Bad Things Happen Bingo

Malgus had escaped yet again. Xaja felt the bite of failure in her objective to stop the rogue Sith, as much as she felt the pressure of stone blocks pinning her to the ground. The bombardment of Naga Sadow's fortress had been an unwelcome addition to her efforts to stop Malgus, Jadus, and the Hidden Chain.

Malgus was gone. Jadus had escaped. And the Hidden Chain… well, at least one objective had been accomplished, even if at the cost of Shae's life. Heta Kol would never be a problem again.

Swearing under her breath, Xaja tried to use the Force to lift the stone block she was trapped under. She was lucky that she hadn't been crushed; the ceiling block was held up by other rubble, trapping the Jedi in a space small enough that she couldn't move more than a few inches. She bit back her panic at being in a tight, dark, enclosed space, and struggled to lift the block over her again.

But even with the Force, it was too heavy, and she couldn't budge it a centimetre. Trying to not think about how much air she had left in her little tomb, Xaja slumped back on the ground and reached out with the Force. Her mind cast out, looking for friendly signatures. Jekiah and Rass must have escaped, potentially with Shae's body – she couldn't sense either Mandalorian nearby, and didn't want to entertain the thought of either man dying. For a moment, she couldn't sense her brothers, or Theron, or Lana, and that made the panic come back in force. If they'd been killed by the Republic's bombardment of the site –

No, wait. She could feel familiar presences approaching, and recognised the grey bond in her mind that connected her to Lana. Her Sith advisor had survived and was on her way – she must have received the distress signal Xaja had sent over comms. The Jedi relaxed slightly, looking up in the pitch-black darkness of her rubble pile. Help was coming.

Dust suddenly fell onto her face, making her nose twitch. She grimaced, then suddenly felt fresh air on her face as one of the blocks on top of her was removed. “Xaja!” she heard Theron's frantic voice shout. “Come on, don't do this to me…”

“I'm here!” Xaja shouted back, coughing as she inhaled a lungful of dust. She started squirming, trying to get free of the rubble.

Another block was lifted away with the Force; footsteps approached at a run; and Theron appeared in Xaja's line of vision. He looked dusty and weary, with a new blaster burn in his jacket and a nasty scrape under his right eye. But he seemed hale as he dropped to his knees beside Xaja and all but hauled her upright. “I've got you,” he whispered as he held her closely. “You're safe now. Force, how bad are you hurt?”

Xaja managed to throw her arm around Theron's neck, her other hand reaching to grab his jacket. “Bruises and a headache,” she answered. Jadus’ mind trap had been migraine-inducing. “And I just hurt everywhere. Are you okay?”

“Fine. I'm fine.” Theron squeezed Xaja a little tighter, loosening his grip only when she hissed in discomfort. “Think you've got more than ‘bruises and a headache’ going on... Lana!”

Another piece of rubble was picked up and set away. “One moment,” Lana answered as she picked her way up to the newly-freed Jedi. Molten gold eyes scanned the smaller woman's body as their owner frowned. “You're lucky you're not dead, Xaja,” she said as she reached out with the Force. “Cracked ribs, fractured shin, concussion…”

“Oh.” Xaja made a face as she felt Lana healing her. “We've got bigger problems than my non-lethal injuries. Jadus and Malgus both escaped, Malgus was able to activate Nul's machine, and Shae… she's dead. So is Heta Kol.”

“We knew about Shae,” Lana quietly said as she and Theron helped Xaja to her feet. “Rass reached us on the comms.”

“And Rava is a dead man for bombarding us,” Theron muttered. He pulled Xaja's arm over his shoulders and wrapped his own arm around her waist. “Can you walk if I help you?”

Xaja nodded and let Theron help her out of the rubble. “When we find Malgus,” she muttered, “I'm going to–” She hissed as she put her weight on her right leg. Apparently that was the leg she'd broken, and was still tender from Lana's healing. “I'm going to make him wish he'd been eaten by something big and scary. And when we find Jadus, I'm going to let my dad skin him alive.”

Time was short, and Lana knew it. Casting a glance behind her, she strode up to the carbonite-frozen victim on Arcann's trophy wall, feeling the weight of a modified dart pistol in her hand. She trusted T7-01 to keep an eye on the corridor outside this chamber, but she was still anxious. If a Skytrooper patrol happened to come down here right now, or a Zakuulan officer, or (Force help her) Vaylin or Arcann themselves…

No. This will work. Any other outcome was not acceptable.

Lana tapped in a code on the side of the carbonite slab that was Xaja Taerich's frozen tomb and stood back. The data that Cipher Nine and Theron had found weighed heavily on her mind – the Zakuulans had botched the freezing process when they'd taken Xaja captive. Hopefully the Jedi was still alive in the carbonite.

“Don't try to move,” she said, her voice calm and soothing despite her concern, as the grey metal started to melt. If Xaja was alive and regaining consciousness, she would be disoriented and possibly on the verge of panic – perhaps Lana’s familiar voice would keep her calm. “You're dying.” She raised her hand with the dart pistol, taking aim like Theron had taught her. “I may have your cure,” she added as she got a glimpse of pale skin and red hair amidst the melting grey carbonite, “but I'm not going to lie – this will hurt.” She fired, and the dart of precious medicine shot into Xaja's newly-exposed shoulder.

The carbonite melted enough for the Jedi to fall to her hands and knees on the durasteel floor with a groan – she was clearly in pain, but she was alive and breathing! This rescue was off to a good start. Feeling a small, tense smile on her lips, Lana set down the pistol. “That wasn't quite so bad, was it?” she added, watching the smaller woman writhe through her pain.

Xaja raised her head at Lana's voice, green eyes (clouded with pain, but alert) honing in on the Sith. “Wha… who are you? Where are we?”

The smile fell from Lana's face. “You don't remember me? Blast it… you must be suffering carbonite freezing side effects.” Oh, this was a complication to her rescue effort. “What is the last thing that you remember? We're currently on Zakuul.”

“Za… what?” Xaja shook her head, then studied Lana as she unsteadily got back to her feet. “Your accent… you're a Sith…” She reached a hand for her belt, seeking the lightsabers currently on Lana's person as fear and anger made themselves visible in her eyes.

“I am,” Lana answered after a moment of hesitation, grateful that she held Xaja’s weapons herself. “But I am not your enemy, Xaja Taerich.”

Xaja's eyes narrowed. “How the hells do you know my name?”

“At one point, we were allies… dare I say friends, of a sort.” Lana felt herself paling. “Do you not remember anything? Rishi, Yavin Four, Manaan? The Revanites? Ziost?”

Shaking her head, Xaja straightened up, still holding a hand to her stomach as though she was nauseous. “Trust a Sith to tell lies,” she spat out. “I would never be friends or allies with one of you!”

Lana = telling truth, Teeseven beeped from the doorway. Republic + Empire = temporary truce on Yavin Four with Revanite crisis. Master Satele + Darth Marr = leaders.

“Teeseven!” Xaja sagged in relief. At least she recognised her astromech droid. “What's going on? Where's Master Orgus?”

She's asking for her master? The mentor who died a decade ago? Lana felt dread close in around her heart. How much of Xaja’s memory was gone? “He…”

The droid whistled sadly. Master Orgus = died years ago. Xaja = Jedi Master + Republic hero. Xaja =/= remember?

“... Master Orgus is dead?” Xaja, already pale in the dim light, went a shade more white. “That can't be… how did he die?”

Master Orgus = killed by Darth Angral. Xaja = destroyed Angral + saved Tython.

“Angral?” Xaja frowned, then looked sharply back at Lana. “Was he your master, Sith? Are you here for revenge?”

“I never met Darth Angral,” Lana truthfully answered. “I know you have a million questions, but we don't have time to restore your memory of the last decade. Do you still remember how to use these?” She reached for the back of her belt, unclipping Xaja's lightsabers and handing them over.

Xaja hesitated, looking at the weapons. “Those aren't mine…”

“You lost your first two weapons in Imperial captivity – which I had nothing to do with, and I'm trying to keep you safe from,” Lana answered. “These used to be your mother's before your father got them to you. Now come – I promised him that I would get you out of here, or die trying.” She sighed when Xaja continued to hesitate. “They aren't Sith lightsabers – the crystals are blue. Test them if you don't believe me.”

With hands that trembled, Xaja accepted the lightsabers, igniting one as she studied the hilt and cobalt-blue blade. “... They do feel right,” she finally admitted. “The crystals feel… familiar.” She deactivated the weapon and stashed both hilts on her belt. “Do you have a name? Teeseven called you Lana?”

“Lana Beniko,” the Sith answered with a nod. “I'll answer as many of your questions as I can, but we need to move before the alarm is raised. The man who held you prisoner here will not be pleased with your escape.” She started walking backwards toward the corridor door, keeping an eye on the wary Jedi.

Xaja finally seemed to decide that she had no better options besides trusting the Sith, and fell into step with Lana. Her footsteps felt uncertain, and she still looked pale and ill, but she was alive and physically as hale as one could hope for. “Where do we go from here?”

“I have a friend waiting with a shuttle to get us offworld,” Lana answered. “From there, we rendezvous with at least one of your brothers and figure out the next stage of our plan–”

There’s only about a million banks in the area of the Barbican, and these guys have gone and chosen his bank. 

Of course. 

There’s a second, and River sneers at himself for the thought even as he cannot stop it, where he wonders if they’re here because of him. 

It’s not totally implausible, okay? He is an MI5 agent. They could, somehow, be after him. 

But then they’re very clearly not. 

There’s five of them, masked and with guns, and River is herded, along with everyone else in the lobby, into a corner. No one gives him a second glance. 

He’s glad. Or should be. 

No reasonable person would want to be the target of five people with guns. 

Still. Some fucked-up, danger-seeking, self-centred part of him had almost hoped they’d single him out. 

But they don’t. And so he watches, listens, and commits to memory the details as the gang bark orders at the tellers, lock the doors, wave their guns about. 

And then there is a problem. 

One of the tellers, a younger man who, if River had to guess, is experiencing his first bank robbery, tries to explain something. It’s clearly something unpleasant for the robbers, because one of them shoots through the plexiglass barrier, grabs him by the hair, and slams his head into the desk with an amount of force that will, as River knows from experience, leave him with a nasty bruise and an almost certain concussion. 

This sparks a chain reaction. The people around him begin to shriek and writhe, and River starts talking without even really being aware of what he’s saying, just trying to placate, to minimise the damage, to help. 

He’s sort of standing, his arms spread out, and then a bullet whizzes by, centimetres from his ear, and there’s more shrieking and movement but River’s only sort of aware of it because he’s on the ground and his ears are ringing and his head is spinning and there’s a phantom pain in his wrist and in his joints like he’s still in the back of that fucking car, and–

A boot, steel-toed judging by the feel of it, slams into his torso. Its owner says something to him, but River’s too busy curling up into himself in pain to hear what is being said, let alone respond properly. 

He’s kicked again, this time in the arms now protecting his stomach, and he shouts in pain, tries to roll away, but the boot just returns, kicks him in the back, and there are voices all around him, panicked, pleading, and he somehow realises what is expected of him. 

He rolls over, slowly, painfully, and looks up into the eyes of the masked figure who’d kicked him. They’re sort of blurry–so is everything else, actually–but if he focuses very, very hard, he can hear something that sounds like a warning, sounds like a promise of more pain unless he does not do anything else again. 

He doesn’t think he’d have the strength for it, anyway. 

And so he nods, the side of his face sticking uncomfortably to the tiles beneath him. The figure winds up for what River can just sort of instinctively tell will be a final kick. He braces himself, but is not quite prepared for the force of it, which makes him see stars. 

He shuts his eyes against them, and does not move a muscle. 

He does not know how long he lies there. He’s fully conscious, though he’d rather not be, but lacks the ability to fully pay attention to his surroundings. This is bad, he should be gathering as much information as possible for later, when this is all over, when such information is needed, but he can’t. 

Some spy he is. 

There’s a burst of gunfire. Shouting. Screaming. The sound of boots against tile, which makes him curl into himself even further. 

And then–lights and sirens. Radio chatter. Sounds of relief. 

River raises his head from the floor, confirms that everyone is, in fact, safe, and then wills his body up from the floor as well. 

A paramedic tries to stop him leaving. River brushes her off and runs right into a cop, who says something about a witness statement. River shows him his MI5 credentials, makes a claim about an urgent situation, promises to come by a station later, and once again waves off the suggestion of medical help. 

He nearly collapses about five times on the very short walk to Slough House. But he doesn’t, which is what actually matters. 

It’s still lunchtime (and he really doesn’t see how that’s possible, when he’d surely been in that bank for hours on end), and the place is mercifully empty. 

Except the kitchen, the location of Slough House’s one and only icepack and its several bags of frozen vegetables. 

Shirley’s sitting at the table, building something out of horribly mutilated paperclips. She glances up when River walks in, then looks back down at her creation, then looks back up and stares. 

“Fucking hell,” she mutters, which, yeah. Not helpful. “What happened to you?”

