Hello everyone! Sorry for the late update, but it's here now! ^^
I would like to thank my first two reviewers, I'm-So-Loveable and Akamura! Thanks so much for the feedback! I hope you enjoy the new chapter! XD
Disclaimer: Still got nufin...
~Chapter 3~
Night of Fire
It was night and I couldn't sleep, so I was riding my A-Ts around the city. The night air felt cool on my face as I flew through the air. My hair was tied back in a ponytail, though a few strands had escaped and caressed my face. I wore a white, long-sleeve turtleneck and light jeans. I sighed and jumped from the building I was standing on to reach the ground. Nights I couldn't sleep on were so boring now. Flying wasn't much fun without Spitfire. I looked up and an orange glow atop a building a couple blocks away caught my attention. The building had caught fire.
I don't know why, but for some reason, I was drawn to the fire's glow; as if something was calling out to me. The call itself was weak and pained, but the effect it had on me was strong and powerful. In a matter of seconds, I had scaled the side of the skyscraper and landed on the top. What I saw made me burn with pain.
Surrounded by a circle of flames, bloodied, bruised, and broken, was Spitfire's motionless body. My mind went blank, any thoughts shattering the instant they formed. Pain welled up in my chest and my eyes stung. My voice died in my throat and my skin felt incredibly hot. At first, I thought it was the fire's heat brushing my body, but it felt more like my skin was absorbing the heat.
Though my eyes stayed locked on Spitfire's body, I was dimly aware of two other people standing over him. Well, one of them was in a wheel chair. He rolled over to me, but I hardly noticed. I my heart ached and it felt like fire was pumping through my veins, like it was slowly consuming me.
The man in the wheel chair grabbed my elbow, as if he was about to say something, but as soon as he touched me, he jerked his hand back. I turned to him, face blank, eyes dead. I felt numb; like this wasn't real. Like I was outside my body, watching everything unfold. The skin on his hand was smoking and red as if touching me had burned him. As hot as I felt, it didn't surprise me.
"Sora!" The other man called out to him.
The man in the wheel chair, Sora, waved him off. "I'm fine." He turned back to me, not really sure what to make of me. "Who and what are you?" he asked, awed.
I stared at him blankly. He held my eyes, raising his eyebrows when he noticed the lack of emotion and life in them. I felt the fire in me increase. My hair forced itself free of its tie, whipping wildly at my face and neck. Sora rolled back some.
Looking straight into Sora's eyes, I whispered, "It burns…."
I turned back to Spitfire's body and saw that the flames were closer to consuming him. I don't want that, a voice in my head whispered, make the flames stop. Slowly, I rolled forward on my A-Ts, my eyes locked on the fire. It began to retreat, turning to me instead. By the time I had reached Spitfire's body, the flames were circling me.
The other man regarded me cautiously, as if I would lash out at any moment. I reached my right hand out to him. He backed up as all of the flames jumped to my arm. I looked at him with my dead eyes.
"Why does it burn?" I whispered.
The flames circled my wrist, and clamped down on it. The fire ringing my arm did the same. I drew my hand back and examined my arm. The fire burned into my flesh, but it didn't hurt, it was just extremely hot. The flames on my arm died and I lowered it to my side.
I knelt next to Spitfire and, as gently as possible, I scooped him up into my arms. It was awkward, as he was bigger than me, but I hardly noticed. I stood and turned back to the two men, who were watching me carefully.
I don't know where the words came from. But I said them, loud enough for the men to hear.
"I flame will not die." I said tonelessly.
I saw their eyes widen in surprise, but that was all, because a minute later, I was on the ground again, three blocks away from the building.
~0*0~
I sat in the waiting room at the private Shock and Trauma Center in the city. They had an extremely strict policy of confidentiality, so I knew Spitfire would be safe. I didn't have to worry about newspaper leaks or someone barging into his room that shouldn't be there. I don't really know why something like that bothered me; but at the moment, I didn't really focus on it. My older brother, Theodore, also worked here as one of the head doctors. He was ten years my senior, but despite the age difference we were close.
I sat rail straight, my hands clenched so tightly in my lap that my knuckles were white. I stared at the clock on the opposite wall. I don't know why though, none of it seemed to register. It was almost like time had stopped. I ignored the stares of the others in the room; I knew I looked bad.
I was covered in Spitfire's blood, the dark crimson staining my light clothes, which were burned and torn. My right sleeve was completely shredded, the remaining fabric black and falling apart. My hair was a mess and soot covered my face. My eyes still stung from the smoke, but I had yet to cry. To be honest, I don't even know what happened on that building.
But I didn't care how I looked, even less so than usual. I still felt numb, like this body wasn't mine, like I was seeing through someone else's eyes.
"Sarah."
A soft voice called me and I turned to see my brother. He was about the same height as Spitfire. We had the same eyes and his short hair was a darker brown than mine.
I jerked out of my chair and followed him down the hall, away from the waiting room. He led me to an office I guessed was his. He sat at the desk and motioned for me to sit in the chair across from him. I did so. He didn't say anything, just folded his hands and rested his head on them.
"Theo?" I asked. His eyes held mine and I was suddenly very afraid of what he would say.
He sighed, lowering his hands and sitting up. "It's not good Sarah."
"But you can save him, right? You can help him, right?" I struggled to keep my voice steady. My brother's eyes looked at me, they held pity or sympathy; I don't know which, but I didn't like it.
