"Fire."

Everyone heard the command. It shattered the awful silence; causing every eye to turn in fear to Spacious. His evil smile did little to allay their fears.

The Roman, Anxious, watched nervously. His heart had been aching with guilt for the pain and misery they had brought to these people. As Asterix had nearly reached the gate once more with Picanmix in tow, he had started to think maybe, just maybe, Spacious had truly released the child with no malice intended...But then the Commander had given an almost unspeakable order. From the back of the Roman ranks behind Anxious, several soldiers raised their hidden bows. With no hesitation whatsoever, they pulled back their arms and launched a volley of deadly arrows in a threatening arch toward the blond Gaul and the boy.

"Asterix! Look out!"

Asterix heard Obelix's shout just after the distinct sound of shafts whistling through the air reached his ears. He began to quicken his pace, pushing Picanmix faster, just before a sharp pain slammed into his body. The impact was tremendous, as if he had been hit by a full-grown tree. Only this pain wasn't confined to the perimeter of his skin. This pain reached deep inside, piercing into him with deadly force. He fell to the ground with a loud cry and a gasp, trying weakly to reach a hand to his back where the pain was concentrated. "AGH!"

"ASTERIX!" Obelix had watched with horror as the soldiers had taken aim and fired on his friends. It had almost seemed to him to be in slow motion. He stood in shock as he saw a shaft pierce his friend's back, bringing the little Gaul to his knees. Asterix's cry of pain snapped him out of his stupor, and before Obelix was even fully aware of what he was doing, he was thundering down the parapet steps like a madman. Grabbing an abandoned shield that had been left by the wallside, Obelix threw the gate open and charged outside.

Asterix's vision was blurry with pain. He wasn't sure exactly where he had been hit, but the fiery agony seemed to be all through him. It had to be in his back, but he couldn't reach it. The agony was almost unbearable. It burned in his mind, numbing his thinking. His understanding of what was happening was hazy and jumbled, but one underlying thought screamed at him from the mess of pain and fear in his mind. Protect Picanmix! Even as he stumbled and fell to the ground he had attempted to shield the boy from the oncoming arrows.

Picanmix starred in horror at the arrow protruding from Asterix's back. He was unsure of what he should do. Asterix was in serious pain; blood was soaking into his black tunic, starting to pool beneath him. But even the child knew they couldn't stop out there in the open. Arrows of less skilled archers fell short of the two Gauls, or missed, but one would get lucky eventually. They couldn't stay out in the open. They had to get back into the safety of the village.

And so, the child took a hold of the barely conscious hero and started to try and shift him back toward the gate. Despite his small size, Asterix was surprisingly heavy. Picanmix struggled under his dead weight; his job made all the harder as Asterix refused to release the boy's arm. Even in his injured state, Asterix was more worried about Picanmix than himself. That spoke volumes to Picanmix, who continued to determinedly drag them forward.

A whistling filled their ears, and Picanmix looked up in fear as a well aimed arrow shuttled toward them. It was aimed for Asterix's heart, and there was no way to move out of the way in time. Asterix seemed to notice it too, and shielded Picanmix the best he could as he closed his eyes in anticipation of the incoming shaft.

CHING!

The metal tipped shaft was deflected as something large and round was suddenly thrust in front of them. The sound of the impact rang out loud in the surprised silence that followed. Even the Romans paused in their onslaught.

Blinking in bewilderment and pain, Asterix looked up at the shield that blocked his view of the enemy, and their view of him. His half-opened eyes followed the arm that held it there, coming to rest on a familiar face.

"Obe...Obelix?..."

Obelix had deflected the arrow.

The big Gaul shifted the shield to avert another shaft. His face was set in determination...and intense anger. His eyes gleamed with such hatred that Asterix felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He had never seen Obelix like this. It was actually...frightening...But Asterix's fight with consciousness was quickly being lost, and he simply let himself fall back against his companion; exhausted.

Blocking a few more arrows, Obelix began to lift Picanmix; shifting him so that the boy ended up clinging to his back, leaving his hands free to hold the shield and tend to the injured Gaul. Then he carefully took Asterix into his enormous arm, producing a cry of pain from the little fellow as he picked him up from the dust-covered ground.

Obelix could feel Asterix suddenly go completely limp. The pain of being moved had finally caused him to pass out. Not that wasn't such a bad thing. It meant at least he wouldn't be any more pain for the moment. It made Obelix's moving him easier, both physically and emotionally. Obelix started moving backwards, step by step, using the now dented shield to protect both him and his friends. They were only a few meters from the gate, and Obelix knew that the villagers would meet them there to help him with the other two.