River ignores her, beelining for the freezer. He retrieves the icepack and enough frozen vegetables to feed a family of four, then sinks into a chair with absolutely no noise of pain whatsoever. Definitely not.

And then his back makes contact with the wood, and he yelps. Really no hiding that one.

Shirley abandons the paperclips and raises her eyebrows at him. 

“Seriously, what the fuck happened to you?”

River settles for sitting straight upright, so that as little of his body as possible is touching the chair. He tucks his various frozen items beneath his shirt and into the hem of his trousers, wincing at the shock of the cold. 

“Bank robbery,” he grits out. 

“Har har. For real, I’m asking.”

“For real, a bank robbery. It’s probably on the news.”

Shirley pulls out her phone. 

“Fucking hell,” she repeats. 

“Told you so.”

“Let me guess, you tried to go all superspy on them?”

River scowls, which somehow hurts. “No. People were panicking, that’s all. I tried to help.”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t know why her flippancy suddenly gets to him, but it does. All of a sudden he’s blinking back tears, which is stupid, because he had wanted to, as she’d said, go all superspy on them. He’d had that insane thought, hadn’t he, that they were there for him? Had wanted to be at the centre of attention, to have a chance to, what, prove himself? For once?

And all he’d done was get the shit kicked out of him. For trying to calm down the other hostages, to prevent further violence. 

Stellar work on that one, really. 

“Just fuck off, okay,” he says, but there’s no bite to it, and Shirley says, sort of subdued and very uncharacteristically, “sorry.”

She stands up, knocking over her paperclip contraption as she does so. It’s probably the end of lunch, which means he should go back to his office, which means he should stand up, which means he should abandon the blissful numbness starting to work its way through his torso from the cold packs. 

But before he can so much as shift, an open bottle of paracetamol is set, not gently but not entirely roughly, onto the table in front of him. A half-drunk bottle of water appears next to it, and by the time it crosses River’s mind to turn his head to Shirley and thank her, she’s already gone. 

His hands are shaking as he takes the drugs, and the water is warm and hurts to swallow, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

He moves ever so slightly, just enough that he can rest his head against the wall without aggravating his surely fairly horrific bruises too much, and shuts his eyes. The pain pulses through him. 

He’s hazily aware of doors slamming, footsteps on the stairs, the hallmarks of the slow horses returning from lunch at last. 

By some divine miracle–or, more likely, by the workings of one Shirley Dander–no one enters the kitchen the entire rest of the day. 

River rests.

Edelgard hated rain.

Most people loved it, which confused Edelgard. Bernadetta used the rain as an excuse to stay inside, while Petra enjoyed watching from her window to see nature do its work. Edelgard, however, absolutely loathed it, as it forced her to stay inside.

Not this time though.

Edelgard, with an umbrella covering her, walked down the monastery fishing area. It was another walk, but in the rain. She despised having her schedule messed with due to weather, so she went out on her daily walk despite the rain pouring down like a stampede.

Under the small bridge where people usually fished, the water beneath it rippled. Edelgard froze for a moment, watching the lake's water rushing down further from the monastery, like a fast current river. Chances were good that it could possibly be a flood. But Edelgard believed that the flood wouldn't be that bad—the water would likely rise, but not enough to endanger anyone.

She walked down the small bridge before stopping at the edge, taking a small break from her walk. The young future emperor looked over the horizon; the weather looked nasty, with its dark gray clouds producing rain nonstop. She could imagine Hubert scolding her right now when she returned. Why would she be out in this weather? She would have caught a cold, or flu, or…

She couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Hubert fussing over her. She was used to it, but she still appreciated his help nonetheless.

"Edelgard?"

Edelgard turned her head, and her eyes widened when she saw her professor, Byleth, approaching her. Byleth too held an umbrella over her own head, as she stared at Edelgard with those piercing blue eyes. Edelgard nearly took a step back, stunned by how… beautiful… her professor looked. But Edelgard shook her head quickly. Where in Sothis' name did that come from? Byleth was her professor, nothing else. Sure, Byleth had saved her from Kostas months ago, but that was it. Edelgard did NOT have any feelings for her professor.

One part of her agreed. The other didn't.

Byleth stopped in front of Edelgard, staring down at her. Edelgard glanced away, feeling Byleth's eyes burrowing into her soul.

"Why are you out here in the rain?" Byleth simply asked, no hint of anger or disappointment in her voice. Merely concern.

Edelgard looked back at Byleth, her face turning a slight pink. Why was that happening? Perhaps she caught a cold. Yes. That was it.

Gathering enough strength to find the words to speak, Edelgard whispered, "I… needed to go for a walk."

Byleth raised a brow. "In the rain?"

"…Yes. In the rain."

Byleth's stare didn't falter, which Edelgard shuffled her feet in discomfort. It was how Byleth was, she remembered sir Jeralt saying. But it still unsettled Edelgard as her professor stared at her like Edelgard had done something wrong.

Byleth, however, nodded, before asking, "You don't mind if I join you here?"

Edelgard's face turned a darker red then. Yes. She most definitely had a fever. She might need to check with Manuela for any signs of a cold.

However, gathering as much dignity as she could, she nodded in agreement.

Byleth stood beside her, watching the horizon alongside Edelgard. She blinked every few minutes, which unnerved Edelgard. But she decided not to comment.

"The weather prevented me from fishing today," Byleth finally broke the silence after a few minutes. "It disappoints me sometimes."

Edelgard turned to face her, a brow raised. She knew that Byleth enjoyed fishing, but she didn't expect her to enjoy it that much.

"Your… father taught you how to fish, correct?"

Byleth nodded. "He taught me a lot of things when I was younger. Fishing. Fighting. Mercenary work."

"You… don't talk about your mercenary life much."

Byleth blinked, glancing down at her own feet. Edelgard mentally slapped herself. What was she thinking, asking such a sensitive question?

"Sorry," Edelgard apologized, "I didn't mean to bring up something sensitive."

"It's okay," Byleth said, her tone still flat, still steady. "If anything, I rather be a teacher than a mercenary now."

Edelgard watched her then, curiosity growing in her.

"I enjoy teaching you and the others," Byleth admitted, "it's… peaceful. Less chaotic than mercenary work."

"Teaching is indeed peaceful until Caspar ends up in trouble."

Byleth gave a slight smirk. Subtle, but still there. "Still… I don't mind it. I'm glad I was given the chance to meet you and the other Black Eagle students."

Edelgard too smiled, before glancing over at the horizon once more—

Creak

Edelgard froze. Byleth's eyes widened.

Creaaaaaaaak

Edelgard glanced down, noticing the bridge was about to collapse underneath her and Byleth. Byleth, realizing what was happening, quickly stepped back to avoid falling.

But Edelgard was too slow. The bridge collapsed under her. Edelgard screamed as she fell in the water.

She was underwater for a few seconds, panic rising in her chest as her lungs burned. Every sound was muffled in her ears until Edelgard broke the surface by sheer fear alone.

She gasped for breath, but it wasn't the end of it. She thrashed and tried to grab something—anything—to help her get back to the bridge and to safety, but there was nothing around her. The water began to take her further away, its currents fast.

"EDELGARD!"

Edelgard barely registered Byleth's panicked voice. She was so focused on trying to keep her head on the surface, but every few seconds, her head went under before she broke the surface again.

She heard another splash nearby. Edelgard struggled against the water as she tried to keep her head afloat. Panic rose as she coughed and gagged out dirty water.

She went under again. She came back to the surface.

But further away, she could see Byleth swimming towards her. Her blue eyes were filled with panic, yet she remained calm as she continued to swim towards Edelgard.

"Hold on!" Byleth yelled, "I'm coming, Edelgard!"

Edelgard opened her mouth, attempting to scream for Byleth's help, that she was drowning, only for her head to go under again. She swallowed dirty water, and when she returned to the surface, she coughed and spat out water.

The currents carried Edelgard, the flood too strong for her. Her arms began to ache. Her eyes started to flutter close. Her breathing became shallow and quick.

No! Not like this! I cannot die like this!

Edelgard struggled, trying to stay afloat until Byleth was close enough. But the currents were too strong. She could hardly breathe. She could barely keep her head over the surface.

Eventually, she sank, her body exhausted from the fight, as her eyes slid shut. The last thing she saw was someone diving after her.

_____

Edelgard thought she was dead. She truly thought so. But when she felt the cold rain hitting her skin, she realized that she was still alive. Safe.

She felt someone pushing her chest, and Edelgard winced when she felt her ribs hurting. After another hard push against her chest, Edelgard quickly sat up, coughing and spitting out water from her lungs. She gasped, before she spat out more water. She felt someone patting her back, as if trying to comfort her.

Once her lungs were cleared, Edelgard shook her head like a dog getting rid of fleas. She placed a hand on her chest, wincing again when she touched the skin there. A bruise, most likely.

"Edelgard?"

Edelgard turned her head to see Byleth there, soaking wet from head to toe. Byleth was breathing hard, as if she had exercised for hours, but Edelgard noted the severe worry in her eyes.

"What…" Edelgard tried to speak, "what has happened?"

"You fell in the water," Byleth said, "you were being swept away, so I dove in to save you."

Edelgard tried to jog her memory then. Falling in the water. Trying to keep her head afloat. Drowning.

"You…" Edelgard said, "saved me?"

Byleth nodded. "I was worried I wouldn't get to you in time. I'm glad that you're okay. And…" Byleth glanced down at Edelgard's chest, gritting her teeth. "I'm sorry about your ribs. I was using CPR on you when I broke them."

Ah, that explained the pain. However, Edelgard was more relieved than angry that Byleth had did what she did. Before she could register what she was thinking, she wrapped her arms around Byleth's neck, burying her face in her professor's shoulder. Byleth froze for a moment, before she returned the hug.

Edelgard didn't care if she was cold and shivering. Her professor had saved her life again. And she owed Byleth her life.

"Thank you…" Edelgard whispered.

Edelgard could feel a small smile on Byleth's face. "Of course, Edelgard."

Edelgard released her, her breathing causing pain in her ribs. She touched her chest again, wincing.

"Come," Byleth said, "we'll see Manuela to help you with those injuries."

Edelgard opened her mouth to protest, but upon seeing Byleth's serious expression, she knew that if she argued, she would lose. She closed her mouth.

Byleth helped her to her feet before helping her walk towards the monastery. Throughout the short walk, Edelgard's face was bright red at her professor's touch.

A rat king.

That could speak.

A rat king who could speak and wanted revenge because she had killed his son.

This was definitely not how Elenya had imagined her day would go.

The plan had been to work with Sam to seal off the source that was poisoning Portia’s water. The Civil Corps had found a broken pipe in the WOW Industries building, which she was supposed to weld shut.

But the moment the pipe was repaired, a torrent of sewage burst from the pipe above them and swept them through a hole in the floor into the sewers below.

The impact knocked the wind out of them, but luckily they emerged unscathed, save for a few bruises. While Sam was still cursing, a strange voice suddenly echoed through the air.

“If thou dare, cometh at me three floors down!”

Confused, Elenya glanced over at Sam, who was just grinning.

“Oh! This sounds like a challenge. It's probably the villain, let's check it out.”

Elenya replied uncertainly, “Shouldn't we get some backup?”

“No worries, you got me!”

With a heavy sigh, Elenya resigned herself to her fate and, together with Sam, fought her way through wave after wave of rats. She probably would have had more trouble if she hadn’t already encountered them before—back when she’d repaired the battery in the cave on Amber Island.

She had only just arrived in Portia then, and her combat skills had been nothing to write home about. She had improved considerably since then, and making her way through the corridors with Sam was almost a breeze.

The smell was far more exhausting. An ancient sewer system filled with toxic wastewater was anything but pleasant to the nose. The air was heavy, damp, and smelled of rust and something rotten. She couldn’t wait to get out of there.

When they had finally managed to make their way down the three floors, an unexpected sight unfolded before them.

A giant rat stood at the end of the platform in front of them, a crown on its head and a scepter in its hand.

The Rat King.

And he spoke to them.

“Art thou the one that ended my son?!”

After a brief exchange, the king’s henchmen suddenly rushed toward them, and Sam shoved Elenya backward. Before she could even get back to her feet, Sam was suddenly slammed into by one of the rats and sent sliding off the platform with it.

“Don't worry about me! Keep your wits!” Sam's voice echoed up from below.

But that also meant she now had to fight the remaining henchmen and the King alone.

With more luck than sense, she managed to defeat the henchmen, though she lost her jacket in the process. In a brief, careless moment, she was hit by one of the flamethrowers and her jacket went up in flames.

