BluePhantom15: Hey, guys I'm back from the dead. I had to crawl up through dirt and worms to get back here, but I made it. I'm really sorry for the long wait.
Anyways, thank you so much to: Celeste K. Raven, OnceUponATime102, WhiteLupusAlpha, KittlyAbz, Bobby Corwen and all my other guests for reviewing. You guys are more awesome then you know.
Also a special thank you goes out to my big sister, for editing this chapter for me. You rule sis! XD
Hope you guys enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing... yet.
I've always hated the way the world seems to just pass you by, looking out a car window. It's as if you're seeing everything move around you, but you're never really a part of it. It makes you feel isolated, cut off from the world, even as you roll over its soil. I just stared at the glass absent mindedly, my badly bandaged head leaning against the clear surface. Every time we hit a bump, my body would ache.
Just a few more minutes.
Just a few more minutes.
I said the line over and over to myself, praying it was true. I just wanted to lie down in a warm, comfy bed, to rest my head on a pillow before I fell asleep.
We hit another bump. Before I could register anything I let out a groan of pain. My eyesight went blurry for a moment, and all I could make out were the blobs of green and brown passing me by.
I swirled my head to my other side, to notice a body shifting ever so slightly closer to mine. Although my vision didn't allow me to make out the face, I knew it was Henri. I shook my head repeatedly, trying to regain focus. Suddenly large hands grasped either side of my face, abruptly halting my movements.
"Would you stop that?" Henri growled, "You're only making it worse."
I huffed under my breath as I wrenched my head away from his hands, turning back to the window.
"Leave me alone." I commanded, but it came out slurred and meek.
"Goodness, you sound like a whining toddler." He joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. But it had the opposite effect.
"And you sound like a half-assed guardian who won't shut his trap." I spat angrily. Needless to say I wasn't in the best of moods right now.
"I can't shut my trap, because I constantly have to state the obvious for my idiot of a charge." Henri said light heartedly. I had no idea why he was in such a good mood. Maybe he just liked to watch me suffer.
"Can I kill him?" I questioned allowed, not actually sure as to whom I was speaking to.
"Please try not to, I wouldn't want to have to patch up both of you." The man named 'Malcom' said from behind the steering wheel.
"Don't worry, I doubt he could even muster a punch right now." Henri smiled, mockingly.
Seriously, could I kill him? As if to prove him wrong, I managed to lift my non-broken arm into the air, and slap him upside the head...Or at least attempted to. Henri caught my hand mid hit, holding it in place above his head.
He chuckled. "Really, this is how you counteract my theory? How mature."
I snarled, ripping my wrist back and cradling it near my side. I was gonna murder this guy. Normally he didn't get to me this much, but right now I wanted Henri's head on a stick. I tried taking a deep breath, and slumping back onto the hard seat, it wasn't exactly comfortable but it was definitely better than dirt. The car shook again, and I did a little jump in my seat. Putting my hand on my forehead, I gritted my teeth. I didn't know how much longer I could endure this. How far away was this guy's house? I mean I was grateful that he was helping us out, but why couldn't he live any closer? Every meter felt like a kilometer when your skull was about to explode.
I could feel my eyes begin to water, despite my protests. I didn't want to break down. Not here, not now.
Not now.
Suddenly, a cool hand wrapped around the side of my head, and gently tugged it closer. Soon my ear was pressed against something solid, and a soft beating was all I could hear. The rest of my body, was soon pulled closer as well, and I found myself laying against Henri's chest.
"It's okay. Everything's going to be alright. I promise." He whispered kindly.
I clenched my fist as I let a small tear roll down my cheek. The liquid was quickly absorbed by Henri's tattered shirt, and disappeared into the fabric. I thought to retort that Henri was like a giant tissue, but couldn't find the strength. I buried my face in his chest as I let more tears fall. Then with everything I had left, I closed my eyes and drifted off into sleep.
~Protective~Protective~Protective~Protective~Protective~Protective~Protective~Protective~Protective~
"Wake up John, wake up''
A hand was gently shaking me back into consciousness. I blinked slowly, and then blinked again. My unfocused vision was met with a wooden ceiling. It took me a moment to register that I was lying on a bed in someone's house, then to conclude that it was probably Malcom's.