Finally he made it through the gates. Obelix carefully dumped Asterix and Picanmix into the waiting arms of the Gauls, before turning sharply to go back out to face the Romans. To his annoyance, the gates had already been slammed shut. Rounding on Vitalstitistix, he growled in an almost animalistic manner. "Open this door." His voice was low and dangerous. The way he stood, braced and tense, made him look frighteningly hostile.

Vitalstitistix held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Obelix-"

"Open this door!"

Fullautomatix stepped between the wrathful Gaul and his frightened chieftain. The blacksmith was, in truth, terrified. Obelix looked like he might actually pummel him, but Fullautomatix held his ground. "Obelix, listen, you can't go back out there! It's too- Ah!" Obelix had reached out and grabbed his arm, using his limb to roughly shove the blacksmith aside. His shout had been more of surprise than pain, though it had hurt. Obelix didn't know his own strength, and now that strength was powered by anger, making it even stronger.

"Obelix!" Fullautomatix was desperate now, holding his arm as he waited for his muscles to stop aching. "Don't do this!"

The big Gaul ignored him as he headed over to force the gate open himself.

This was bad! Obelix couldn't go out there; not only because the Romans might shoot him, but because Fullautomatix was suddenly afraid of what Obelix might do. Not that the blacksmith wasn't feeling anger toward the Romans himself; they had no right to do what they had done. But he didn't want the big Gaul to do something that would come back to haunt him later. "What about Panacea?!" the blacksmith found himself shouting.

Obelix paused, hand frozen in a pose to break down the gate.

The blacksmith took his chance and continued. "If you go out there, the Romans will kill her!" His voice took on a pleading tone. "And what about Asterix?! He needs help! He didn't just get shot saving Picanmix so that you could go and get yourself killed!"

Obelix still stood facing the gate; his back to the villagers. They all watched anxiously, praying he would listen. Praying he wouldn't go out there again. The big Gaul's hands were balled into fists at his sides, quivering with barely contained rage. They had no idea what was going through his mind right now.

Obelix wasn't even sure. He felt so...so...so hot. Like he had a fever. Like he was burning up on the inside. He could almost feel the waves of fury coming off of him, warming his skin and blurring his vision. His mind was numb of all emotion...except anger. That he could feel. He wanted to run out there and smash that monster; that smirking demon of a man! He needed to pay for what he had done! For hurting Cacofonix and Asterix...For hurting all of them! He'd send them all packing, and he didn't care what it might take to do so. Even if he had to-

"Obelix...please?" The plea came from Picanmix, who stood by his mother, watching anxiously. Even the child could see the foolishness of rushing back outside. They were all back where it was safe, why go back out?

There was a long silence as the boy's words hovered undisturbed in the tense atmosphere. Nobody moved, except for Impedimenta and some of the other women who were trying to stop the flow of blood coming from the unconscious Asterix's wound.

Suddenly Obelix turned, smashing his fist into a wooden cart that sat by the wallside. The villagers gasped and flinched back at the unexpected and unusually violent action. The cart was crushed beneath the angry blow, cracking and splintering like a dry twig. Such a punch would have shattered the hand of any other man, but Obelix wasn't even bruised.

Dogmatix gave a startled whine and backed away from his master in fear. The emotions he was sensing were frightening to the pup. The big Gaul was currently very dangerous in this strange state, and even Dogmatix knew that he could not comfort this pain. It was too strong.

Without another word, Obelix stomped forward, picked Asterix up with surprising gentleness, and headed in the direction of Getafix's hut as fast as his large frame permitted.

After a stunned silence, the villagers followed...at a distance.

...

At first, Spacious had been furious. The plan had been to kill Asterix, not wound him. Now he had lost the child, a valuable bargaining chip, and hadn't gained a thing.

There were a few benefits, he supposed though. Asterix was injured. That would keep the little nuisance out of his way for a while. On the other hand, there was no way of knowing how badly Asterix had been hurt. For all the Commander knew, he could be perfectly fine. No, no. Spacious had seen the arrow hit its mark. Right in the back. If Asterix wasn't dying, he was definitely in very bad shape.

Spacious smirked to himself as he and his men made it back toward their camp in the forest.

The Gauls must be low on resources by this point. If Asterix's wound was as serious as it had looked, they would be helpless to save their friend. No one could recover from such an injury without proper medication. And with the Gaul's druid having little to no potions at the moment, the likelihood of Asterix surviving was greatly reduced.

And that brightened Spacious's mood considerably.

...

Bam! "Getafix!"