Pure adrenaline surged through her body as she faced the Rat King alone.

~~~~~~

Breathing heavily, Elenya looked down at the defeated Rat King.

She had actually done it. She didn’t know how, but she had done it.

Sam soon climbed back onto the platform, having finally dealt with her attackers.

“Not bad! You did well!” Sam called out to her and patted her on the shoulder in appreciation.

Elenya couldn’t help but smile proudly. She had never thought she could do it, but all those late evenings training alone in her garden had finally paid off.

Still, she could feel the battle in her bones. Her arms were heavy as lead, and she was struggling to catch her breath. She wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up tomorrow with sore muscles in places she didn’t even know she had them.

Sam took a closer look at the Rat King’s body, while Elenya resisted the urge to just sit down on the ground. She couldn’t wait to finally be home and put this strange encounter behind her.

She was just about to ask if they should head back when Sam suddenly turned towards her, eyes widening in alarm.

“Elenya, watch out!” Sam’s gaze was fixed on something behind Elenya, while her feet had already started moving. Instinctively, Elenya turned to the side, but she was too slow.

Something cold and sharp pierced her right side from behind, and pain exploded through her body instantly.

With a stifled gasp, her knees buckled beneath her, causing the object to dig even deeper into her side.

Oh God…

A moment later, Sam rushed past her and the object was ripped from her side. A new wave of pain shot through her body, and with a soft cry, she fell to the side.

She curled up in agony, pressing her hand tightly against her side. It was instantly covered in hot fluid, and nausea churned in her stomach. The pain spread like fire, and she could only vaguely hear the sounds of battle behind her.

Time slowed down. The world before her blurred, her entire being focused on that one spot. Only the pain existed.

It wasn’t until a hand rested on her shoulder that everything came back to her and the ringing in her ears faded.

“Oh God, Elenya! That damn bastard! Let me see…” The hand on her shoulder moved to hers and tried to pull it away from her side, but Elenya struggled against it.

Letting go felt impossible, as though everything inside her would spill out with it. But the pain robbed her of all her strength, and Sam was able to push her hand aside without effort.

A startled gasp, followed by another “Oh God, Elenya!” echoed through the large hall, and Elenya could only respond with a whimper.

After a brief rustling behind her, two hands suddenly pressed firmly against her side, and a pain-filled cry escaped her lips.

“Sam…”

“I know, I know. I'm sorry, but we have to stop the bleeding!”

The world blurred before her eyes once more. Breathing was difficult, and black spots danced before her eyes. Her brain tried to shield her from the pain and threatened to pull her into unconsciousness, but Elenya fought against it.

The hands at her side disappeared briefly, pulling up her T-shirt instead before placing something on her wound again. A wet hand reached for hers and guided it onto something pressed against her wound. Through the haze of pain, Elenya vaguely recognised it as a bandage pad.

“Try to hold that in place. I need to bandage it.”

Elenya tried to follow Sam’s instructions, grateful to have something to focus on. It took all her strength, but she managed to hold the dressing in place while Sam wrapped a bandage around her waist as best she could. Her hands trembled violently, but she refused to let go.

As soon as that was done, Sam pressed a small vial into her hand. Elenya looked at her friend in confusion.

“Drink this. I can’t carry you, so you’ll have to walk on your own as best you can. This should help with the pain.”

Not quite understanding the words, Elenya drank the potion, the vial nearly slipping from her wet hands. Fortunately, it didn’t take long before the unbearable pain began to subside slightly. Her breathing deepened again, and a sigh of relief escaped her.

“What… what happened?”

Sam’s jaw tensed briefly before she answered. “One of those damn Backerats was still alive and hit you from behind with his spear.” A short pause. “I should have been more careful. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not… your fault…”

Sam didn’t seem convinced, but said nothing more. Instead, she placed her hand on Elenya’s shoulder. “Come on, we have to get out of here. We need to get you to the clinic.” With that, Sam helped her roll onto her back and, from there, sit up.

Every movement sent a new, dull wave of pain through her side, but Elenya gritted her teeth. She had to be strong.

Then it was time to stand up. Sam lifted Elenya’s left arm over her shoulders while wrapping her own arm around her back. “Ready? On three.”

Elenya took a deep breath.

“One, two, three.” With that, Sam hoisted her to her feet.

Immediately, a fresh wave of pain shot through her body. Her vision darkened, and her entire weight slumped against Sam.

Sam stumbled briefly but regained her balance and held Elenya upright as her senses slowly returned. Breathing heavily, Elenya hung there, unable to feel any relief even from the painkillers as flames seemed to burn across her entire back.

As soon as she could bear at least some of her own weight again, they set off on the slow journey outside. Elenya was barely aware of it.

With every step she took, her exhaustion grew, and a fog settled over her thoughts. She could barely even feel the pain in her side anymore. Her body felt as if it no longer belonged to her.

When they finally reached the exit, they were greeted by cold rain. The sudden shock managed to snap Elenya out of her daze for a moment. The sun was already setting, and the air was extremely cold for late summer.

Sam cursed beside her. “Damn it. As if things weren't bad enough already. How are you holding up?” Her worried gaze rested on Elenya, who tried to give her a confident smile.

“Couldn’t be better…”

Of course, that was a lie. An unnatural chill had settled in her body, only intensified by the rain. She could hear her heart racing in her chest, each beat a loud thud in her head.

The grass beneath her feet kept slipping in and out of focus, and she didn’t know how she was still managing to put one foot in front of the other.

Sam beside her was gasping for breath. She was now carrying almost all of Elenya’s weight, and she would have felt guilty if her brain had still had the capacity for it.

Their pace slowed more and more as they moved away from WOW Industries, and Elenya felt she couldn’t hold on much longer. Her eyes closed without her consent, and the sound of the rain no longer reached her ears.

Then Sam suddenly let out a surprised gasp, followed by an excited “Arlo! Remi!”

Confused, Elenya opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was blurry, but she was able to make out two figures rushing toward them.

“Sam! Elenya! Thank God!”

The two figures reached them, but Elenya’s eyes had already closed again. As if through a fog, she heard her friends’ voices.

“Arlo, Remi, I’m so glad to see you. What are you doing here?”

“You were gone for so long, we were worried. But what happened?”

“No time to explain! Elenya needs help; damn beast stabbed her.”

The shocked gasps that followed Sam’s words rang surprisingly clear in her ears. Then suddenly, two warm hands gently cupped her face. The warmth was a stark contrast to the cold that had taken hold of her body, and she unconsciously leaned into the touch.

“Elenya, can you hear me?” Arlo’s deep voice reached her ears.

With great effort, she managed to open her eyes. It took a moment for her vision to clear, but then she could see his deep blue eyes looking at her with concern. As soon as she understood his words, she tried to nod.

Her voice wouldn’t obey her.

“That’s good. We’re taking you to the clinic, okay? Everything will be fine.”

As if that were a signal to her body, her last ounce of strength left her and her legs gave way beneath her. Sam, who was too exhausted by now, could no longer hold her, and her arm slipped off her shoulder.

“Whoa!” The hands quickly disappeared from her face, instead two strong arms catched her under the armpits. She suddenly found herself leaning against Arlo’s chest, his wet jacket cold against her cheek.

“Remi, help me! She’s ice cold!”

Two more hands appeared, holding her steady, while Arlo’s arms and chest disappeared. She heard the sound of a zipper, then suddenly something heavy and warm was draped over her shoulders. Her arms were gently guided into the sleeves of what she assumed was a jacket, and the cold rain vanished from her skin.

The scent of leather, apples, and wet forest floor filled her nose, and something inside her calmed down. The smell promised safety.

“I’m afraid this is going to hurt a little, but I have to lift you up, okay?” There was that warm hand on her cheek again, and with a sigh she nestled into the rough palm. She no longer knew what was happening around her.

The hands supporting her shifted again. A strong arm slipped under her arm and around her back, while a second one appeared under the backs of her knees.

And suddenly she was weightless. A sharp pain in her side drew a weak moan from her, immediately followed by an apologetic murmur.

“I’m sorry, Elenya. But you’ll feel better soon. Hang in there a little longer, okay?”

The deep rumble of Arlo’s voice reached her through the haze, and she suddenly realised she was in his arms. Her head rested against his strong shoulder, which was covered in something wonderfully soft.

Unconsciously, she buried her face in it, savouring the contrast the soft fabric offered against the pain and chaos. That soothing scent clung to it as well, and a pleasant warmth drove the chill from her cheek.

All strength left her body, and she slumped in Arlo’s arms.

Instantly, his grip tightened around her, and his panicked voice reached her ears. “Elenya! Are you still with me?! Come on, you have to hang in there.”

Elenya didn’t understand why he was suddenly so panicked, but she tried to calm him down anyway. Only a soft “Arlo…” escaped her lips, but that seemed to be enough.

A sigh of relief shuddered through the shoulder beneath her. “Good. Just don't fall asleep, okay?”

Elenya tried. But every step Arlo took sent a sharp pain through her side; everything was spinning, and her head felt as if it were wrapped in soft cotton.

More than anything, she wanted to let go and drift into the darkness.

Unconsciously, a soft whimper escaped her, prompting Arlo to press his cheek soothingly against her head. “I know. I know. Please hang in there.”

The world around her faded away. Only the warm, soft fabric beneath her cheek and Arlo’s protective presence remained.

Her stomach churned slightly as Arlo stepped onto the lift that carried them down from the platform. Then she was lifted higher, and a moment later she felt a saddle beneath her.

“Can you hold on for a second?” Completely confused, but instinctively following Arlo’s words, she groped blindly for the saddle pommel. Her eyes refused to open, but she managed to muster enough strength for a moment to hold on.

Arlo helped her lift her right leg over to the other side of Spacer, then climbed up behind her. Quickly, his left arm wrapped around her waist as she threatened to tip to the side, her strength already spent again.

Gratefully, she leaned back against his strong chest, ignoring the pain in her back as her wound pressed against him. The pain was already a part of her. A constant companion. A fire that devoured her energy and whose hunger could never be sated.

With a gentle nudge to Spacer’s flank, Arlo urged his horse on, and they were on their way toward Portia.

Exhausted, Elenya slumped. Her head fell to the side, so that her face came to rest in the crook of Arlo’s neck. Once again, she was enveloped by the scent of leather, apple, and wet forest floor, and exhaustion threatened to drag her under.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep! We’re almost there.” The shoulder her head was resting on jolted slightly, and she was yanked away from the darkness.

Arlo’s panicked voice made her summon her last bit of strength and gently place her hand on his, which rested on her waist. Weakly, she squeezed his fingers, causing him to sigh in relief.

“Please hang in there.”

Elenya tried. Arlo kept talking to her, though the words no longer made sense. Yet she could feel the vibration of his words in her back. Deep and soothing, his voice filled her head, and despite the pain, she felt safer than ever before.

At first, she still managed to squeeze his fingers now and then. That way, she could show him she was still there. But shortly after the sound of hooves shifted from the soft grass to asphalt, she lost all control over her body.

Time became a distant concept

The warmth at her back vanished.

Instinctively, she reached for it.

“Arlo…” His name slipped from her lips before she even knew she was speaking.

Bright light. The smell of disinfectant.

Voices. Hands touching her.

Cold hands.

Not the warm hands that had made her feel safe.

Panic clawed at her chest.

Then a familiar voice.

Calm. Steady.

The words made no sense, but the sound of it eased something inside her. She held onto it with everything she had left.

Then warmth again. A hand clasping hers.

And at last, the darkness claimed her.

~~~~~~

Elenya was floating.

Or at least that’s how it felt.

Her body felt distant, as though it were wrapped in layers of soft cotton. Her head was resting on a soft pillow, and the mattress beneath her was softer than usual, too.

Where was she?

With a soft groan, she managed to open her eyes. A white ceiling greeted her, which only confused her even more.

Her hhouse didn’t have a white ceiling.

Searching for answers, she turned her head to the side, which required much more effort than it should have. As she did so, her eyes fell on Arlo, which didn’t exactly help clear up her confusion. He was slumped in a chair next to her, his head buried in his hands.

His red hair was even more tousled than usual, and he looked terribly exhausted.

What had happened?

She couldn’t really remember. Her thoughts were moving at a snail’s pace.

At least she now knew she was in the clinic.

"Arlo," she tried to say, but only a croak escaped her throat. Only now did she realize how dry her mouth was.

At her sound, Arlo jumped up, and his blue eyes met hers.

“Elenya, you’re awake!” He quickly sat up, his worried gaze sweeping over her face. “How are you feeling?”

Elenya tried to answer, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and no sound came out. Arlo seemed to quickly realize what was wrong, because he reached for the glass sitting next to the bed. Carefully, he slid his hand under her head to lift it and held the glass to her lips.

She greedily drank the cool water, relief washing through her with every sip. Once the glass was empty, her head was gently laid back on the pillows, and Arlo sat back down.

“Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Her voice still sounded hoarse, and she could barely manage more than a whisper, but at least she could finally answer him.

“How are you? Are you in pain?” Arlo repeated his question, and Elenya had to think about it for a moment.

Should she be in pain?

She tried to focus on her body, but it still felt as if it were wrapped in soft cotton. Then she noticed a slight throbbing in her right side. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it felt wrong.

“I…” The words wouldn't come. As soon as she found the right word, it slipped away again, and frustration welled up inside her.

Why couldn’t she think?