I forced myself into a sitting position on the covers. My hand reached up to my head, to find clean bandages and un-greasy hair. In fact my whole body felt a lot cleaner, lighter even. I then noticed my other arm in a sling against my chest. Looks like a lot had happened while I was out. At least I didn't feel like utter crap anymore.
Wait a minute.
Clean?
How had I gotten clean?
"HENRI!"
"What? What's wrong John?" He asked a little startled, backing away from the bed slightly.
"Please, please, please, tell me you didn't bathe me while I was asleep." I practically pleaded.
Suddenly his face went all serious. "It was the only way to get the blood off."
"HENRI!"
"I'm sorry. It wasn't exactly comfortable for me either. But it was the only way to make sure you wouldn't get any infections." He reasoned.
"I'm going to murder you!" I shouted, grabbing the sole pillow on the bed, and throwing it at his head. It managed to hit him square in the face, but being a pillow it didn't manage to cause him much damage.
"Death by cotton. That would be a terrible way to go." He laughed, picking up the pillow, and walking to the other side of the room.
"Get back here!" I growled.
"Ha, not so dangerous without your weapon of mass destruction are you?" Henri chuckled, swaying the pillow back and forth mockingly.
"Wait till I get my hands on the bed springs." I threatened, eyeing him intently.
"Okay, there's no need to start world war three over this." Henri exclaimed, still fiddling with the pillow.
"Implying that we've already had world war one and two." I smirked.
"Yeah, let's not relive those." Henri agreed.
Despite myself, I let out a small chuckle. It was good to laugh sometimes, regardless of your situation. I learned that a long time ago, growing up in constant danger. After all, laughter was the remedy to cure all ills, or something like that.
"And finally the embodiment of grumpiness laughs. It's about time."
"Shut up." I said, lying back down.
The bed was everything I had hoped it would be, not rocks and dirt. So it was good enough for me. I found my head wasn't throbbing anymore, and my arm didn't feel like I wanted to cut it off either. I just hoped that my ankle was strong enough for me to walk on. Well, no time like the present to find out.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I placed my good foot on the ground. Then slowly, and cautiously, I lowered my bad ankle down, laying my foot flat. I hissed in pain, from bending the joint, but once it was set in place I felt better. Maybe it was too soon to put any weight on it, but at least I could bend it. That was a good sign.
"I think you should lay off walking for now. You might have gotten some rest, but not nearly as much as you need in order to properly heal your wounds." Henri said, eyeing my foot. "Lay back down. I'll get you some water."
Water.
My dry throat was practically begging for it, and I hadn't even noticed until now. I guess that's how out of it I was. In fact, now that I thought about it, when was the last time I ate anything?
"Could I have something to eat too?" I asked Henri before he could leave.
"Yeah, sure. I'll be right back."
Weird. It felt like Henri was avoiding something. Or maybe hiding something, but what? I shook my head. I was over thinking things again, it was probably nothing. Now alone in the room, I could take in the scenery better. I realized just how cluttered it was. All over the walls were articles about incidents, missing people reports and mysterious deaths. There was a small closet on the other side of the room with a mirror hanging on its door.
On the wall next to me was a small window overlooking the forest. This place must have been just on the outskirts of it. Great, more trees to look at, glorious. On the wall adjacent to the bed was a dirty wooden desk. Papers filled it from side to side, probably more articles. I was starting to question what this guy did for a living.
Then something caught my attention. It wasn't big. In fact it was the smallest picture frame I had ever seen. But in the picture I could make out the face of the man, Malcom, and a smaller boy next to him. The boy looked about my age with a few small freckles on either cheek, brown hair, and brown eyes, wearing a green sweater that look three sizes too big for him.
He was smiling, a genuine smile, one arm wrapped around Malcom's back and the other holding a peace sign to the camera. There was a gleam in his eyes that I had never seen before in my life. A gleam of something I couldn't place my finger on. And I wondered if I would look like that if I had grown up human. If maybe, I would have the same gleam in my eyes.
"He's my son."