The druid turned from his conversation with Cacofonix as the door of his cottage was nearly thrown off its hinges. "Obelix, how many times have I told you to kno-" He broke off suddenly as his eyes fell on the limp form of Asterix clutched in a very pale Obelix's arms. "By Toutatis! What happened?!" He ran forward as Cacofonix carefully slid off the bed to make way for the new patient.

Getafix started to help Obelix set the injured Gaul onto the bed, but gasped when he spotted the arrow in Asterix's back. "Oh, no..."

In his anger and haste, Obelix had not noticed the shaft buried between his friend's shoulder blades. Finding the object frighteningly disturbing the way it was, he reached forward to try and pull it out. But Getafix stopped him.

"No! Don't touch it!" he cried, jerking the large Gaul's hand away from the arrow. He saw the fear flash in Obelix's eyes, and regretted his harsh command. "We shouldn't remove it until after we've made sure it isn't...lodged in anything important,'' he added, more softly.

The thought made Obelix feel sick.

"We don't want to hurt him more. Do you understand, Obelix?" The druid was relieved when the biggest Gaul nodded. "Good. Now help me lie him on his side so I can get a better look at the wound."

Carefully, they positioned Asterix on his right side. Obelix kept his hand against his friend's shoulder, to keep him from rolling over onto the arrow; but also to comfort himself. Asterix was his best friend. They did everything together. They were even born on the same day. Obelix firmly held on, as if he was afraid to let go, lest Asterix slip away from them forever.

Getafix carefully sat on the edge of the cot behind his injured friend. He raised his eyes to Obelix from beneath his bushy, white eyebrows. He took out a knife, explaining to the big Gaul what he planned to do. "I have to get his shirt off him. We can't just pull it over his head. I'm going to have to cut it loose. Alright?"

Again Obelix nodded. Getafix started to carefully remove the black fabric.

Fullautomatix and Unhygenix, who, along with the rest of the villagers, were standing in and around the doorway, flinched as a unpleasant memory surged to the front of their minds. Getafix had had to perform a similar procedure when Cacofonix had been injured in the fire. Luckily though, with Asterix the fabric had not been fused into his skin like it had with the bard, making it fairly easy to cut the material away.

Once the wound was fully visible, the druid set the blade to the side and leaned in to get a closer look. As he surveyed the damage he took in Asterix's overall appearance. The little Gaul was white as a sheet; the color having drained out of him, as was the dreadfully bright flow of blood that trickled down his back. His breathing was labored, and shallow, but at least he was breathing.

The shaft itself looked terribly menacing; protruding from between Asterix's shoulder blades. In all rights, Getafix fearfully realized, it should have killed him instantly. But here Asterix was, unconscious, but still alive. Not that the druid was disappointed. Asterix was very special to Getafix...Asterix was special to everyone. To lose him like this would be...would be just too terrible to imagine...

But Asterix wasn't dead yet. And if Getafix had anything to do with it, he'd survive this. The only question was how Asterix was still alive? How could the arrow hit him in the back without hitting something vital, like his lungs or his heart?

Then the druid noticed something odd. Something he nor anyone else had seemed to have noticed before. They had been to occupied with the injury on the Gaul's back to discover the growing red blotch on the front of Asterix's shoulder. Curious, Getafix ran his hand softly over the discolored area. Relief flooded his features as his hand gently snagged against something sharp. It was a miracle! There was no other way to describe it. Then the druid did something that surprised the others.

He laughed.

It was a shaky, nervous laugh. Like the kind when you realize just how close you had come from stepping off a fifty foot cliff while taking a stroll in the forest at night. Like they had somehow just barely avoided some horrible catastrophe. Getafix sat back against the backboard, running a shaky hand down his bearded face.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Unhygenix asked. The possibility that the druid was cracking under the pressure of the past few days was not far fetched. "Is Asterix going to-"

"He's going to be fine," Getafix cut in, releasing another odd chuckle. "He's going to be just fine."

Obelix looked down at his bleeding friend with skepticism. "Are you sure, Getafix? But what about th-"

"The arrow didn't hit anything. It hit at an angle, see?" The druid leaned forward again, indicating the wound on Asterix's upper arm. "It went in his back and up through his shoulder. It didn't hit anything but muscle."

Obelix looked up at Getafix, eyes wide with hope. "You mean...you mean, he's not going to die?"

The druid's face became more serious. "Well, he's still in danger of infection, and not to mention blood loss; but I think he'll pull through."

Vitalstitistix came closer, taking a tentative peek at the amount of blood that had soaked into the sheets of the cot. "Shouldn't we...ah...you know, patch him up? Before he looses any more...ah, blood?"

