do anything more to help the women who had yet to waken. Her green eyes traveled over the unconscious women to her helpers, who she could tell were as exhausted from their efforts to breathe life into the women as those who had done the actual rescuing and were now coming out of the water were. Joxer had fallen face-first onto the ground and had not even bothered to try to get back up yet, and Autolycus sat on the ground next to her feet, his mouth unusually silent and his eyes watching the women.
Gabrielle again began to walk around, checking on each of the women. They were all still breathing, but there was nothing more she could do for them. All any of them could do now was exactly what the poodle who sat beside the pale-skinned, raven-haired woman was doing -- sit, wait, and watch for any signs of improvement or worsening. She did not know where the little dog had come from but knew from the way his sad eyes intently watched the woman that he belonged to her and would not be dragged away no more than she would have been dragged away from Xena had her beloved been in that position.
A sudden yell followed by the sounds of heavy sobbing broke the stillness that had began to settle in the air. Gabrielle's gaze instantly turned to the source of the sounds, and her eyes widened with surprise, even as others' mouths dropped open, to see that Wolverine, who had never shed a single tear while amongst them, was crying openly and clutching a woman with ivory hair and chocolate skin. Her forehead creased as she wondered why the stranger had taken such a toll on him. Was she not a stranger to him, as well? The healer pushed the thoughts from her mind as she started toward him. She knew very little of Wolverine's past, but that did not matter.
Gabrielle had barely started toward Wolverine when the woman suddenly stirred. Seeing the movement as the woman finally began to come to, Gabrielle did not go any further but stayed where she stood with her eyes carefully watching the woman to make sure that she would indeed be all right and her ears open to those around her.
It was through a mental haze that Ororo Munroe slowly became aware of her surroundings once more. She felt a weight pressing against her, but as she grew more alert, she realized that it was not the ocean she felt. She stilled herself. Had she been dragged from the water as she feared they might be? If so, then let them do what they would. She would cut out her own tongue before she would give them anything that they could use against her fellow Witches.
She was putting off opening her eyes when she felt drops of liquid fall onto her bare shoulders. The liquid came with sounds of crying that finally brought her eyes to open. Who would be crying for her? She had no one save those who she had walked into the ocean with, and they would not have brought her out. As her eyes opened, she found herself looking up into a rugged face who, even then and though it was littered with scattered scars, she could not deny the handsomeness of.
She tried to speak, but her mouth, where even now a strange taste unlike any she'd ever experienced before lingered, did not seem willing to cooperate. "W-Who? W-Wh-What?" she barely managed in a choked whisper that her own ears could not even make out.
Wolverine was startled when the woman moved and made a moaning sound. He smiled for the first time that day. She would make it! Continuing to hold her with his left arm, he swiped gently at her face, removing her hair from her face. "I am sorry, little one, for everything that happened here today. You are safe now. No one will dare to hurt you while I'm here." He picked her up and carried her carefully to where the other survivors were.
He was not accustomed to showing so much of his feelings. If he had realized that the others knew he had done it, he would be extremely embarrassed. If any one had dared to say anything to him, they would have gotten a claw for their efforts.
Once reaching there, he laid her gently on the ground and turned to look for Gabrielle. Once spying her, he called to her, "Are they breathing without too much effort or do they sound like they're gurgling? If they are, we have to clear their air ways." Wolverine had lead many lives in his lifetime and had a lot of training in a lot of things. At one time, he had even been a medic during the war. He had seen a lot of people die but none so senselessly as the ones who had died this day. He waited for Gabrielle to answer.
"They're breathing on their own, and they've already been cleared. We've done all we can," came Gabrielle's gentle response from where she stood, keeping a careful eye on all the patients. "All we can do now . . . is wait," she admitted with a sigh.