Theo ran a hand through his hair. "We've managed to stabilize him." He said finally. I released a breath. He shuffled through some papers on his desk reading them over. "He's in some pretty rough shape. Both of his legs are broken and his left hip is fractured. He has four broken ribs, two on each side, though through luck or grace, none of them pierced his lungs. Several of his other ribs are fractured and all of them are bruised." He paused, taking in my expression before continuing. "His left collarbone and wrist are broken. All of the fingers on his right hand are broken and so is his arm. He has a cracked skull, but no internal bleeding as far as we can tell. On top of that he is covered in what appear to be stab wounds, including a deep gash on his forehead. He also has various burns, mostly on his left side and across his chest. At the moment, he appears to be comatose." He stopped and put his papers down.
I stared at him in horror. "Will…will he be okay?" I managed to ask, my voice coming out as a harsh whisper.
"If you had brought him in any later, he wouldn't even have a chance."
"And what exactly are his chances now?" I asked, scared of the answer, but needing to know.
Theo held my eyes for a long time. After what seemed like an eternity, he answered. "There's an eighty percent chance he won't make it." He said softly. I stared at him, eyes wide in shock. My brother walked over to kneel in front of me, gently resting his hands on my knees. "He lost a lot of blood, sis. He has a lot to over come if he--"
"Take mine." I said, interrupting him. A determined spark surged through me.
"What?"
I held out my right arm, ripping off the remains of my sleeve. "Take my blood and give it to him. Don't look at me like that, I've got Type O blood; I can give to who ever the hell I want."
Theo stared at my arm. "Sarah, that burn needs to be treated."
"Treat the burn later, blood now." I knew why he was hesitating. "Now."
"But," He looked at me, noticing the fire in me otherwise dull eyes, and sighed, "….fine."
We got up and he led me to another room. I sat down in a chair, waiting for him to get everything ready. When he was he started moving to my left side. "No. From my right arm."
"Sarah, you have a serious burn--"
"It has to be from my right." I don't know why I was so determined, but it felt right. Spitfire needed the blood from my right arm, the one touched by fire.
He sighed and moved to my other side. "Are you sure?" he asked.
I nodded, turning my head away. I couldn't look at the needle or I'd get queasy. I hated needles; I was absolutely terrified by them. I felt something prick my arm and somehow I managed to keep it relaxed. I bit my lip, trying to think of something else.
~0*0~
Theo had rubbed my arm down with an aloe salve and was currently bandaging it up. The burn would scar, I could tell that much. It ringed around my entire wrist and spread up my arm to my shoulder in a pattern that resembled flames. The pattern was precise and clear. If it wasn't for the blisters and the peeling skin, it could have been a tattoo.
"I want to see him." I said as Theo tied off my bandage.
He frowned. "I don't know if that's a good idea. He just got out of surgery."
"I need to see him." I said more urgently.
I think my brother could tell I was desperate, that I was about to break. He took me by the hand and led me down the hall as if I was a child. He stopped at a room and opened the door. I walked to the bed cautiously, staring.
Spitfire lay in the bed, oxygen mask covering his face. There was a bandage wrapped around forehead and his cheeks were bruised and covered with various, small cuts. But that was all I could see, the rest of his body was covered by a blanket. IV bags hung from stands by his bed, one I recognized as holding my blood. The steady beeping of a heart monitor filled the room. The sound caused a wave of relief to wash over me. He was alive, severely injured, but alive. That was the reassurance I needed.
My hand reached out to grip the blanket covering him. I needed to see what happened to him. I started to pull it aside, but stopped. I was scared of what I might find. Did I really want to know? Would I be able to handle it? My hand started trembling. Suddenly, another hand was placed over mine, gently drawing it away from the blanket. I turned.
Yoko.
"Theo called me." She explained. She wrapped an arm around me, steering me away from the bed. "Let's get you home."
I didn't say anything, my voice had died. My determination from earlier had long faded, along with all of the adrenaline in my system. I felt hollow, like an empty shell. My eyes held no emotion as Theo kissed me goodbye, a worried expression on his face. When we got to the apartment we shared, Yoko made me take a shower. I washed my hair and the soot and blood from my body. Yoko threw away my wrecked clothes and tried to make me eat something, but I pushed everything away, the food making my stomach turn.
Eventually, she gave up and sent me to bed.
~0*0~
The next day, I went to Spitfire's house. I unlocked the door with the key he had given me and stepped inside. His scent hit me and I inhaled deeply, taking it in. I wandered aimlessly, running my fingertips over walls, furniture, books, dishes, everything. Everything here reminded me of him.
When I reached the living room, I saw a picture sitting on one of the shelves against the wall. It was of me and him. We were smiling, his arm slung over my shoulders. I remembered the picture. Yoko had taken it. We had been in the park and she had just popped out of nowhere. She had probably been following us. She must have given Spitfire a copy of the picture after she got the film developed.
I traced the frame, my lips trembling. My hand suddenly drew back to cover my mouth as a sob escaped it. I fell to my knees and, for the first time, I cried. I sobbed, curled into a ball on the floor. I screamed his name, wanting him to come, but knowing he wouldn't. I wished for him to walk through the door and see me. I wanted him to take me in his arms and tell me everything would be okay. For him to wipe away my tears, to stroke my hair, to sooth me. I wanted him to hold me and never let me go. I wanted him to be with me.
I wanted him to love me, like I loved him.
So there you have it!
I made myself really depressed when I wrote this chapter....
More feedback would be nice! Please?
