So, this is where the story changes a bit. If you read the first story than you should remember how I switched from the real-life POV to Red's POV. Anywho, this is similar and I thought I'd just clear that up in case anyone was wondering.
I was all of a sudden struck with this need to write the second chapter and then this was born! Should really be doing this essay that's due but, this kind of wound me down for a bit. I needed that.
Anywho, here's chapter two coming faster than expected! Here's to the hope that I get more free-time soon to work on my other stories as well!
My sneakers dig into the ground as I make my way home, the extra weight on my back slowing me down a bit. I grit my teeth as I feel the weight slipping and adjust my hands' positions to grab a better hold on the scrawny legs hanging loosely around me.
What kind of idiot just faints in the middle of a route? Irritation simmers within me as the boy I'm carrying starts to slip down my back again.
'Damn, this is harder than I thought it would be,' I think bitterly. His chin digs deeper into my shoulder with each step I take as he slides down my back, his feet probably almost dragging on the ground. For the umpteenth time I adjust his position on my back with a grunt.
He better be beyond grateful when he wakes up. I didn't have to help him, much less carry him. I glance irritably at his face beside my own and my anger dissipates a bit. He doesn't look so good. His jet black hair clings to his forehead in a cold sweat and his skin seems a lot paler than when I first found him.
'Damn it.'
I quicken my pace to a slow jog than to what you can call an attempt at running, my grip on the boy tightening so I don't drop him.
'If I'm going through all this trouble you better not die on me, loser.'
The nothingness continues to pulse around me. Sometimes squeezing, other times loosening its grip.
I don't know what to think about it. I feel so aware that I'm alone when it closes in on me but, when it recedes, I feel even more alone.
I don't know what to think.
The intervals appear to be getting shorter because I can't even begin to feel alone when the nothingness pulls back then closes in then pulls back all over again.
Why do I care though? The nothingness doesn't care what I think. It just does and is.
I don't matter to anything.
There isn't anything to matter about me.
There isn't anything for me to matter with.
Nothing matters.
The nothingness pulls away again and I feel less lonely. It'll come back.
Here it is again.
There it goes.
Here it is.
There it goes.
"Green, where have you—Oh, my goodness. What happened?"
I shuffle by my sister, who acts more like a mother than anything, and head for the couch. She tags along behind me, bombarding my ears with question upon question that I don't have time to answer each one, which is fine by me.
I crouch in front of the couch and let the boy slide off of my back and onto the cushions. I turn quickly before he can slump over and direct him to lay comfortably enough on the couch. Well, as comfortable as anyone can get on the old sack of fabric. I swear, the thing was manufactured with lumps and bumps all over the place.
Once I step back from him, my sister grabs my shoulder from behind me and whirls me around forcefully.
"Green! What happened?"
I swat her hand away and roll my eyes. "Daisy, does it really matter right now? I found him. Go get some water and food; he's in pretty bad shape."
She glances at the strange black haired boy over my shoulder and her face becomes laced with worry. She turns back to me and bites her bottom lip before asking tentatively, "Shouldn't we bring him to the center? Nurse Joy is good with people as well as pokemon."
I shake my head and turn her around by her shoulders. "No time. Go get that stuff!"
She hesitates before darting to the kitchen and I turn back to the boy. He looks like he'd been running a marathon from how much sweat is soaked through his button-up and matting his hair to his scalp. On the other hand, it looks like he's shivering quite a bit, something I swear he wasn't doing until just now.
Okay, so he's cold but sweating; so, a blanket? Or should I lower the temperature? I run my hands through my hair, spiking my already spiky orange hair even more, and groan in frustration. How am I supposed to help him if I'm clueless?
At that moment, he seems to curl into himself just slightly, as if to contain some body heat, and I nod before sprinting to the hall closet. I pull out the warmest, fluffiest, winter blanket my sister has in stock and rush back into the living room.
Daisy's just coming in as well and she sets a tray of heated leftover soup, a small loaf of bread, and a glass of water on the coffee table. I practically collide into the couch as I trip over the dragging blanket and collapse onto my knees. I quickly shuffle over to the boy and throw the blanket over his still shivering body.
Daisy watches from the table as I tuck the blanket underneath him and adjust it at his neck. She doesn't say anything until I'm done and she motions at the tray.
"So, were you planning on feeding him? I didn't want to say anything but, he's out cold. Are you sure he can eat?"
I didn't really think about it. Getting food was just the first thing that occurred to me when treating someone, it didn't occur to me that he would have to eat it. Could he even in his condition? He hasn't moved since I found him. Would we have to spoon feed him?
I inwardly groaned at the prospect at it; how emasculating. Maybe I can convince Daisy to if it came to that. After a moment I turn to her and shrug. "I don't know if he can now but, water is probably the most important thing, right?"
"Well, he has to be up to drink, too, I would think."
Shit. Why can't I think straight?
"Yeah, right." I pause and think. "Well, he's sweating a storm up over here but he's also shivering like crazy… a wet towel for his head maybe?"
Daisy nods and darts to the kitchen once again. I'd never really dealt with sicknesses, only colds and stuff when Daisy was younger. And even then gramps was usually the one in charge. I sigh and run a hand over my face. If only gramps was home, he'd know what to do but, he's been out on some research expedition in another town for a few days now.
When he left, he told me I was in charge of the house and Daisy but it's not like it was a surprise or anything. I've done it plenty of other times, since I was about eight, and now that I'm fifteen it seems like second nature to take over as the 'man' of the house. But, nothing like this has ever happened.
I sigh and shake my head. Of course I had to pick today to go on an afternoon walk. But then again, if I hadn't, who knows what would've happened to this guy. Maybe I was meant to find him?
I practically snort at my own thought and push the thought away.
Whoever believed in a silly thing like fate?
Warmth.
I feel warm.
When did I start feeling this warmth? Does that mean I was cold before? I must've been because my whole body is enveloped in this new sensation I'd never experienced until now.
It feels strange, alien.
Unreal.
But it also feels nice. It's not like the nothingness; strangling then releasing in a never ending cycle. No, it just holds me and shares its warmth.
I kind of like it.
Ta-Da!
Green being all begrudgingly heroic just struck me as something he would do :P
Side note: I'm taking a more "dramatic" route with the sequel, much like the more serious moments in The Save File is OK, and the plot has changed drastically from my original plan. It's taking a more "fantasy" turn as well considering the first one was real-life more or less and in this one Red is apparently in some sort of "real-life" of his own? Confused? Don't be. Just accept it! It is what it is XD