Ororo was still struggling against the awful pain drowning had left in every inch of her body, but she finally managed to reach up and lay a gentle hand on the stranger's leg in an effort to get her rescuer's attention. "I do not understand," she managed in a weak whisper. "Who are you? Why . . . Why did you . . . do you care?" She had never known another who had cared for Witches who was not one herself, and in fact, she had never known a man with a good heart.
"Rest, sweet, gentle lady," Logan said as he knelt down by her again. "You're safe here. Logan will watch over you. Nothing will get near you." He could not believe how beautiful she was, and he imagined that she was not the only one. Maybe that was why the Christians hated the Witches even more? Most of the Christians tended to be ugly, and every Witch he had ever met was beautiful.
He sat down beside her and looked back up at Gabrielle. "Resting is all we can do for them now, resting and protecting them, but as soon as they start to revive, we need to move them to the safety of the ships. It will not be long before the townsfolk find out what's going on and start coming to investigate." Gabrielle nodded in response but did not speak. Logan sat just close enough to the woman that she could feel his presence yet not feel threatened.
Ororo knew that she should be getting to her feet and be seeing to the others that she had heard Logan talking about, but she could not seem to find the energy. Not only had drowning taken such an exhaustive toll on her body, but she had also felt the water's immense heartache for them as they had allowed it to take their lives. Even as she tried and failed to move her lips and speak, her eyes drifted shut again.
Xena had already made the rounds of their perimeters and had sat guards in each of the directions. She knew it would not be long. Either the townsfolk would come to find out why their friends had not returned or thieves would show up, hoping to loot the bodies. Either way, it was her nature to be prepared.
She had to laugh when she saw Joxer laying face-first in the ground with his butt up in the air. Knowing him the way she did, she knew he had worn himself out helping. She walked over to him and gently pushed his butt down with a foot. He never stirred.
Autolycus looked up at the woman who he admired more than any other he'd ever encountered, but he could not manage a smile or words even for her. His gaze shifted from her to Joxer who let out a snore that sounded much more like a bear's than a man's before returning to the women.
From where she stood watching, Gabrielle released a sigh. At least one would live. It seemed to her that one woman's return to life was an opening for the others for it was at that same time that a sharp yip of excitement brought her attention back to the poodle and the woman who he guarded. She started to head toward the dog, who was standing at alert with his paws on his mistress' chest, and the woman, but even as she did so, she was stopped by the sounds of other women starting to come to all around her.
The first thing Elvira became aware of was the gentle pressure of familiar paws on her chest. "G-Gonk?" she whispered. "Wh-What happened? Th-They didn't get -- ?" She was struggling to speak, and Gonk quickly silenced her with two yips, a technique that they had worked out long ago. She tried to open her eyes, but they still hurt too much from the pressure of the water flooding against them.
"D-Delvira?" she asked in a choked whisper. Her answer came again in two yips, and her pale forehead creased in confusion. "T-Then w-what?" Gonk set off barking then, trying to explain to her how he had ran into Carl and how the Gnome, the strange wolf, and the other Pirates had all joined together to come to her and the others' rescues, but Elvira only shook her head weakly. "Gods, I wish I could understand you better," she whispered, her voice so faint that it could not be heard by human ears.
Wolf had been walking the perimeter in the opposite direction of what Xena had been walking. He knew they would come and that it was only a matter of time. He did not like being out in the open. Wolves never liked to be out in the open.
He had heard the dog talking to its mistress. He listened but did not hear anything that upset him, so he continued on his rounds. One glimpse of the beautiful woman had got his blood excited. He knew that if he had been in man form, he would have had to leap over there and introduce himself, but for now he would keep his distance. With Xena going one way and he going the other way, he knew they had everything covered.
She had not known what to expect when she next returned to consconiousness, but the buzzing of unfamiliar, human voices around her had certainly not been it. Her first thoughts were of her family. She had accepted her death while almost in the center of her family's part of the line, but her hands, that had held to Prue's and Phoebe's, were empty. She had to force her eyes to open, and when they had, she instantly regretted it for the harsh rays of the sun that cascaded down upon her. She shut her eyes instinctively at first but forced herself to open them again. This time, she did not shut them but looked around at her surroundings as best she could.