Arlo seemed to sense her frustration immediately. To her surprise, he placed his hand on hers, his warmth a stark contrast to her ice-cold hand. He gently squeezed it once before letting go.

“It's okay. You've lost a lot of blood. Your body is exhausted.”

“What…?” Once again, she couldn't get any further. Luckily, she didn't have to.

“Do you remember anything?”

Elenya could only shake her head. Her mind was blank.

“You were with Sam at WOW Industries. You were just supposed to fix the broken pipe, but then you were both flushed into the sewer system below.” Arlo began to recount the events, but she could barely follow his words. It wasn’t until he got to the talking Rat King that an image formed in her mind.

That part, at least, was impossible to forget.

“Neither of you noticed that one of the Backerats was still alive. He caught you from behind with his spear…” Arlo swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on her side.

“Sam got you out. Luckily, Remi and I had gone looking for you two after you’d been gone so long. You’d already lost a lot of blood, and I brought you here as fast as I could.”

A memory surfaced. Warmth. Safety. The scent of leather and apples, and something impossibly soft beneath her cheek.

Her gaze drifted to the grey sweater stretched across Arlo's chest. Was that what had felt so wonderfully soft?

Stressed, Arlo ran his fingers through his hair, and a soft, pained sound escaped his lips. “You really gave me a scare when you suddenly lost consciousness. I thought… I thought I was too late…”

Elenya’s heart sank at the look Arlo gave her. She had never seen him look so vulnerable.

“I’m… I’m sorry… I…” A frustrated sound escaped her.

Why wouldn’t her brain finally work?

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. It shouldn’t be your job to deal with monsters like that.” Guiltily, his gaze fell back to her right side, but then his expression suddenly shifted to one of appreciation.

“But Sam said you did really well. You defeated the Rat King all by yourself while she was being held back. You’ve really improved.”

Warmth spread through Elenya at the compliment. The fact that Arlo, of all people, was praising her fighting skills meant a lot to her.

“Thank you…” She felt her cheeks grow warm and hoped he wouldn’t notice. But then something else occurred to her. “Sam… how is she?” Glad to have finally managed to get a whole sentence out, she turned her gaze back to Arlo, who was smiling warmly at her.

“Don’t worry, other than a few bruises, she’s fine. She’s resting at home right now.”

Elenya sighed with relief. Since she couldn’t really remember the fight, she didn’t know how her friend had fared.

Then her gaze suddenly fell on the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight.

“How… how long was I out?”

Arlo also glanced briefly at the clock, his eyes widening in surprise. “I think it’s been about four hours since we arrived at the clinic.”

Four hours?

Elenya didn’t know if that was good or bad.

How much blood had she lost?

Then a completely different thought occurred to her. “Were you here the whole time?”

“Oh… um…” To her surprise, a faint blush spread across Arlo’s cheeks. “You got really panicked when I tried to let go of you to make room for Dr. Xu. So I thought I’d stay with you.”

“Oh…” Now it was her turn to blush. She was terribly embarrassed that she seemed to have clung to him so tightly. “I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to! I’m glad you feel safe with me. I was happy to stay here.” Arlo smiled encouragingly at her, yet an awkward silence spread between them.

Elenya’s cheeks were still burning, even as a pleasant warmth spread through her.

Arlo had stayed with her. Because he wanted her to feel safe.

Her heart gave a little joyful flutter that she couldn’t quite explain.

Unable to meet his warm gaze, her eyes drifted back to his sweater. As they did, the memories came flooding back. Suddenly, she could feel Arlo’s strong arms beneath her again, carrying her securely to safety. The soft fabric against her cheek and that scent of leather, apple, and wet forest floor.

“You smell good.” The words slipped unconsciously from her lips, and she opened her eyes in alarm.

Oh God, she didn’t mean to say that out loud!

But instead of staring at her in shock, Arlo started to laugh. A deep, wonderful laugh that made her smile too, even though her face was burning with embarrassment.

She loved Arlo’s laugh, and she wished she could hear it more often.

“Well, thanks. I'm glad my scent didn't make you feel even more dizzy.” There was still a hint of laughter in his voice, and once again Elenya's heart skipped a joyful beat.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it, because Dr. Xu stepped out of the adjoining room.

“Oh, Elenya, you’re awake!”

Startled, Elenya flinched slightly. She had momentarily forgotten where she was.

The doctor hurried over to her and looked her over with warm concern. “How are you? You gave us quite a scare.”

Feeling guilty, Elenya lowered her gaze to the blanket. She hated it when others had to worry about her.

“Pretty good… I think…” Now that there was a second person there she had to focus on, the fog in her head returned. She suddenly felt terribly exhausted, and her eyes threatened to close.

“I’ll just quickly check your vitals, then you can go back to sleep. You need the rest.” Arlo made room for Dr. Xu, who gently took her wrist and began to count her pulse.

Subconsciously, Elenya’s gaze followed Arlo as he moved toward the foot of the bed. She barely noticed what Dr. Xu was doing, all her energy focused on Arlo.

It struck her again how tall he was — how he seemed to fill the room without trying. Not intimidating, just steady. Safe.

Somehow, as long as he was there, everything felt a little less frightening.

Her eyelids grew heavier.

Dr. Xu stepped back, and then suddenly Arlo was there beside her again. He leaned down toward her and whispered softly, “I’ll stop by again tomorrow, okay? Get some rest.” His warm hand rested on hers once more, squeezing it gently.

x

Kansas is a beautiful state, and you love living here for most of the year. The summers, while very humid, are breezy and warm. The winters, however, are when there are issues. You get snow, of course, but it’s the storms that are brutal. Since you’re completely underground, you feel the effects of the storm more than anyone else.

Jack, Sam, and Dean are making sure the Bunker is locked down to prevent any snow from coming inside. Last year, when it rained for an entire week, water was leaking into the Bunker from pooling on the ground above. They’ll also be checking the breakers to make sure the power doesn’t go out, even though it happens every winter.

You’re making sure you have everything you need for at least a month in case you get snowed in and can’t leave. You just went grocery shopping, so you’re confident you’ll be okay.

“Hey, do we have everything?” Sam asks as he walks into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I just went grocery shopping. We should have enough food.” You grab your list and go down the line when you hear it. Your daughter is coughing. “Shit, I knew we forgot something. Darlene is sick. We don’t have enough medicine here.”

“It’s okay, I’ll grab some.”

“You think it’s safe to go out there?”

“The store is right around the corner, and it’s just starting. I should go now before it gets worse.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

He grabs the Impala’s keys and heads out. Dean and Jack did their best to lock down the Bunker, so all you have to do now is wait. Darlene coughs again, so you and Dean head over to her room. She is bundled up in her blankets, sleeping. You ghost a hand over her forehead, which is burning with a fever. Not too hot, but if she doesn’t get medicine soon, it’ll get worse.

“Poor baby,” you whisper.

“It could just be the flu,” Dean whispers.

“I hope that’s all it is.”

Darlene moans in pain before opening her eyes. Tears well when she sees both of her parents standing over her.

“Mommy, Daddy, my tummy hurts,” she whimpers.

“I’ll get something light for her to eat,” you offer.

You leave the room and fix something light in the kitchen. Some crackers and chicken noodle soup should be good for her. The hot broth will do wonders, and the crackers will ease her pain. Paired with that is a glass of ginger ale in hopes it’ll ease some of her pains. You carry the tray back to her room and see that Dean is now lying in her bed with his daughter in his arms.

“She fell back asleep,” Dean whispers as he rubs her back.

“Well, the soup might be cold when she wakes up, but she can try eating the crackers and ginger ale.”

Sam comes back quickly with the medicine in time for the storm to get worse. Since the entire bunker is underground, it doesn’t shake, but you can still hear the wind, snow, and rain slam against the metal door above. There is a structure that was built above the bunker to give off the illusion that it’s a power plant, but there is only enough power there to bring it to the bunker.

As the storm rages on, you easily find stuff to do. This place has a lot to offer when one is bored, and it certainly helps that Dean built that man cave. For a couple of hours, you, Sam, Jack, and Dean play board and card games.

One by one, the group dwindles until it’s just you and Dean left. It’s nearly midnight, so you decide to call it for the night and get some sleep.

Three hours into sleeping, you wake up with a gasp. The hair on your arms is standing straight up, and your stomach turns painfully. The bunker is quiet, even with the storm outside. Dean is snoring lightly on his stomach, and you shake his shoulders to get him to wake up.

“Dean, wake up,” you whisper.

“What?” he grumbles. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just… Something’s wrong.”

Dean lifts his head and looks at you. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Not me. I just have a feeling something is wrong.”

“It’s probably the storm outside.” He lies back down. “Go back to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

You can’t go back to sleep unless you check that everything is okay. You push the covers off you and slip out of bed. You keep the door open slightly in case you need to scream for Dean, and you make your way over to Darlene’s bedroom.

You step into her room and turn on the small lamp in the corner. She is sleeping in bed. Everything looks fine. So, why are you so on edge? You press your hand to her forehead to see how her fever is doing, and you gasp at how hot she is. You jerk your hand away before the skin can burn you.

“DEAN!!!” you scream.

Seconds later, Dean’s booming footsteps sound in the hallway before he runs inside the room. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s burning up,” you cry. Darlene is motionless in your arms. “She’s very hot. She’s not waking up! We need to do something now!”

“We can’t go anywhere. The roads are covered in snow and ice.”

“Oh, my God,” you whisper. “We need an ice bath now! Get Sam to help!”

Dean runs out of the room while you scoop Darlene into your arms. Please be okay. Please let my baby be okay. “You’re okay, Darlene. You’re gonna be just fine. Mommy and Daddy are gonna make you feel better.” She may be asleep, but you’re gonna pretend that she can hear you.

As Sam and Dean are running around to get ice into the bathroom, Jack comes out of his room in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“She’s burning up!”

Jack rushes to the bathroom with you just as Sam and Dean finish putting the last of the ice inside. You strip Darlene to just her t-shirt and put her inside the ice bath. She immediately starts shivering, and you grab a washcloth and soak it in room-temperature water. After squeezing the water out of it, you put the cloth to her forehead.

“Mommy,” she groans. “Daddy…”

“We’re right here, baby,” you say.

“You’re going to be okay, princess,” Dean promises.

Darlene moans in pain and scrunches her face up. “Dean, you have to do something. She needs medical care now.”

Dean looks at Jack in thought. He’s the only one who has powers here. He’s still so new to his powers since it’s only been about a month since he was born, but there is no other option.

“Jack, you gotta heal her.”

“What? I don’t know how.”

“No better way to learn than right now, right?”

“I don’t… Um…”

“Jack, just focus,” Sam encourages. “Just focus on making her feel better. Here, put a hand to her head.” Jack moves his hand to the top of Darlene’s head. “Close your eyes and focus on making her feel better as much as you can.”

Jack closes his eyes and tells himself to heal Darlene, to make the fever go away. Nothing happens.

“I can’t. She’s getting worse. Can’t you just give her some medicine?”

“It’s not going to help right now. It takes time for the medicine to kick in. Jack, she’s going to overheat.”

“Just clear your mind,” Sam instructs. “Don’t focus on u being here. Don’t focus on medicine or the storm. Just focus on Darlene. You don’t have to heal her completely. Just get her fever to go down.”

Jack closes his eyes again and concentrates. He scrounges up every bit of power he can find. When Jack opens his eyes, they are bright gold. Gold light shines from under his palm. He doesn’t look at anyone for fear that his concentration will break and Darlene will be hurt.

Darlene sighs in relief and opens her eyes. The redness in her face washes away with Jack’s power. You reach over and feel her forehead, which is significantly cooler. There is still a fever, but it’s not life-threatening anymore.

“Mommy, I’m cold,” Darlene shivers.

“Okay, Jack, that’s good.” Jack pulls his hand away and stands. “Thank you!”

“Come here, baby,” Dean says. Darlene reaches for her dad and clings to him when he picks her up. He rubs her back to try to warm her up, and she wraps her arms and legs around him. “Let’s go get you some medicine, okay?”

Dean walks out of the bathroom with his daughter, and you pull Jack in for a hug. “Thank you, Jack. You did so well.”

Jack wears a proud smile on his face for being able to help. You leave him and Sam alone to take care of the ice while you follow Dean to Darlene’s room. She’s already in dry clothes and in bed with Dean next to her. The medicine bottle sits on the bedside table with the little cup for the liquid already used.

You sit on the edge of her bed and smooth her hair away from her face. She is already asleep in Dean’s arms.

“You did really well with the ice bath,” Dean whispers to you.

“You did well with Jack.”

You lean over your daughter to kiss your husband, and then you settle on the other side of her so that all three of you are in bed together. Come morning time, you hope that the medicine has done its job and lowered her fever altogether.

x

x

You flip through the magazine with a bored expression on your face. It’s the same shit every time with the same celebrities. None of them learns their lessons, and almost all of them crave attention from the public, good or bad.

