Okay, so it's been a while. There is a small story behidn the posting of this chapter, so if you want to know about ti read on: I'm leaving for camp tomorrow, and I've been complaining cos obviously I have no internet at camp. And then tonight, I thought, hang on, why does it amtter if I have no internet, it isn't exactly like I've been madly posting stories lately. That led to me feeling guilty, which led to me writing this.
By the way, this story has been majorly compressedm so now there are only two more chapters to go. Sorry, but it so hasn;t been working, and I keep getting all these new story idea but what with this being unfinished and Missing Pieces and Forever And A Day, I feel liek i just can't strat ANOTHER story until I fifnish a few of these.
Discaimer: So not mine. Ha, I wish!
"She has two arms to hold me, four legs to wrap around me..."
This mission was dangerous, that much we had all known. But this dangerous? I, for one, hadn't thought that it would come to this.
I waited impatiently in the small room that we'd agreed to meet up in. On the ground, a wolf, Cassie, sat. Her muzzle was bloody and one of her claws still had a piece of flesh hanging from it. I'd noticed this some time ago, but didn't have the heart to point it out. After all the death and destruction that we'd already been through, there was no need to put Cassie through more torment.
Of all of us, she hated death the most. She hated having to kill. She hated having those, terrible, ruthless animal instinct. Instincts that told you to pounce and sink your teeth or claws or talons into another living creature. My instincts.
Of course, she didn't object to what I did. She understood perfectly well that, as a hawk, I needed to kill to eat. I needed to sink my talons into those rats and mice and shrews. It was just a way of life for me.
If it had been a bit of flesh hanging off my claw, someone would have told me.
Rachel would have laughed. Marco would have made some joke about using cutlery. Jake would have stayed silent, having that guilty, 'it's my fault that Tobias is like that' expression on his face. Cassie might have cringed and looked away. I think Ax would have been the one to point it out. He was good like that. Sort of devoid of all those human emotions. It wasn't that he couldn't feel, he just chose not to a lot of the time. Maybe that's what being trained for war does – it stops you feeling.
Sometimes I wish that that'd happened to us.
I wish that, as Cassie and I waited for the others to come, silently praying that they would come, we hadn't been able to feel all that. That nervousness. That jittering, rushed feeling that makes your heat beat faster and sweat break out on your palms (or not, in my case). Impatience. Tension. Anticipation. And, of course, wondering whether or not all of this waiting is really worth it. Wondering if, really, all the others have been captured and that Hork Bajir are about to burst into the room and drag us to the Yeerk Pool too.
Fear.
Fear is a big feeling when you're in a war. I don't think it's possible to train someone not to fear. For me at least, fear is always there. Sometimes it isn't as strong and dominant as the other emotions – the hope or the happiness or the anger – but it's definitely always there. Just below the surface, threatening to engulf you the moment you let your guard down.
But, a lot of the time, I'm amazingly glad that my emotions weren't trained out of me. Because the moment that the door opens, and a couple of spiders scurry in, a dog and an andalite following them, I feel the best feelings that are possible for anyone to feel.
Love.
Hope.
Joy.
I flutter down off my perch and begin morphing. I know what I want to be right now. Who I want to be. One of the spiders starts changing too, getting bigger.
The dog stumbles over to Cassie, and for the first time I notice that one of its legs has been badly slashed. Poor Jake – that one must have hurt. Cassie whines in concern and walks over to him. They share a look, just a look, and you can tell that they love each other. A dog and wolf, a boy and girl, it's no different. Love is the same no matter what.
I'm almost fully human now, just covered in a faint pattern of feathers. Rachel is still halfway through her morph. I don't care that she's still part-spider. In my eyes she's beautiful.
Her face appears, and her stunning, long blonde hair sprouts out of her head.
She's already running towards me as a pair of spider-legs disappear into her sides.
Her expression is relieved and confident.
I don't care that all the others can see us. I don't care that she still has an extra pair of legs protruding from her hips. All I care about is her – here, now, whole and still as amazing as ever.
I grab her in my arms, and my lips find hers.
We kiss, long deep and loving. I hold her to me, as close as she can possibly be. Her legs wrap around me, and I barely notice the extra pair of spider-legs holding me close. My hands are in her soft, silky hair, threading through the strands as if trying to grip every one of them. Her hands wrap around my neck, holding her off the ground as she grips my shoulders tightly.
Eventually we both pull back, and I plaster soft kisses on her face – her cheeks and forehead and chin. She is panting, but I don't know if it's from the kissing or the morphing. The last remaining pair of legs dissolves as I pull her to me again.
Everyone else, everything else disappears. It doesn't matter. Not when I'm with her, holding her tight in my arms. I know with a startling level of certainly that this is what I want. She is what I want. For now, and forever.
Rachel. Extra legs and all.
I kiss her harder, wishing this moment could never end, wishing that I could feel this instead of the constant fear, yet knowing that the fear was all worthwhile nonetheless.
No amount of training could rid of these feelings.
And no amount of war could make me want to stop feeling.
Rachel and I finally separate, and Marco shoots us an evil grin. Rachel glares, daring him to say something.
"Hey," he begins, smirking, "Cassie was eating without cutlery!"
Urgh, I could NOT think of a good joke. It was either going to be something about eating Rachel's face or about Cassie needing cutlery, but neither of the jokes were any good. As an excuse, I'm going to use the tired and stressed reason. Cos i really am tired (even though it's only 10 o'clock and stressed (still awaiting the results for my history and english exams).