The sudden voice startled me and I jumped slight off the covers. Malcom was standing in the doorway. He wore faded ripped jeans, and a baggy plain t-shirt. His messy brown hair fell over into his eyes, and he had some stubble across his chin.
"Your son?" I questioned.
"Yes. That picture was taken earlier this year when we went to Minnesota."
"Where is he now?" I don't know why I asked that. Maybe I was hoping that he was here, downstairs.
"With his mother. Me and her don't exactly see eye to eye." He replied, walking over to the desk.
"Oh, I see." I said, but it was more of an under the breath whisper.
"He's a spirited one. Always craving adventure. We would just come back from a trip and he would already be asking where our next one was." He smiled.
I didn't know this kid, but I liked him already. He sounded cool. But I was more of the stay at home alien myself.
"Do you get to see him?" I asked.
"Sometimes. Not nearly as much as I would like to though. But what I do could be a little too dangerous for him." He replied.
You're telling me. That stunt back there with the mogs, crazy. Which reminded me, why did this guy help us? How did he even know about the mogs, and where did he get that whistle thingy? I was about to open my mouth and ask when Henri walked through the door.
"Hey John, I could only find some bread and cheese, so I hope you like sandwiches." Henri said, walking over to the bed, and placing the plate on my lap. He then gave me the water, and I took it with my good hand.
"Thanks." I mumbled, taking a sip of the water.
"Speaking of thanks," Henri said, turning to Malcom, "I can't thank you enough for helping John and me. I really appreciate all the medical care you provided him, as well as giving us a place to stay for the night."
"You're a doctor?" I questioned, looking at Malcom.
"I used to practice it when I was younger." Malcom admitted, but for some reason it didn't look like something he was proud of.
"Thank you." I said.
"You're welcome."
"Malcom, do you mind if I spoke to you downstairs for a moment?" Henri smiled, but it seemed fake.
"Yes, of course."
"John, finish eating then take a nap. You need to get more sleep." That was the last thing Henri said before shutting the door behind him.
When I was sure that Henri had finished his descent downstairs, I placed the water and food on the ground. Taking a deep breath, I lowered myself to the ground and unto my knees. Trying to make as little sound as possible, I crawled to the door and turned the handle carefully, praying the door wouldn't creek as I opened it. Fortunately for me, it didn't.
As I had suspected there was a small hallway, with a stairwell leading down. I made my way over, and started crawling down the stairs. Every step was like a new challenge, and I cursed under my breath at how hard it was. Everything still hurt, and it wasn't making this experience any easier. Finally I was on the last step, and Henri and Malcom came into view. Luckily there was the railing wall between me and them, so they couldn't see me. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on hearing their conversation.
"I'm going to ask you one more time. How do you know about us?" That was Henri's voice.
"I told you! I've met people like you before. I was here the day your airship crashed. I saw the whole thing!"
"What do you think you know about us?" Henri hissed.
"I know you come from a planet called Lorien. I know that those creatures, Mogdorians are hunting you down, trying to eliminate the rest of your race. I just want to help I swear."
"I'm sure you do." Henri said bluntly.
"I'm telling you the truth. I can help you."
"How?"
"Because I think I know what you're looking for."
"What makes you think that we're looking for anything?" Henri questioned.
"Well, I figured why else would you be out in the middle of these woods. You're looking for the box right?"
"What box?"
"The one that the mogs are holding onto so dearly. They found it somewhere near the crash site. They cleared the whole damn place looking for it."
"What did it look like?"
"Umm, it was white, with the crest on the front. It looked like-"
"Like two sparrows with open wings." Henri finished.
"Yeah, that."
"The map..."
My eyes widened. So the mogs did have the map then. I guess that didn't take long.
"The what?" Malcom asked, but Henri shook him off.
"Never mind. It's nothing. And don't tell John about any of this, do you understand?"
"Why not?"
"Because if he knew, he would want to go after it, and get himself killed and I'm not about to let that happen." Henri concluded.
That bastard. So much for guardian support.
BluePhantom15: I'm so sorry again for the long wait. Please forgive me, or don't, but either way don't let that stop you from reviewing! Reviews are like sugar for the soul.