Not even a dozen steps away from you, Jackson, your father’s right-hand man, sends another punch to the man he’s got tied up on a chair. The man’s face has been beaten severely, and several of his teeth are scattered on the floor. He refuses to talk, so Jackson keeps punching his face.

“Still not talking?” Jackson huffs out.

“How can he when you’ve knocked out nearly all of his teeth?” you mutter without taking your eyes off the magazine.

Jackson ignores the blood on his hands as he rolls up his sleeves, and he walks over to the coffee table with tools on it. He grabs the taser rod and turns to the man. Through swollen eyes, he can see the stick light up. He jerks away as if he can go somewhere, but he’s locked to the chair.

Jackson walks over to the man and bends slightly. “Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll put this away.”

“Go to hell,” the man mutters.

“Have it your way.”

Jackson stands up, and he sticks the end of the rod against the man's chest. The smell of burning flesh reaches your nose, and you recoil in disgust.

“Do you really have to do this in here?”

“Well, if someone didn’t crash into my workshop, I wouldn’t have to.”

You paste on an innocent look and shrug. “I apologized.”

Jack shakes his head and returns his attention to the burnt man. You slam the magazine down on the couch and leave the living room in search of your father. Jackson only listens to one man and one man only—your father.

Your father is in his office with several of his men, going over important business that he has with the shipyard. Apparently, one of the sea containers that is coming in is loaded with guns, weapons, and drugs. Your father paid a pretty penny for that shipment, and nothing can go wrong. Last time, someone ambushed the trade and scared off the seller.

“Everything must go according to plan. I need that container. Riley, have your men stationed at the shipyard. I need you to be on top of things if shit goes south. Romeo, you’ll be on the boats. I need to know if there is going to be an issue before there is an issue.”

“Yes, sir,” Romeo nods.

Your father is about to say something else when he notices you standing by the door. “We’ll talk more later. Dismissed.” All of the men inside the room stand and slowly leave one by one. When it’s just you and your father, he gestures for you to come closer. “What’s going on?”

“Daddy, I’m bored. Watching a man get tortured isn’t nearly as fun as they make it seem in the movies.”

He chuckles and taps his pen on the table. He reaches into his jacket pocket and removes his wallet. He slides out the sleek black card and holds it out between his pointer and middle fingers.

“It’s best if you get out of the house for a while. Go shopping. Take Miles and Cyrus with you.”

“I’m not a child, Daddy. I can take care of myself.” Still, you take the card from his hand. “I can kick anyone’s ass.”

“I know you can, but you’re my baby girl, and we’re in the middle of something big. I just need to know you’ll be safe.”

You huff out in annoyance and turn to leave. “Fine, but I’m spending at least a hundred grand, and they’re carrying all of my bags.”

Your father’s laugh follows you out of the house, and you can’t help but grin. Being the daughter of a mafia boss has its perks, but you do wish for something more out of life. It sucks that you have to have at least two guards with you at all times, even if you understand why it has to be this way.

You can have anything you want and never have to work a day in your life. That doesn’t mean you don’t know how to do shit for yourself. You do volunteer work in soup kitchens, homeless shelters, senior centers, animal shelters, and hospitals. You take karate and kickboxing lessons. You watch YouTube videos on almost anything you wish to know about. You’re self-taught in a lot of things.

You’re not going to sit back and become a spoiled princess who has to rely on the men in her life to take care of things.

It’d certainly be nice for you to go out and not have to worry about someone kidnapping you. It’d be nice to be seen for once instead of as Daddy’s Little Princess.

A couple of days pass by without issue when your father asks you to come into his study. You were busy swimming laps in the pool when Jackson came over to let you know. Now you’re standing in your father’s office with a sundress over your wet bathing suit, your father sitting behind his desk, and a man you’ve never seen before sitting to your right.

The man is lean and tall with curly brown hair. Glasses are perched on his nose, but they don’t hide how bright his brown eyes are. He has no muscles from what you can see, so you’re not sure what he’s here for. The men your father employs look nothing like this.

This man looks like a nerd. A very cute nerd.

“You called?”

Your father explains who this man is. His name is Spencer Reid, and he met him at a recent meetup for guns. Everyone on Spencer’s team was killed, but they saved him because of his skills. If your father is anything, it’s efficient. Why waste someone’s life when they can be beneficial?

“He’s a computer expert and a hacker. I figured his skills would be put to good use here.”

“You already have one. What about Oliver?”

“Unfortunate accident, really. Spencer is supposed to replace him, given that he passes the small trial basis.”

“And if he fails?”

Your father looks at Spencer and smirks. “He won’t. Right, Spencer?”

“Yes, sir. I’m very good at what I do. Considering my last boss is now dead, I’m in need of new work.”

“Okay… Well, welcome aboard, Spencer.”

You’re still suspicious about Spencr. It’s not just about him; it’s every new person who comes to work for your father. As much as you want to leave this life and be your own person, your father is the only family you have left. You will do whatever you can to protect him. What he does is illegal, yes, but he is a good man.

Spencer watches you walk off, admiring the way the dress sways around your hips. As if you can feel his eyes on you, you turn and lock eyes with him. He immediately turns back, and you smirk at how flustered he looks at catching him in the act.

He may be cute, but you’re not going to make this easy on him.

Over the next couple of weeks, Spencer has been glued to your father’s side, showing him what he can do with a computer. If Spencer is a hacker, then he can manipulate the financial world, hack into servers to scope out places, hack into people’s lives, and even work on your father’s books. He has an accountant, but Spencer is a genius, so your father is putting his brain to good use.

Long story short, you haven’t seen Spencer much, so you haven’t been able to talk to him about anything. He might be good at manipulating your father, but you won’t fold so easily. The only one who hasn’t been on the receiving end of your protectiveness is Jackson, only because he’s been with your father since before you were born. You grew up around him.

One day, you find yourself in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for a snack. After grabbing a handful of things, you set them on the kitchen island and start preparing a snack. Spencer walks into the kitchen and freezes when he sees you standing there in very short shorts and a thin tank.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me?” you ask without looking up.

“Sorry,” he mutters. He walks over to the kitchen stool, sits, and steals a piece of fruit. “Y/N, right?”

“Yeah. How are things going?”

“Good, I think. I’m learning a lot.”

“I bet you are.” You take a bite of an apple slice. “So, what were you doing before all of this?”

“I already told your father all of this.”

“Am I my father?” Spencer shakes his head. “So answer my question.”

“I worked with the Blackwood Family for a decade. Before that, odd jobs here and there.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Are you really a genius?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get into all of this?”

“I was browsing the dark web out of curiosity and caught the attention of a man selling hard-core drugs. The money was too good to pass up.”

“Where did you go to college?”

“MIT.”

You keep grilling Spencer about who he is and what he's been doing all his life, and he has an answer for everything. Too perfect. Even though none of his answers are suspicious, you’re still suspicious of him.

You plate your fruit and clean the area of everything else. “I don’t like you, Spencer.”

“What?”

“I don’t like you because you’re new, and you have something to hide.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Everyone does.”

Spencer looks into your eyes when he asks, “Do you?”

You don’t answer him. Instead, you take your plate of fruit and leave the kitchen.

Spencer waits until that very night to slip out of the house undetected. He learned everything about hacking through Penelope, so it’s easy to loop the footage just slightly to prevent the cameras from picking up on him leaving.

His car is stashed a mile away in a motel parking lot, and he drives another ten miles away from the house before parking in another motel. He gets out and knocks on Room 313. The door opens, and Hotch ushers him inside after making sure no one is following Spencer.

“Any news?”

“I think Nicholas trusts me enough because he’s shown me his books. All of his dealings. I memorized it all.”

The FBI has been trying to nail your father, Nicholas Vincenzo, after catching him with illegal weapons and drugs at a shipyard. He and most of his men got away, but there were a few who were arrested. They won’t talk, even now, so they have to rely on an inside man to get the job done.

Spencer tells them everything he’s learned over the past couple of weeks. The Black Rose Syndicate is a very intricate organization that has a lot of layers and people involved. Nicholas doesn’t trust him enough to reveal all of his secrets, but he’ll work hard to gain his trust. Then, he tells them about you.

“She doesn’t trust me. She’s suspicious of me.”

“You have to get her to trust you,” Derek says. “Do whatever it takes.”

“Yeah, I know. The glasses still work?”

“Yeah, Penelope can see whatever you can see, and the audio is still working. Don’t worry, Reid, she’ll help you with whatever hacking they have you doing.”

“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about what they’ll do to me if they find out about me.”

“Reid, even if they do, the second the connection is cut, we’ll be there. We know your location. You’ll be okay,” Hotch promises.

“Thanks… I should get going before they realize I’m gone.”

Spencer finishes with the team before leaving the motel. He drives back to the property and checks the cameras to make sure his presence is unknown. He slips in the same way he left and returns to his room without making a noise.

The next couple of days go by in a blur, but Spencer thinks Nicholas is starting to let his guard down around him. The same can’t be said for you. When Spencer has a break, he walks around the mansion in search of you. He has to bond with you, or else this won’t work. He needs everyone to trust him.

He walks past a closed-door room and pauses when he hears music come from inside. He opens the door slightly and peeks inside to see you sitting on the floor with a canvas in front of you. Paint samples are all around you. Your back is turned to him, so he can see the painting clearly.

You’re in the middle of working on a mermaid piece. You’re working on the tail, more specifically, the shimmering scales.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there?” you call out without stopping.

“Sorry,” he mutters. He walks inside and closes the door behind him. “That’s really good. Do you like painting?”

“I do. It helps calm me.” You set the paintbrush down and look at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I had a break.”

“Take the break somewhere else.”

Spencer doesn’t let your hostility scare him off. He sits next to you on the ground. “Why don’t you like me?” You pick up the paintbrush and resume working on the mermaid’s tail. “It can’t be because I’m new. I just saw your dad recruit someone new, and you were laughing with him yesterday.”

“This isn’t storytime, Spencer,” you sigh.

“I get it.” He might be playing with fire, but he takes the leap. “I’d be jealous too if my dad was spending all his time with someone else.”

You bark out a laugh and shake your head with a grin. “Oh, you got it all wrong, Pretty Boy.” He is taken aback by the nickname, especially since it’s Morgan’s nickname for him. “Everyone here knows I’m Daddy’s Little Princess.”

“Okay, then why don’t you like me?”

The smile fades from your face as you paint. “You’re not the first hacker my dad has hired. There were others before you, and they hurt my dad. They wanted insider information to give to his enemies. They nearly succeeded, so sue me if I’m a little weary about someone new getting so close to such sensitive information.” You drop your voice to a whisper when you add, “He’s the only family I have left. I can’t lose him.”

Spencer feels guilty for why he’s really here, but he can’t fuck this mission up now. He swallows down his guilt as best as he can and asks, “What about your mom?”

“Shot and killed by a man who is six feet under. I thought killing him would make me feel better, but all it’s done is remind me that she’s no longer here.”

You shouldn’t even be talking to Spencer, but no one here ever talks to you. They don’t ask you how you’re doing. They don’t want to get to know you. It gets pretty lonely in this big house with ghosts around.

“I get it,” Spencer says, shocking you.

He’s shocked himself. He really shouldn’t be telling you this, but he also doesn’t really have anyone to tell this to. Yes, he has his entire team, and he has told them about his feelings, but they don’t truly understand.

“Oh? You shot and killed the man who killed your mom?”

“No, but my mom has schizophrenia. When I visit her, and she doesn’t recognize me, it just reminds me that my mother is gone, too.”

You lower your paintbrush and look at Spencer with a soft look. “I’m sorry. That must be hard.”

“It is… She’s alive, but sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it.”

Spencer spends the rest of the day with you, watching you paint. The conversation isn’t as deep as the one before, but he does get to know you a bit better. He doesn’t understand why someone like you has to be involved in any of this. You’re a good person, he can see that much. It just makes what he has to do all that much harder.

You’re still suspicious of Spencer, but you’re warming up to him. He’s not that bad once you look past the illegal shit he’s doing.

Then, one day, shit hits the fan when you walk downstairs to see all of your father’s men running about like they’ve got their heads chopped off. They jog past you with weapons in their hands, not sparing you a moment.

Your father walks out of his office dressed in a three-piece suit, one of his more expensive ones. He only wears those kinds of suits when he has business to attend to outside of this house. Spencer and Jackson are right behind him.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“Cyrus was killed at Omertà Lounge.” That’s one of the clubs your father owns. “Apparently, the Black Order was there looking to stir up trouble.”

The Black Order has been one of your father’s biggest enemies for a long time. They tried doing business at the beginning of their relationship, but that fell through just as quickly as it started.

“You’re going there?”

“They can’t get away with that. Some got away, but a few were caught, so I’m just gonna go have a chat.”

“Let me come with you,” you blurt.

Spencer’s head snaps over to you, but you don’t pay him any attention.

“No. You need to stay here.”

“Daddy, I’m more than capable of handling myself. I’ve been training for a decade. If you see me taking over after you die, then I need to go with you.”

