Rebecca ch 8
Au Note: Someone brought up a very good opinion in a review yesterday, winterprincess, was the person. She said that it didn't seem like the type of thing America would do to let Maxon call her Mer because it would remind her too much of Aspen. I totally support this opinion, because you all are all entitled to one, but I thought I would bring it up because there was something I forgot to put into the AU note at the end of the last chapter. Go and google "deleted scenes from the Selection" and the first thing that should pop up is a link to keira cass' website and those have, well, a deleted scene from the Selection where they talk about nicknames. Read that and you'll know that I made that last chapter with the Mer thing to symbolize America getting over Aspen and onto bigger and better things. Those things being Maxon.
Winterprincess, my dear, I'm not telling you your opinion is wrong because it isn't, its your opinion and the definition of an opinion is something that isn't a fact, it's a statement of what a person thinks. I just wanted to make sure you understood why I out it in there, plus there are some really good Maxerica moments in there . Y'all should check it out.
Without further ado, Rebeca Ch 8, my dearies.
BTW, I'm going to see Catching Fire today, so you'll hear all about it tomorrow, and if not the next day.
I didn't wake up to Lucy on day six of my job at the palace, I woke up to alarms and another maid grabbing my glasses and pulling me toward the door, "What's going on?" I asked.
The maid pushed me into an alcove with other maids, she gave me my glasses as the door closed, assumingly locking us in, "A rebel attack. We'll be safe here."
My first thought was Sam, was he alright, would he make it through? He would be the one to go to the front line, put himself in the line of fire so someone else wouldn't have to. Was he going to be okay? Was he already dead? "Oh, Sam."
The next few hours were full of anxiey, was Lucy okay? America? Prince Maxon? Anne? Mary? Kris? Elise? Sam? Sam? Sam? Sam? My legs shook, I kept looking for the door to open, for Sam to be there, okay, fine, still smiling that ridiculous smile. Where was he now? Had he made it this far into the attack?
Finally, the door opened. A guard that wasn't Sam stood there, my heart screamed,
Every thing is done now girls. Twenty dead, fifty injured, a few already in surgery. Is Rebecca in here?"
"That's me." I said standing up.
He looked me over for a second then said, "America sent me. A guard named Sam was injured, America made sure he was put into surgery first."
I didn't wait for him to finish, I ran and ran and ran, jumping over debris and glass as I went. I bust through the doors of the infirmary.
It didn't take long to find America, she ws leaning over a soldier that had been injured, talking to him quietly, calmly. I ran up to her as the soldier said, "I never ask of something if I have no way of paying it."
"Where is he?" I asked, more liked screamed.
America looked up, "Lower your voice. He's in surgery."
"But, is he going to be okay? How bad was it? When does he get out?"
"Rebecca!" America scolded softly, "These boys have been through enough today, they d not need to see you have a panic attack. You have to be calm. Sam will be out when the surgery is done. I don't know how long that will take. He just has to have a bullet taken out of his side. It isn't llife endangering, it's just painful if it isn't taken out as soon as possible."
That calmed me down a lot. America smiled at me and took a glass of water from the bedside table, "His bed will be the last one on the left, right there. Why don't go and sit in the chair next to it. That way when he wakes up he'll have a friendly face right there."
I sat down like she told me and watched her deal with a guard that needed stitches, but wouldn't let her sew them for him because he didn't have payment. She sighed, too stubborn to leave him alone, but knowing she could be taking care of other soldiers right now. She thought for a second, twirling a bracelet that looked like a button on a string.
The soldier looked at it. He must have realized the same thing I had noticed. It was a button from a gurad's uniform, "What if I gave you another button to add to yours as payment?"
America looked down, obviously not realizing that she had been twirling the lone button, "That sounds like a grand idea."
I watched her stitch him up, get him some water, and move on to the next soldier recvieving a button from him to. It seemed like a cycle, she got a button, the soldier got to be healed. By the end she had twelve buttons on the string.
Sam came out an hour later, pale but smiling. He was alright! He was going to be fine! He would be up in three days.
America and I both left with a smile on or faces.