Getafix nodded. "Yes, indeed. But first we must remove the arrow." Again he ran his hand gently over Asterix's shoulder. "The barb of the shaft almost exited here, that's why his arm's bleeding. It didn't quite come all the way through, but it being so close to the surface will make extracting it a little easier." He shifted so that he was sitting a little straighter over Asterix. "Obelix, I'll need you to hold Asterix still." The druid glanced at the villagers gathered in his doorway and open window. "Vitalstitistix, it might be wise for the women and children to leave. In fact, it'd be better if only a few stayed to help."

The chieftain paled, but nodded. He gestured for the people to disperse. "Go home and rest. We'll keep you all informed on Asterix's condition."

A moment later, most of the population had left. The only ones who remained was Unhygenix, Fullautomatix, and Vitalstitistix. They felt it was their duty to stay and help, even if it wasn't exactly...comfortable.

Vitalstitistix stepped forward. "What can we do to help, Getafix?"

"I'll need you three to fetch clean water, some material for bandages, and a cloth for cleansing the wound. Obelix and I will handle the arrow."

The three Gauls nodded and swiftly left for the requested items. Cacofonix, who had also remained, sitting in the corner, watched nervously.

Getafix motioned for Obelix to hold Asterix down. "Grip him firmly, Obelix. He's probably going to squirm when I push the arrow through."

"Push it through?!"

The druid sighed. "Obelix, it's the only way to get it out of him. We can't pull it out the way it went in; the barb would cause even more damage. If I can push it through, I can snap the shaft, and then we can safely pull it out."

Obelix felt sick. But if that was what had to be done to save Asterix, he'd do it. Gripping his friend's body firmly, but not too tightly, Obelix gave Getafix a resolute acknowledgement.

The druid took a deep, steadying breath and took hold of the shaft in Asterix's back. He closed his eyes and then gave a sharp, sudden push.

"AGH!"

The shriek was accompanied by Asterix trying to roll off the bed, kicking and flailing in an attempt to get away. He was still partially unconscious, but after a moment he became limp, the pain having plunged him into senselessness once again. But those few moments had been sufficient to properly startle all present.

Cacofonix had gone even paler, if that was at all possible. He gripped the fabric of his tunic in his fists as he stared wide-eyed. Getafix too had become frighteningly white. However, it was Obelix who looked the most affected. He had managed to keep Asterix pressed against the bed, despite his writhing, but his hands now shook with...with...he didn't know what. Fear? Anger? He was upset; that was for sure. But the arrow's barbed tip was through. It now protruded from the front of Asterix's shoulder.

Getafix inhaled shakily. "Alright, here we go." He again took the shaft in his hands. To tell the truth, he hadn't been expecting Asterix to scream. That had shaken him right to his core. Now all he had to do was snap the arrow and pull it out. But he hesitated. He didn't want to hurt his friend again. He didn't want to ever hear a shriek like that again. Not from Asterix; not from anybody.

But Asterix was losing blood fast, and that was bad. They had to get this over with. The faster the better. Closing his eyes again, the druid bent the shaft.

SNAP!

He sighed when Asterix didn't respond in any way. The little Gaul was out cold this time. Too deep within his unconsciousness to feel anything. As quickly as he could, Getafix withdrew the arrow, slipping it out of his friend without any trouble, just as Vitalstitistix, Fullautomatix, and Unhygenix returned with the things he had asked for.

Together they managed to clean the wound, and wrap it securely. Asterix still looked terrible, but his breathing had evened out, and didn't sound quite so shallow.

As they finished, Getafix noticed that Fullautomatix was holding his arm at an odd angle. Stepping forward, he reached out to inspect it. "What happened?" he asked, gesturing to the limb.

Obelix raised his head, watching guiltily when he too noticed the stiff way Fullautomatix was holding himself.

"Oh, ah," the blacksmith stuttered, looking down at his aching arm. "It's nothing. Just a pulled muscle I guess."

"Let me see it."

"Oh...er..." But before he could pull back, Getafix was inspecting his shoulder and wrist carefully.

"Hmm. Yes, it does appear to be a pulled muscle." The druid didn't notice Obelix's face fill with even more guilt. "I can give you a sling if you'd like?"

Fullautomatix shook his head with a smile. He sent a forgiving glance to Obelix over the druid's shoulder. "No, it's alright. It was an accident...Everything's alright now." Obelix returned the blacksmith's gaze with a thankful smile of his own; glad that Fullautomatix didn't have any hurt feelings toward him after his burst of aggression earlier. Obelix was just happy Asterix was alive. He was alright. He would live.

But what would happen now?

...

I did it! Whoohoo! Two full chapters in two days! It wasn't easy, but I managed to get all my studying for the weekend finished so that I could write and post again. Make up for the interval between chapters before. Hope you like it! :)