“No means no, Y/N. I’m not arguing with you. You’re staying here until I get back. If I so much as find out you left to take the trash out, you’re not gonna like me.”

Your father leaves with most of his men and Jackson, leaving only a few behind to look after you. Why does he insist on keeping you in this gilded cage? You’re fucking pissed, but it’s not like you can go against your father’s orders. If you do leave, then he’s going to kill the guards for not doing their job. They’re not going to get hurt because of you, so you have no choice but to stay here.

You march into the kitchen and grab something to eat even though you’re not hungry. Someone walks into the kitchen, and you look up with a scoff.

“What, you’re trapped here, too?”

“What’s going on?” Spencer asks.

“The Black Order has been rivals with my father for decades. They once went into business together, but something went wrong, and now they’ll never see eye to eye. The Black Order has been trying to take my father down without success, and they know better than to step onto our territory. The fact that they went to his club and shot one of his men? He won’t let that go. An eye for an eye.”

“It sounds dangerous. You wanted to go with him?”

“Of course, I did. I’m his only daughter. I’m supposed to take over this entire empire when he dies. How am I supposed to know how to handle shit if he doesn’t let me go?”

“Maybe he’s worried about you. He doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“That’s bullshit, Spencer. I have been training in kickboxing and karate for a decade. I know how to take care of myself. I don’t get why he doesn’t see me as more than a fragile little thing. God, I wish I could leave…”

This surprises Spencer. He didn’t think you’d say that, and he might be able to work with that. “What do you mean?”

“I love my father, I really do, but I find myself wishing I wasn’t in this family. I just… It’s always violence. My father will get his hands dirty if needed, but he tries his best to stay out of the violence. That doesn’t mean he doesn't know how to punish someone. I just wish that I could be normal. You know, go to school without having bodyguards or go to the movies with friends… I don’t have a lot. The ones I do are barely hanging on by a thread.”

Spencer doesn’t know what to say to this. He hates seeing you this sad and frustrated. He loves it when you smile and laugh, so he decides to do something to distract you, even if only for a moment.

Spencer reaches over and grabs a couple of grapes from your plate. “You like magic?”

“What?”

“Magic. Do you like it?”

“Uh, I guess. Why?”

“Check this out.” Spencer uses the grapes and performs one of his well-known magic tricks by making the grape disappear from his hand and reappear behind your ear. The smile on your face tells him he did his job right. He tosses the grape into the air and catches it with his mouth. “How’d you like that?”

“How’d you do that?”

“A magician never tells,” he winks.

Spencer does a good job of distracting you while your father is gone. You know he’s doing it, but that doesn’t mean you hate it. You two take all the grapes from the fridge and sit on opposite ends of the table. For an hour, you two toss grapes at each other and try to catch them in your mouths. You’re not very good at this, so there are a lot of grapes on the floor around you.

“How are you so bad at this?” Spencer laughs.

“Don’t laugh at me, Pretty Boy. I don’t spend my time catching grapes with my mouth.”

“Okay, I’ll go easy this time.” Spencer moves closer by a couple of chairs before tossing you a grape. It misses, and you laugh when it bounces off your chin. “Okay, maybe this isn’t for everyone.”

Your laugh is interrupted by your father returning. You jump up from your seat, the grapes already forgotten. The only blood on your father is a spot on his collar. His knuckles are bruised, though.

“How did it go? What happened?” you ask in a rush.

“I took care of it.”

That’s all he says to you before heading into his office with Jackson and a few other men. That’s it? That’s all he’s going to give you? You can’t believe him. The mood a second go is soured, and Spencer watches you stomp to your room.

Despite having a lot of information from your dad, the BAU can’t move in. Spencer still needs to know who Nicholas’ suppliers are, the businesses he works with, and now the Black Order. If the BAU takes down the Black Rose Syndicate, then the Black Order might retaliate.

So, over the next couple of months, Spencer works with your father on almost everything he does, learning whatever he can. He hates helping him hack into places to take down others, but it’s a necessary evil.

Alongside your dad, Spencer has been spending more time with you. He’s doing a very good job at lowering your guard. It’s not easy for someone like you, so he does feel guilty, but he has to try to remember the endgame.

What he has to do will hurt you, but your father is a bad man, whether you see it or not. He should be put behind bars for the rest of his life. He knows you’ve killed at least one person, but he doesn’t think you should go down for the crimes of your father.

From what you told him, you don’t want this life, and he can’t fault you for being born into a family like this.

One night, a storm rages outside the mansion. Lightning lights up the whole house, and thunder booms so loud that the house shakes. He is lying on his bed, just staring at the ceiling, when his bedroom door opens. He sees someone walk in and close the door, but he doesn’t move from his spot.

He recognizes you, even in the dark.

You climb into Spencer’s bed and tuck yourself under the covers. You turn to him and stare into his honey-brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer whispers.

“I don’t like the thunder and lightning.”

Spencer wraps an arm around you, and you cling to his side with your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulls you into a peaceful sleep despite the booming thunder outside. Spencer feels safe. You like being in his arms.

Spencer runs a hand down your back softly, unable to sleep. His guilt is so heavy on his chest. How is he supposed to go through with this plan and not hurt you in the process? How can he take down your father and keep you at the same time? He knows he should stay away from you, but he can’t. He really likes you.

It would be his luck that he finally finds a girl he’s crazy about, and he can’t even have her. You’re gonna kill him when you figure out why he’s really here, and he’s not prepared for that.

x

Elenya paced excitedly up and down her living room. Her thoughts kept circling back to the new piece of clothing in her wardrobe.

She’d picked it up from Carol’s this morning and hadn’t been able to think of anything else since.

Hanging there was a cream-coloured dress, with delicate green tendrils winding their way across the skirt and the long sleeves. Carol had done a truly wonderful job. She could hardly believe it when she tried it on this morning. It fit her like a glove and made her eyes sparkle.

And in three days she would wear it to marry Arlo!

She could barely wait anymore. Even here, alone in her home, a small giddy giggle left her at the thought. They had been together for more than two years now and she couldn't imagine a life without him anymore.

He made everything so much better.

Waking up next to him every day, having breakfast with him, and simply knowing that he would always be there felt like a dream. A dream that would soon come true.

A knock at the door snapped her out of her daydreams. Wondering who could possibly want to see her so late, she opened the door. Cold winter air hit her face and her eyes fell on Sam, who was looking at her with a serious expression.

Elenya’s heart sank.

Sam hated being serious. Her friend always preferred to see everything light-hearted. As long as nothing really bad had happened, she was always relaxed.

"Sam! What… what are you doing here?" No sooner had Elenya asked the question than she wished she could take it back. Even though she knew Sam wouldn’t hold it against her, she felt terribly rude.

"Hey Elenya…"

A heavy weight settled in her stomach. Sam never called her by her name.

"Sorry to disturb you this late, but…" Sam hesitated. Something that was also very unlike her. She never had any qualms about saying exactly what she thought.

Elenya’s unease grew.

"I'm not sure how to tell you." Sam's voice broke. "Arlo, he… Remington brought him back. He got hurt. Badly."

The words left her reeling. Stunned, she stared into her friend's pale green eyes, which held a mixture of anger and fear.

Arlo was…?

Her brain couldn't process the words. She knew that Arlo had set off for Ingall's Mine with Remi that morning. The last time she had been there, she had found a new opening that hadn't been visible until then. The two of them wanted to explore this new area to decide whether it was safe enough for adventurers and could be opened up.

And now he was…?

Everything inside her froze. Her knees threatened to give way beneath her. She clung desperately to the doorframe with one hand, while everything inside her resisted the truth.

Arlo couldn’t be hurt. He was Arlo, captain of the Civil Corps. The strongest fighter in Portia.

Just this morning, before he left, he had kissed her. Had promised to take her out for breakfast tomorrow. They were going to get married in three days.

The winter air seeped through her thin clothes, but she didn't notice. The cold matched the numbness spreading through her.

A hand settled on her shoulder and gently steered her back into the house. Shortly after, Sam pressed her boots and winter coat into her hands. Mechanically, Elenya put them on.

No sooner had Elenya zipped up her jacket than Sam grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of the house. The door clicked shut behind them, and the soft thud finally snapped Elenya out of her stupor.

Dazed, she stumbled after Sam, who led her purposefully towards the clinic. All the while, one desperate question after another raced through her mind.

How bad was Arlo hurt? Did he have a head injury? Would he recover?

There was just one question she was desperately trying to keep out of her mind.

Was he even still alive?

Every time, she immediately pushed the thought away. Otherwise, despair would have overwhelmed her.

They met Remington in front of the clinic. He was pacing back and forth anxiously, his green hair tousled and his jacket covered in dried blood.

Elenya felt sick at the sight.

Was that Arlo's blood?

"Remi! What happened? Why are you out here?", Sam asked as soon as they reached him.

Startled, Remi turned towards them, his brown eyes wide open. His gaze darted from Sam to her, lingering on her.

A mix of emotions swirled behind his eyes, but Elenya couldn’t make sense of them. She was far too caught up in her own feelings.

Remington swallowed hard. "Dr. Xu sent me out." His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't talked in a while — or as if he had cried. "He… he needs space to work."

"What happened?", Sam repeated, her voice low.

Remi opened his mouth, then closed it again. His gaze drifted briefly towards Elenya, almost as if he wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell her.

“He pushed me out of the way.” The words came slowly, with difficulty. “I was… momentarily distracted when the robot lunged at me. Arlo reacted before I even knew what was happening.”

Elenya somehow wasn't surprised. Saving someone's life without even thinking about it was Arlo's second nature.

What surprised her, however, was that Remi was distracted in the middle of the fight. That didn't sound like him at all. In desperate need of a distraction, her thoughts turned entirely to this fact.

Her eyes finally took in his entire appearance. Whilst she made a conscious effort to ignore the bloodstains on his clothes, she noticed his posture. Not only was he clearly leaning more heavily on his good knee, but he was also holding his right arm pressed unnaturally stiffly against his stomach.

But before she could voice her concern, Sam spoke up again.

"Remi, what's with your arm?" Her eyes were fixed intently on his arm.

"Oh, that…" A single glance from Sam was enough, and Remi seemed to reconsider his answer.

“The robot hit my elbow… I don’t think anything’s broken, but moving it hurts a bit.”

Sam lifted one eyebrow. "Did that happen by any chance just before Arlo shoved you out of the way?"

A slight nod, followed by a quiet "He saved my life," was his reply.

"Oh Remi…" Elenya whispered, and she crossed the few steps that separated her from her friend. Her concern for him momentarily overshadowed her fear for Arlo, and she was grateful to have something to do.

Searching his gaze, she added, "You’ve done everything you could. Please promise me you’ll get Dr. Xu to have a look at your elbow as soon as Arlo has been treated."

A brief hesitation, then a weary nod. “I promise.”

Silence followed his words.

Sam silently leaned against the clinic wall, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the floor. Beside her, Remi slowly slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, resting his injured arm carefully on his knee.

Elenya thought about joining them, but her inner restlessness forced her to move. She started to pace; it was the only way she could keep herself from breaking down.

