Disclaimer: I do not own I am Number Four. This is the property of Pittacus Lore (James Frey and Jobie Hughes)
Healing
"John…" He turned to look at Six with his blue eyes; eyes that share the same color of the sky. A sky that is so clear without any hint of storm clouds or incoming trouble. He has eyes that you can look into and sometimes think you're flying through the air, above the clouds or falling, unable to see how far the inevitable death waiting for you. His face is marred with cuts, bruises and everything in between. A deviously handsome face that shouldn't be bruised, batter or scarred like it was now. He looked broken and tired but those blue eyes held promise, hope and determination to heal the wounds, grow stronger and rise from the ashes to fight back.
"Six." He replied back in a hoarse voice before looking up into her eyes. She possesses hazel eyes that could be mistaken for the rich color of dirt that can gently nurture life. Others say when you look into her eyes, you feel grounded. Those eyes with one glance can pull you from whatever dream you lost yourself in and back to reality, safe or not safe. Her olive tone skin naturally compliments her eyes that soften her sharp distinct features. Her lips were pulled into a straight line, no hints of turning up or down.
"Let me see your face." Six ordered, taking steady steps towards him. Hands, too soft for a girl like her, stroke his face with a gentle touch, also something she shouldn't possess from years of hard training and honing her skills. His eyes fluttered closed, savoring the soft though that he shouldn't savor. She traced every cut, bruise and mark on his handsome face, noting the severity and what needed to be done. "You're fine." She announced before looking at his arm and grimacing at the gash. "Well, you'll live."
"Good to know." He murmured back as she slipped out from her spot between his legs. He instantly missed the warmth that emitted from her slender body. Her hands glanced through the medical kit. It was full of gauzes, medical scissors and tape, band aids and antibiotics ointments, lots and lots of antibiotic ointment. John watched her fiddle with the scissors, rolling them between her hands as she sorted out things out. His through tickled him painfully but he didn't say anything, cherishing the comfortable silence between them.
"How's Sam?" John coughed, finally feeling the effects of the smoke he inhaled. Six glanced up from the kit, biting her lip in concern for the young man, noting how scratchy his voice sound. Crossing the short distance between them, she placed a soothing hand on his back, encouraging him to breath in the clean smoke free air. He frowned at the pain in his throat and shook his head at the cup she held up to his mouth. Six's eyes narrowed and forced the cup against his mouth even harder. When the first drop finally passed his lips, he drank the rest greedily. Ignoring her knowing smile, his thoughts drifted back to what happen a few moments ago.
The attack was sudden. Four Mogadorain soldiers cornered them in the center of town. They were able to lead them away from people into an abandon part of the city. Sam was hit hard, flung across the room against a concrete wall, knocking him out. There was no clear way out. John knew that. Six knew that. Sharing a look between them, John did what he had to do. He ran, drawing attention to himself and leading them deeper into the building. He knows Six will do what's right which was getting Sam out and Logan as backup.
She knew it too but that doesn't make it any easier. It felt wrong, watching him run deeper into the compound with seven feet tall aliens trailing after him, wanting him dead. Turning invisible and getting Sam out was easy, leaving him alone with Bernie as backup that was hard. Possible the hardest thing she's done in a long time. Yes, Bernie is a chimera. Yes, Bernie would most likely die for John. But that doesn't make it easier to turn her back and run away from a fight. But like a good partner, she did what was right.
Logan, for all his smartass remarks and lazy disposition, was reliable when needed. He quickly connected the dots when Six appeared with Sam draped over her shoulders. He placed the unconscious boy in the car and ordered Christ to meet them at the safe house. After Christ drove away with Sam, he took her shaky hands – she never has shaky hands – and promise that John will be fine. She didn't believe him – she was never the trusting type (only with John because of those damn blue eyes).
When they arrived, the place was in flames, a burning inferno that glowed bright like a bonfire. Six didn't hesitate, feeling the familiar sensation of her invisibility cover her and ran through the flames some of the tough firemen wouldn't brave. She prayed to whoever would listen to her, hoping that he's ok. He has to be ok. The sharp smell of gasoline filled her nose. Her eyes burned as she glared through the flames, looking for a hint of the boy. He did this on purpose, Six concluded as she notices drums of empty gas cans. Fire couldn't hurt him. As she kicked a door open and materialized, she met with a sight of John sitting comfortable with four even pile of ashes surrounding him. He opened his blue eyes and stared into her hazel ones before smiling and passing out. Sighing, Six pulled him up and hugged him close, listening to his heartbeat, steady and strong.