She knew this ground. She had walked down it just a little while ago, and she had picnicked on it with her family for years before. She had not died, but she was, she realized with panicked glances all around her, alone. Her family was nowhere in her sights. She had lived . . . but they had died. Sobs broke instantly from her aching throat, and though it burned, she continued to sob openly, tears flooding her cheeks.
She should have died with them! She should not be here, should not be alive! She should be with them, even if it were rotting at the bottom of the ocean! She did not know what had gone wrong, but it did not matter. Her family was gone from her forever, and she had somehow failed them in their last breaths! In her desperation and grief, she flailed a weak hand in an attempt to strike at what she hated most then -- herself.
Cole had been on his way back to check the ladies he had rescued when he saw one who seemed to be fighting the air. He went and squatted down beside her. She was one of the ones he had rescued. He caught both of her hands in one of his, successfully stilling her struggles. Her hands were small and helpless, but she was very angry. "Miss?" he asked. "What's wrong? Can I do something to help you? You're safe here."
"I should not be," she responded to the stranger before she could stop herself. "I should not be here. I should not be alive." It was through dark eyes blurred with tears that she looked up at him, and she was startled that the sight of his handsome face and water still shimmering on his muscular chest made her heart skip a beat. "I should be with them," she cried, "with my family." Who was this man? Where had he come from? Was he to be trusted? None of that mattered, however, her heart argued silently with her brain. All that mattered was that her family was gone, that they had died, but she had lived.
"You're not the only survivor. I don't know if your family's here or not. We did the best that we could. Whatever in the world possessed you women to drown yourselves? You should have stood and fought against your enemy, not just walk blindly into the sea! Death does no one any good!"
He did not mean to come across so roughly with her, but this day had just served as a reminder of what had happened to his own family. He still had not been able to figure out why they had not fought. Why had they gone simply into the sea?
"I can help you to look for your family, if you'll allow me to touch you." He figured she probably wouldn't trust him enough to do it. After all, he didn't even have shoes on, and a lady such as herself probably would frown down upon a man such as he was. "I am but a simple pirate, ma'am, but I am here to do what I can to help you." He lowered his hand to her to assist her to her feet.
Her mind was swimming, and her body throbbed from the weight of the water that had pushed so violently against every inch of her hair and skin. Her hazy mind whirled as she tried to grasp at what he was saying. She had been about to answer him when he had declared himself to be a simple pirate there to help her. "A p-pirate?" she repeated in a small, weak voice as she looked up at his offered hand through cloudy eyes. She had always been taught to fear pirates and had never heard of a heroic one such as this man who stood before her, the man who had rescued her . . . and others? Was her family alive? Were they here somewhere? There was only one way to find out, and she reached up to take his hand.
Cole gently pulled her up to him, but though he was gentle and her movements slow, the world still whirled around Piper at a blinding rate as she stood. She managed to make it to her feet but instantly started to collapse against him. Cole's movements were sure and swift as he picked her completely up. Her burning throat ached too much for her to gasp her surprise. Realizing that this was the only way she could move around to look for her family until she had further recuperated, Piper settled into the pirate's strong arms as he began to walk around so that she could look down to see if she recognized any one.
Cole held her so close against his strong chest that Piper could hear his heart beating beneath his muscles, and her own quickened in response. She shook her head weakly, trying to ignore the sound of his heart and the way his arms felt so close around her in such a forbidden embrace, and concentrated instead on making out the bodies that lay on the ground beneath them. Already she had spotted Ororo, Elvira, and Winifred, but she had yet to see any of her family. Silent tears continued to stream down her paled cheeks, and fear that she would not find them shimmered vividly in her brown eyes.
To Be Continued . . .