There was nothing they could do but wait.

~~~~~~

Elenya couldn't tell how long they waited in front of the clinic. But when the door finally opened, the sun had fully set and the moon was rising on the horizon.

Snapped out of their thoughts, they all turned towards the clinic, where an exhausted Dr. Xu was standing in the doorway. With a deep sigh, he beckoned them into the warm interior of the clinic, and without hesitation they followed him.

Elenya didn't know what to think. While they waited, she had been able to suppress her feelings, but now they came flooding back all at once.

The worry. The fear. The uncertainty.

What would be waiting for her?

Clearing his throat, Dr. Xu began to speak. "First things first: He is stable for now."

A collective sigh of relief echoed through the room.

“He has a laceration on his head and a deep wound on his left side. We’ve treated both and the bleeding has stopped.” Dr Xu paused briefly, as if weighing up his next words. “The next few hours will be crucial. He needs rest and to be monitored – but things are looking good at the moment.”

Elenya's knees threatened to give out on her.

Arlo was alive and he would recover.

Relieved, tears filled her eyes and she had to swallow before she could ask her question. "Can I… can we see him?"

"Of course. Phyllis should be done with cleaning up." With a welcoming gesture, Dr. Xu pointed towards the room divider that screened off the hospital bed at the back.

Carefully, Elenya took a step towards the room divider, suddenly unsure if she would be able to handle the sight of Arlo. What will he look like?

A soft push to her back made her take another step. Confused, she turned around to Sam, who smiled at her encouragingly. "Go on. We'll be right with you."

Gathering all her courage, Elenya took the last few remaining steps that separated her from Arlo. With a deep breath, she stepped around the room divider, where Phyllis was just tucking Arlo in.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Her brain had trouble connecting the Arlo she saw before her with the one she knew. Arlo had always been the very picture of strength – upright, alert, unshakeable. Seeing him so still and vulnerable felt… wrong.

His face was completely pale, almost as white as the pillow he rested on. Deep shadows lay beneath his eyes, whilst a white bandage wrapped around his head stood in stark contrast to his red hair.

His arms were draped over the blanket, allowing her to see the IV in the crook of his arm. A clear fluid was running through it. Finally, her gaze fell on the cables running from his chest to a monitoring device at his side. A faint beeping sound was coming from it.

Dr. Xu hadn’t had the device for long, but she knew what it was showing. Arlo’s heart was beating. He was alive.

Approaching hesitantly, she sank into the chair by his bed. Phyllis gave her an encouraging smile before stepping back, but Elenya barely noticed.

Gently, as if she might break him, she took his hand in hers — and froze. Instead of the usual warmth, she was met with coldness, and her heart clenched painfully. For the first time, the reality of what had happened truly hit her.

Arlo was hurt. He won't be there kissing her good night. Wouldn't greet her tomorrow morning with a soft smile. He didn't even know she was here.

A single tear ran over her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. She didn't want to cry now. Not when everyone could see her.

She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there like that — warming his cold hand between hers, whilst she watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. But at some point, a small hand settled on her shoulder and, taken by surprise, she looked up into Sam’s green eyes.

"Looks like our stubborn captain won't be taken down any time soon." Sam gave her an encouraging wink before saying goodbye. She wanted to find Gale and tell him what had happened.

Shortly after Sam had left, Remi joined her. He was wearing nothing but a T-shirt, his right arm resting in a sling. A thick bandage was wrapped around his elbow, and Elenya realised with a pang of guilt that she had momentarily forgotten about his injury.

But she was glad that he had kept his promise.

"Hey, how's your elbow?"

"Oh, thankfully nothing’s broken. According to Dr. Xu, it’s just a minor hairline fracture, which will hopefully heal quickly. How are you holding up?" Remi pulled up a second chair while she thought about his question.

How could she describe the emotional chaos she was feeling?

"I… I don't know." For a moment she stared at Arlo's hand before she turned her gaze back to Remi. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Well, actually, we didn’t come across anything out of the ordinary at first. Just tunnel worms and the odd mutant. The tunnel you found is quite long, but there aren’t any other branches. We’d been going for a while before we came across a larger cave…"

Remi fixed Arlo with a heavy gaze; once again, there was that mixture of emotions in his eyes that Elenya couldn’t quite make sense of.

"There was a Rock-On robot in the cave. Like the one we fought when the tunnel collapsed. You remember, don’t you?"

Elenya nodded. She didn’t even have to think about it. Even two years later, she could still remember the panic. When no one knew whether Arlo and the others were buried under all those stones.

Back then it had taken four of them to bring down the robot. And now only the two of them had been there to fight it?

"Actually, we wanted to fall back. Get reinforcements. We now know how to defeat the AI, but we didn’t want to take any risks. Unfortunately, it spotted us before we could…"

Remi’s expression told her that he was back there again. In the cave, with the robot.

"I don’t know how, but we were getting the better of it. We’d already exposed its energy core when it happened. A well-aimed blow to my elbow made me drop my hammer, and then suddenly he was there. Arlo…"

Devastated, Remi buried his face in his left hand, his next words reaching her in a muffled whisper. “I’m so sorry, Elenya. I should have been more careful. The robot’s claw hit him right in the side and I…”

A different kind of sadness washed over Elenya.

"Oh, Remi…" She took one hand away from Arlo and placed it comfortingly on Remi’s shoulder. "It’s not your fault. What were you supposed to do? You were injured. And you know what Arlo’s like."

Slowly, Remi lifted his head, his reddened eyes falling on her. Her heart sank. She had never seen the gentle man so distraught.

“I’m not angry with you. On the contrary. You brought Arlo back. He’s safe and will be back on his feet.” She spoke these words to comfort Remi, but also to herself.

Her heart wasn’t quite ready to believe it yet, but it seemed to help Remi. Some of the tension eased from his face and he looked back at Arlo thoughtfully.

“Thank you, Elenya. Your big heart never ceases to surprise me.”

Instead of replying, Elenya gave his shoulder a brief squeeze before gently taking Arlo’s hand in hers once more.

They sat there quietly side by side for a while, until Remi said goodbye with a wide yawn. It was already late, and he too needed all the rest he could get. Elenya remained alone at Arlo’s side, while Dr. Xu quietly tidied up the clinic in the background.

Shortly before midnight, he came back to the bedside to check on Arlo one last time. Satisfied with the results, he too retired to the small adjoining room that the two doctors could use to rest.

To her relief, he didn’t ask her to go home.

With a soft click, the door closed behind Dr. Xu and suddenly Elenya was all alone with Arlo. The clinic lay silent around her, only the monotonous beeping of the heart monitor filling the room. She had stopped consciously noticing it, but now, in the silence of the night, it was all she could hear.

It was proof that Arlo was still alive, yet at the same time the sound weighed heavily on her. He shouldn’t have to be hooked up to a machine like that.

The whole situation was closing in on her. Without a distraction, she could no longer hold back her tears, and with a quiet sob, she gave in to her despair.

She buried her face in her arms beside his hand and let her tears flow freely.

Time slipped by until she suddenly felt something tickling her left cheek. It took a moment for her to notice it, but the pressure grew stronger and stronger, and the tickling turned into a gentle caress.

Then a voice she hadn’t expected suddenly spoke up. “Hey, why are you crying?”

It was quiet and rough, but she would have recognised that voice anywhere. Her head shot up, a sharp throb of pain following the movement, and her gaze darted up to Arlo’s face.

Half-open, warm blue eyes met hers, and it took her brain a moment to process what she was seeing. Arlo had spoken. And he was looking at her. His eyes looked glassy, yet his gaze was gentle, and a small smile played on his lips.

"Arlo…" Her voice broke on that single word and, overcome by a fresh wave of emotion, she threw herself as gently as she could against his chest, while new sobs shook her shoulders.

Arlo’s right arm wrapped weakly around her back, holding her close as his gentle voice reached her ear. "Shh, it’s all right. I’m here."

But instead of calming her down, those words only made her cry even more. For what felt like an eternity, she had thought she might never hear that voice again.

Another broken "Arlo…" escaped her lips. Her tears soaked through his light hospital gown, while his thumb traced gentle circles on her back.

"I’m here, sweetheart. I’ve got you."

It took her a long time to get her emotions under control. But when her tears had finally dried up, she pulled away from his chest. The arm that had been resting gently on her back fell limply back onto the bed. Quickly, Elenya took Arlo’s hand in hers again and squeezed it gently.

Arlo returned the squeeze and smiled at her tiredly. With lips still trembling, she returned his smile.

"How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" Seeking more contact, she placed her right hand on his cheek and stroked gently beneath his eye. Closing his eyes, Arlo leaned into the touch while he thought about her question.

"Quite well, actually. I suppose Dr Xu gave me the good stuff." He tried to give her a crooked smile, but she could see how much energy it was costing him. Worried, she leaned over him and gave him a gentle kiss on his bandaged forehead.

"You should try to get some more sleep. You need to rest."

She could see the protest rising in his half-open eyes, so she added, "Please. For me."

As expected, the words had the desired effect. He sighed and his expression softened.

"I’ll try. But only if you go home and get some rest too. I’ll still be here tomorrow."

Blushing, she looked down at their clasped hands. She had actually intended to stay awake all night by his side, but as always, he knew her too well.

"I’ll give it a try." This time, a crooked smile played on her lips, and her reply was met with a faint chuckle. The familiar sound settled something inside her.

With a heavy heart, she said goodbye to Arlo and pulled her winter clothes back on. Just as she was about to leave, Arlo’s voice rang out once more.

“Remi… is he okay?” His eyes didn’t open, but the worry was etched on his face. Reassuringly, she stroked his hair and pressed a long kiss against his temple.

"Don’t worry. He’s fine. Sleep well, my love." With one last glance back, which told her that Arlo had already fallen asleep again, she left the clinic.

~~~~~~

Once outside, she took a deep breath. The crisp, cold winter air helped ease the headache brought on by her tears and calm her racing thoughts. Even so, she found it hard to walk away from the clinic — from Arlo.

Her gaze fell on the Civil Corps headquarters next to her. Suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion, an idea crept into her mind.

Maybe she could lie down in Arlo’s bed for the night? He certainly wouldn’t mind.

The longer she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. Having made up her mind, she walked purposefully towards the large orange door and opened it quietly. She didn’t want to wake Remi.

She tiptoed just as quietly to Arlo’s room. With a soft click, the door closed behind her and for a moment she leaned against it. In the dim moonlight, she could make out the room in front of her, along with the usual chaos that filled it.

Arlo was very tidy when it came to his work, but in the privacy of his room he wasn’t so strict. His clothes, in particular, had a tendency to end up strewn everywhere. With a gentle smile, she noticed the single sock hanging over the end of his bed and his trainers lying carelessly in one of the corners.

Then her gaze fell on the chair standing by the small table. Hanging over the backrest was a sweater that looked very familiar to her. Even in the dim light, she could make out its grey colour, and without realising it, she moved closer to the chair. Almost automatically, she reached for the garment and buried her fingers in the soft fabric.

It was indeed her favourite sweater, the one she liked to steal from him from time to time.

Without giving it much thought, she took it over to the bed. She shed all her uncomfortable clothes and slipped the sweater on. Instantly, she was enveloped in its warmth and Arlo’s soothing scent filled her senses. With a deep sigh, she buried her nose in the collar. The scent brought her comfort, yet at the same time filled her with heaviness.

More than anything, she wished Arlo were here with her.

Even so, she hoped that the familiarity would help her fall asleep. With a big yawn, she snuggled into Arlo’s bed, where she was enveloped even more by his scent. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep; she was simply too exhausted.

Unfortunately, sleep offered little comfort.

Images of Arlo filled her dreams. Arlo being knocked down. Hordes of robots overwhelming him. Arlo lying on the ground, covered in blood. All she could do was watch helplessly. She couldn’t move; she couldn’t help him.

When his heart stopped beating, she woke with a scream.

Breathing heavily, she sat up in bed, while outside the first rays of sunlight were just beginning to appear. Tears ran down her cheeks and, with a sob, she buried her face in her hands.

It was only a dream. Just a dream. Arlo was fine.

But she found it hard to calm down. She had to see him.

As quickly as she could, she pulled on her trousers and slipped into her winter jacket and boots. She kept Arlo’s sweater on. She couldn’t bear to part with it.

She left headquarters at a brisk pace and walked over to the clinic. Her heart was still racing, and her hands wouldn't stop trembling.

But when she entered the clinic, the relief she'd hoped for never came. Instead of finding Arlo sleeping peacefully, she was met with chaos.

Dr. Xu and Phyllis stood at his bedside, speaking in low, worried voices while Dr. Xu examined the wound in Arlo's side.