"No serious head trauma. Logan is quizzing him on his shapes and colors." Six answered, trying to make a small joke out of the dangerous situation they survived. She gathered her equipment and sat beside John on the bed. It dipped from her slight weight and John turned to look at her. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes. "He's fine." She reassured. "He's built tough for a human." She muttered, waiting for Sam's voice to sound of offended and his words to defend the human race. Uncomfortable silence filled it instead which John willed broke.
"Bernie…" the second syllable was hissed as pain shot up his arm. Six kept a firm grip on his wrist, keeping him from pulling away from the antibiotic soaked cloth. The gash was huge, running from his left arm up to his elbow. She focused on the wounds, deeming he wouldn't need stitches. Pulling the bloody cloth away, she sighed and grabbed a bundle of gauzes to wrap it.
"He's already patched up." Her eyes closing as she remembered his wounds. Bernie found Logan after she disappeared into the building. He was burned, battered but still alive. "A few stitches on his side and a broken leg but he'll live. He has to make sure his idiot master is ok." John smiled at the obvious jab towards him but didn't say anything. He just closed his eyes and focus on her soft fingers against his rough skin.
Six worked in silence, an uncomfortable silence that mad John wants to reach out and shake her. She obviously had harsh words brewing in her throat, waiting to lash out at him. Words about him being a brave fool, words he wanted to hear, to know that she cares for him. Six is always the hardest to read, to understand, to open up. At times, John feels like Logan is the only one out of them all who understands her or at least her emotions because of his stupid legacy. He sometimes envies the older boy for it. But only sometimes.
"Six?" John noticed her fingers stopped touching his heated skin. His opened his eyes and stared at her still form. He couldn't see her face as her bangs covered them. But John could tell she was staring at his gash, his freshly wrapped gash. Her hands gripped the bundles of gauzes tightly, making her knuckles appear white by how tight she was holding it. He studied her slim figure and noticed a slight tremor she was trying to hide. A tremble so slight he almost missed it if he wasn't looking as closely as he was. He heard a soft sniffle from the girl and the dots started to connect. "Look at me," he ordered in a firm voice before reaching out to touch her. She shook head no furiously and John touched her chin. He met no resistance when he tilt her head up and force her to look into his blue eyes. He stared into watery hazel orbs and his heart just cracks.
Six never cries. She's not that type of girl. She's strong both physically and mentally. She doesn't cry like how she doesn't show weakness or emotions but here she is, sitting in front of John, with silent tears streaming down her cheeks and nose slightly running. John, unable to up at her longer, pulled her forward in a comforting hug. Her face was pressed gently against his chest, right over his beating heart. The rhythmic thumping filled her ears; ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.
"I'm alive, Six." He reassured, resting his chin on the top of her head. She buried her face into his chest, surrendering to his warmth, and murmured something John could barely hear. "Repeat that again." He requested, pulling away from her slightly. He barely noticed her arms were securely wrapped around his waist.
"But, for how long?" She asked. The fear was obvious in her voice. The first bit of emotion she shows John in a long time. John couldn't say anything back. They both accepted that their lives could end in an instant. One misstep and they could meet their end. But, instead of saying that, John laid back, pulling her closer to him, savoring the feeling of her soft body against his. Closing his eyes, John focuses on her breathing which was almost in perfect sync with his.
Christ ran his hand through his slowly graying black hair as he looked at Logan, Sam and Bernie. The three boys were all passed out in various positions. Logan was in his arm chair with his head almost falling off his arm. Sam rested on the couch with a bandage wrapped around his head. Bernie was sleeping on top of Sam's belly, rising up and down with each of Sam's breaths. He turned away from the calm monitors to the closed bedroom door. Six should be done with tending to John by now. No harm in checking, Christ thinks as he slowly opens the door to peek in. On the single bed, both John and Six fell asleep. Her head was rested on his chest; their legs entwine together, arms wrapped around one another securely. A peaceful smile was on John's face as he pulled the girl closer unconsciously. Christ smirked before closing the door and starting another cup of black coffee. It's going to be a long night for him as look-out.
A/N: Ok, this is going to be my last update until I finish Power of Six. I'm excited, scared and worried about reading it. Hopefully Six will still be as badass as she appeared in I Am Number Four. Hope everyone liked this one. Reviews please!