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.

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And they wait.

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Access to Cinder's hospital room is granted 6 hours later.

.

.

.

Kai and Thorne sit in her room. They watch her unconscious form in silence.

Her usually tan skin is ashen, even against the white sheets. Her face is slack, eyes closed and mouth slightly open.

She looks dead.

It's such a horrific thought.

"How ya holding up there, your Highness?"

"Thorne. Now isn't the time for jokes. I can barely stand that title on a normal day when my girlfriend wasn't in emergency surgery after I've been forced to watch literal war crimes."

Ah. Yeah. Girlfriend. That's right.

It's not like Thorne had forgotten, but he is always taken aback by the status of their relationship. Not to mention it's weird for an emperor to have a girlfriend.

Kai holds her hand and Throne watches.

Thorne quite literally debates throwing something.

Kai lays his head besides her shoulder. "She's fantastic." He sighs.

The emperor is so morose you'd think Cinder was dead and this was her wake, not her hospital room.

Thorne wants to break something expensive. He's already gotten a bath so his list of needs is pretty short at this point. The most prominent item is destruction of personal property. Preferably royal Lunar keepsakes.

He wants to hold her hand. Boyfriends be damned. He wants to break down crying and demand comfort.

"Hey man. She's also tougher than nails—titanium nails. She's gonna be okay."

Kai looks up, his eyes are wet. He doesn't bother to hide it. "She was stabbed in the heart Carswell. Stabbed. Tell me that's something that can be solved with stubbornness."

"If anyone can recover from pure spite, Cinder is your man."

"Can we play the silence game?"

"I'm trying to make you feel better!"

"Well it's not working!"

They stare at each other.

He says something really stupid. "Oh give me a break. You're not the only person who cares about her."

Kai breathes out a long breath. "Oh."

"Yeah." Thorne says hotly. "She's important to us all."
"But she's important to you."

They sit in a pained silence after that.

"She's gonna make it Kai. She has to." Thorne says quietly.

.

Thorne isn't there when she wakes. He's off checking on Cress. She looks deathly pale in her suspension tank. He wishes there was anything he could do but of course, he's useless. He sits next to the tank and watches. He traces shapes into his knee.

.

When he finally arrives to visit Cinder, he finds her awake. That's about as nice a comment as he can give her.

She stands out on the balcony with her arms crossed tightly and her eyes closed. Her dark hair is unbound and falls across stiff shoulders.

She's in a thin white hospital robe. He swallows thickly. He can see the color of her skin underneath the material.

He clears his throat audibly and she startles from her reverie.

She turns and, when she sees him, straightens. Her arms drop to her sides. He makes a conscious effort to look at her face.

"You're healed?" He asks.

She pauses. There's something in the air between them. It's unspoken but mutual. Like they've chosen to ignore it—whatever it is—like there's a careful script they've agreed on before this to follow.

She breaks the silence, "The scarring on my chest is bad. But," she grimaces and looks away. "But my body has always been screwed up. I've had scars longer than I've had memories." She crosses her arms over her chest again.

He's thankful for the movement. It obscures some of her skin.

He clenches his fists, knuckling his thigh. It smarts.

He imagines kissing her. He knows he can't. Would she taste like the warm herbs she smells of? Would her mouth be soft? The out of reach fantasy taunts him.

He swallows again. "You're not screwed up Cinder."

"Burns and skin grafting really say top notch don't they." She snorts. She can't meet his eyes.

He wants to reach out and touch her; to stroke her cheek. He wants to press his fingers into her skin and confirm the pulse flowing just beneath. He wants to know without a doubt that she is alive.

Thorne knows he must resist. He must. He must.

It's agony itself.

"You are top notch. From your patchwork brain to your metal toes. Everything Cinder, it's all incredible." He says this half teasing but that's only to dull the complement. He wants her to accept it. He needs her to know a shred of the adoration he feels even if it's disguised as a joke.

She lifts her hands to examine them. One flesh and one cyborg. There's a gleam of emotion in her eyes he can't identify.

It's similar to fear. It's too similar to loathing.

"Levana really did a piece of work on me."

"She's left her mark on us all now." He steps forward out into the open air of the balcony.

His hand twitches and he grimaces. It's still a strange sensation to be missing the fingers. The pain is there to remind him.

"I thought you were going to die. I thought Levana was going to kill you." She says.

"I thought I was going to kill you!"

They stare at each other and he can see the terror fresh in her eyes. It's fresh in his own. He can see it all again and he wonders if he's going to have PTSD or something. At least nightmares—that he's certain of.

No tears come for Cinder but he can feel them prickling behind his own eyes. They blur his vision. He blinks and a single drop of water falls.

"I'm so thankful you're alive." He tells her.

He's unprepared for the hug. She throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing.

"I'm thankful you're still here too."

He isn't prepared for the genuineness of her words either.

He'll compromise. This might be even better than a kiss. Maybe.

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and carefully, oh so carefully, hugs her back. Her warmth bleeds into him and sets the middle of his chest aglow. It's such a comforting sensation. He wants to drown in it.


A/N:

I've had this in the drafts for months and was in no hurry to finish it but I got a mysterious burst of creative energy ;)