What had happened?

~~~~~~

Almost an hour passed before Elenya was finally able to sit down by Arlo’s side. Despite being carefully cleaned, his wound had become infected overnight and a high fever had taken hold of his body. Dr. Xu had struggled to bring Arlo’s temperature down, but at least he was no longer in a critical condition.

The next few days blurred into a single, long moment of uncertainty.

She spent every waking minute by his side. She cooled his hot forehead with a cold cloth, held his feverish hand and told him stories from her childhood. Sometimes his eyes opened, but the familiar blue of his eyes was clouded, and he never seemed to recognise what was happening around him. The fever held him captive.

These moments were the worst for Elenya. She had never seen Arlo like this before, and his glazed stare frightened her. What if he couldn’t overcome the fever?

The worry and stress weighed on her stomach like a stone. Sam and Remi regularly tried to get her to eat something, but she could barely keep anything down. Even water made her feel sick.

She knew her friends were worried about her. Every evening they forced her to leave Arlo’s side and get at least a few hours’ sleep.

But sleep... sleep was almost worse than being awake.

Every night she would lie down in Arlo’s room, grateful that Ack had offered to look after the workshop and the animals for the next few days. But even with Arlo’s comforting scent, the nightmares returned every night.

She could barely sleep more than a few hours a night before waking up screaming again. Only the feel of Arlo's hand in hers could chase the images away.

Three days had now passed since the fever had taken hold of Arlo. According to Dr. Xu, the infection had finally subsided and he was confident that the fever would soon break as well. Elenya hoped he was right.

She could feel the last few days catching up with her. Her eyes were burning, her hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and she no longer knew where the nausea was coming from.

It was midday when Remi arrived at the clinic and came to stand by her side. She knew why he was there. Over the last few days, he had been even more persistent than Sam about getting her to eat and rest. But try as she might, she just couldn’t manage it.

A large hand rested on her shoulder and wearily she looked up.

“Hey, how’s he doing today?” Remi’s gaze rested on Arlo with concern and, with a sigh, Elenya followed his gaze.

“Better. According to Dr. Xu, the infection has finally subsided. He suspects the fever should break soon too.”

“That’s good to hear.” A brief, heavy silence fell. “Can I perhaps persuade you to have lunch with me, then?” She felt his hopeful gaze upon her.

A struggle raged within her. The desire not to leave Arlo fought against every aching part of her that was begging for food and sleep.

For a moment, she let her gaze wander over Arlo. His face, which had been so pale over the last few days, had regained a little colour. His features were relaxed, and she had the impression that his breathing had deepened too.

He was getting better. Surely she could leave him alone for a moment?

She also couldn't help thinking about how disappointed he would be if he woke up and found out she hadn't been taking care of herself. She didn’t want to do that to him.

Having finally made up her mind, she said aloud: “Okay. I… I’ll come with you.”

The relief on Remi’s face was immediate. With one last gentle squeeze, Elenya released her hand from Arlo’s and rose from the chair. Remi made way for her so she could walk ahead of him.

But she didn’t get very far. After just two steps, the room began to spin. Her knees buckled before she even realised what was happening. A loud roaring filled her ears and dark spots crept into her vision.

She only vaguely felt an arm trying to catch her and someone calling her name in horror. Even before her head touched the floor, everything went black.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A faint beeping reached Arlo’s ears.

The rhythm sounded familiar to him.

Slowly, as if his brain had to relearn how to function, consciousness returned. With it came a dull throbbing in his side and a heavy ache in his limbs.

The clinic. He was in the clinic.

A memory surfaced in his mind. Elenya, sitting beside him, her head buried in the mattress, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. His heart clenched painfully at the image.

Something told him that this had been more than just a few hours ago.

With difficulty, he managed to open his heavy eyelids. He got blinded by bright light, but he resisted the urge to close his eyes again. He had to know what had happened.

As soon as he could finally make out anything, he was surprised to see Remi first, pacing restlessly at the foot of his bed. His green hair was completely tousled, and Arlo noticed with concern that his right arm was resting in a sling.

Another memory surfaced in Arlo’s mind. Remi dropping his hammer with a cry of pain after the robot struck his elbow. And himself, pushing Remi out of the way just as the robot swung in for a fatal blow.

What happened after that, he couldn’t say. The next memory was of Elenya. How much time had passed?

He was just about to try to say Remi’s name when the latter’s gaze wandered absently over him. For a brief moment, he kept walking, until he suddenly stopped and his head snapped back towards him.

With his eyes wide open, Remi stared at him for a moment, until a disbelieving "Arlo!" escaped his lips.

He quickly crossed the few steps to the bed, his eyes full of relief.

"You’re awake! How are you?"

Instead of an answer, only a hoarse croak escaped Arlo's lips. It quickly turned into a coughing fit, sending a sharp pain shooting through his left side.

With a groan, he instinctively tried to roll onto his side, but a hand on his shoulder held him back.

“Wait! Don’t move. Here, have a sip of water.” The hand slipped from his shoulder and, moments later, held a glass to his lips instead.

Gratefully, Arlo drank the wonderfully cold water and the coughing soon subsided. Breathing heavily, he lay still for a moment until the pain receded back into a dull throbbing. Gratefully, he turned to Remi, who was just placing the glass back on the side table.

"Thanks. What… what happened?" His voice was still completely hoarse and raspy, but at least he didn’t have to cough anymore.

“What do you remember?”

“We… we were in Ingall’s Mine?” Remi nodded at his questioning look. “There was one of those robots. It had spotted us before we could retreat. You were hit and I… I…” Arlo wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say.

He just reacted?

“You saved my life, Arlo, and put your own at risk in the process.” Remi’s gaze rested heavily and guiltily on Arlo’s left side.

Unconsciously, Arlo followed his gaze. Of course, he couldn’t see anything through the blanket, and the pain didn’t tell him how badly he’d actually been hit. Had it really been that close?

"What exactly happened? And how… how long was I out?" Unsure whether he even wanted to know the answer, he looked back up at Remi.

"The robot caught you in the side. Fortunately, no vital organs were damaged, but you lost a lot of blood. But… that very night your wound became infected and you developed a high fever. It’s now been almost four days."

It took Arlo’s sluggish mind a moment before he realised the full implications of Remi’s words.

Four days! He’d lost a whole four days!

Oh God, what was with Elenya? How worried must she have been? Where was she?

And then it hit him like a blow.

Their wedding! He’d missed their wedding!

A rush of adrenaline shot through his body and, startled, he sat up. “Elenya! Where is she? Our wedding! She…”

Breathing heavily, he looked around the clinic, but Remi was standing right in front of him, trying to gently but firmly push him back into bed. Arlo tried to resist, but even with the adrenaline, he didn’t have the strength to do so.

“Arlo, calm down. Please lie down. You’ll rip your stitches open!”

Desperately, Arlo looked up at Remi after he had fallen back onto the pillows, exhausted. “Remi, where’s Elenya? Is she all right?”

But instead of an answer, Remi’s gaze filled with a mixture of worry and guilt. “I’m so sorry, Arlo. I… I should have looked after her better. I tried, but she…”

Panic welled up inside Arlo. What had happened to Elenya? Was she hurt?

He tried to sit up again to look for her, but his body wouldn’t obey him. His trembling arms buckled under his weight, and this time a dull pain shot through his head.

“Remi, what's wrong with Elenya?” he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

Remi didn’t answer. His expression darkened as he slowly folded up the room divider.

And then Arlo could finally see the rest of the clinic.

Dr. Xu stood by the second hospital bed, his gaze focused as he inserted an IV into the crook of a patient’s arm. With the bed positioned so that the headboard faced him, he couldn’t make out much, but he would recognize that black hair sticking out over the edge of the bed anywhere.

Elenya…

“I’m so sorry, Arlo. I really did try to get her to eat and drink. But she couldn’t keep anything down because she was so worried about you. She’s been sleeping in your room, and I could hear her waking up screaming every night…”

Remi ran a hand through his already messy hair in frustration. “Earlier, just before you woke up, she’d finally agreed to have lunch with me, but before we’d even reached the door, she suddenly collapsed right in front of me…”

For a long moment, Arlo said nothing at all. His gaze was fixed on Elenya as Remi’s words slowly sank in.

She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t slept. She’d been so worried about him that at some point her own body simply couldn’t take it any more.

Because of him.

A familiar feeling welled up inside him – guilt, heavy and oppressive. He swallowed hard.

“How is she?” His voice came out quieter than he’d intended.

Instead of Remi’s voice, it was suddenly Dr. Xu who spoke, his focus shifting from Elenya to Arlo. “Her body is completely exhausted and dehydrated. But with plenty of rest and the fluids I’m administering intravenously, she should be back on her feet soon.”

With that, he finally turned away from Elenya and walked over to Arlo’s bedside.

“I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?” Dr. Xu’s dark eyes scanned Arlo with concern, but his thoughts were still fixed on Elenya.

His heart ached at the thought of what she must have been through over the last few days. She had been suffering, and he hadn’t been there — he had been the reason for it.

"Arlo?" Dr. Xu stepped into his line of sight, blocking his view of Elenya. That finally snapped him out of his thoughts, and tired, he looked up at the doctor.

It took him a moment before the questions returned. “No, I…” His voice failed him. A wave of exhaustion crashed over him, the excitement finally catching up to his weakened body.

Arlo tried to fight it, but his eyes closed on their own. His limbs felt heavy as lead, and moments later the world slipped back into darkness.

~~~~~~

The next time Arlo woke up, the soft beeping had stopped. Instead, the clinic lay in complete silence. He could only hear the faint rustling of paper, but it was muffled, as if coming from behind a door.

He opened his eyes with difficulty and was greeted by the dim light of the clinic. A glance outside told him that it was already dark.

He must have been asleep for a few more hours.

His gaze darted around the room and he was surprised to find that the second hospital bed had been moved so that Elenya was now lying next to him, not far away. At last he could see her fully.

She was lying on her back, a thick blanket spread over her. The IV in her left arm was gone; only a plaster still hinted that a needle had been there.

Her black hair was tied back in a loose plait, giving him a clear view of her face. And what he saw stabbed at his heart once more.

Deep shadows lay beneath her eyes; her cheeks were pale and looked sunken. Even her lips had lost their rosy hue. She looked terribly fragile, and he simply wanted to take her in his arms, protect her from everything bad.

But he couldn’t. A dull ache in his side warned him not to even try to sit up. It was going to be a frustrating few weeks.

He watched Elenya silently, calming his thoughts with the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. He didn’t know how much time had passed when suddenly a soft murmur came from her direction.

Holding his breath, Arlo watched as first her fingers twitched slightly, before her eyelids began to flutter. He could see the confusion on her face as she looked up at the clinic ceiling, but he didn’t want to startle her by speaking.

Slowly, she freed herself from the grip of her exhausted sleep and her eyes scanned the room. Twice her eyes passed over him, not seeing that he was looking back.

It wasn’t until the third time that she suddenly paused, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Arlo!” she cried hoarsely, staring at him with her mouth agape.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Arlo smiled gently at her, his voice no less hoarse than hers.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she hurriedly tried to get out of bed. But her body was still exhausted. Before she was even fully upright, she sank back onto the mattress with a groan, and Arlo needed all his willpower not to get up and help her.

“Slowly, sweetheart. I’m here. Take your time.” He watched with concern as her eyes squeezed shut, her hands tightening in the blanket. She was probably dizzy.

To his relief, she listened to him, and on the second attempt she got up much more slowly. Taking cautious steps, she crossed the few steps between them and threw herself carefully into his arms.

Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her back as quiet sobs shook her shoulders.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’m here. It’s going to be okay.” He gently stroked her head, tears welling up in his own eyes. It broke his heart to hear his beloved Elenya sobbing so desperately.

“Arlo… I… I was so scared.” Her voice broke with almost every word.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. But everything will be alright.” As best he could, he tightened his grip around her, even though his muscles wouldn’t obey him. He never wanted to let her go again.

Elenya cried for a long time before she was finally able to calm down. Arlo didn’t let go of her for a moment, murmuring soothing words to her. When the last tear had finally dried, she slowly pulled away from him and sank down, exhausted, onto the chair beside the bed.

Trembling, she placed her hand in his, and Arlo was only too happy to take it. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, grateful that they still had the chance to do so.

She was the first to break the silence. “How are you? How long have you been awake? Are you in any pain?” She looked at him with concern, the soft green of her eyes highlighted by her reddened eyelids.

Arlo squeezed her hand reassuringly and smiled gently at her. “I’m all right. I can’t feel much. But how are you? I was awake earlier, and a very shaken Remi told me what happened.”

Elenya’s gaze fell on their clasped hands and a faint blush rose to her pale cheeks. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey.” He waited patiently until she looked at him. His gaze was gentle, but serious. “You don’t need to apologise. But you gave me — and especially Remi — quite a fright. I’m sorry you had to suffer so much because of me.”

The silence between them hung heavy as his feelings of guilt resurfaced. How on earth could he make up for everything? He’d missed their wedding!

“Oh, Arlo.” She gently squeezed his hand. “There’s nothing to apologise for. I know what you’re like, and I love you just the same. You saved Remi’s life. Of course I was worried — but I would never blame you for this.”

“I’m still so sorry.” He swallowed hard. “I… I even missed our wedding.”

She looked at him in confusion, which confused him too.

Had she forgotten about the wedding?

Suddenly, her eyes flew wide and she brought a hand to her mouth. "Oh God… the wedding… I didn’t even think about it…"

Instead of reassuring him, her words only deepened Arlo’s guilt. Was she so worried about him that she had even forgotten their wedding? It had been all she had thought about for weeks. He, too, had found it almost impossible to contain his anticipation over the last few weeks.

He didn’t know what his face showed; he was too exhausted to control his expression. But whatever Elenya saw made her stand up and lean over him.

Gently, she placed her small hand on his cheek and he instantly nestled into the warm touch. She looked down at him with love, and he was captivated by her gaze.

“Arlo. My love. I love you, okay? No missed wedding will change that. We can have it anytime. The only thing that matters is that we’re both here. Please don’t blame yourself.”

Her lips pressed warmly against his, and he was only too happy to return the gentle kiss. It took all his strength, but he managed to bury his right hand in her hair. Holding her close.

Their kiss deepened, full of all the emotions of the past hours and days. The fear, worry, despair and relief discharged themselves in that moment, until only love remained.

When they were out of breath, Elenya pulled back slightly, but didn’t move away. Instead, she gently rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed with exhaustion. He, too, could feel his body crying out for sleep.

Trembling, he moved his right hand from her hair to her cheek and gently stroked the deep circles under her eyes. “You’re exhausted.”

“I’m fine. I… I just need a moment.” Her words brushed softly and warmly against his lips as her body leaned more and more against him. She was definitely not fine.

“Come on, lie down with me. I think we both need a bit of sleep.”

As best he could, he slid over to one side, ignoring the pain in his left side. Without much protest, Elenya climbed onto the bed beside him. Her head found its usual place on his shoulder and her leg entwined with his.

With his last ounce of strength, he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her as close to him as he could. Something inside him found peace. His little builder was safe in his arms, and tonight he would finally be able to protect her from her nightmares.

“Sleep well, sweetheart. I love you.”