Waiting For The Sun To Come
Shit. Kal.
He bowed his head for a moment, eyes cast to his fists, clenched tight against the blue fabric of his uniform slacks. He could feel his flask on his hip, the cool silver taunting him, teasing him with promises of numbness and a way to make his own memories go away, to make the sudden aching in his chest for the woman he’d come to care so deeply for dull.
She didn’t have to say it, he could see it in what she couldn’t speak, in how she curled inwards, pride and dignity barring her from exposing what she felt was a grievous wrong on her part, her own inability causing it and not anything else.
He looked up at her finally, his mouth pulled into a firm line and his eyes hard, determined. He cupped her chin with his hand, gently tugging her to look him in the eyes. ” What have I told you about being an idiot?” his words were harsh but his tone soft, full of guilt and regret. “Anyone one can be- taken advantage of like that. It doesn’t make you weak.” He swallowed, his throat dry. “If you had fought back, they would have killed you. You did- You’re alive. That’s all the matters. Survival of the fittest, remember?”
“Now- I need to take care of your wounds and clean you up as best I can. Will you let me?” He asked, determined not to do anything to frighten her needlessly or make her feel further violated.
Don’t you give up on me.
Sig began pulling out his own first aid kit, laying the contents out upon the snow. He knew enough first aid training from his younger years to be able to help stop the bleeding for now, but they were going to have to get both of the women to a doctor fast, or they weren’t going to make it.
That thought terrified Sig- his wife was everything to him, and the thought of going on without her was absolutely horrifying to think about. No one knew him as well as she did, and though he knew that eventually, one day they would be parted, they would have had notice, they would have had time to say goodbye.
If it happened today…
No. It won’t.
He pushed up her clothes so that he could tend to he gunshot wound first. HE didn’t blanch at the sight of her injuries, but inwardly he was seething, declaring death to those foolish enough to harm her.
He could hear the Captain talking, and he tried to tune it out. The poor girl had already been through so much, she didn’t need another listening in on such a private moment.
Sig began to disinfect the gunshot wound, dabbing at it with antispetic carefully. “Izumi, what happened?” he asked softly.Izumi found the burn of the antiseptic to be strangely comforting as she thought about what had happened,and where she could begin.
“Karla went missing.” Her eyebrows pulled together with the worry she felt when it happened,her voice staying cool and collected. “I tried to play hero and failed.”
In reality,she was the one that had gotten them in in this mess.If she’d been successful in getting Karla out of there,none of this would have happened. Neither of them would be covered in wounds and neither of them would have had the pyscological breakdown if she had gotten them out.
It was her fault that she didn’t get them out at first.
Izumi winced when her husband brushed over a certain spot on her stomach. “Thry put a number on us,didn’t they?” She laugh humorlessly,unsure of what else to tell him.
Her body could tell its own story.
Karla hesitated a moment, then nodded her head at him. “Survival of the fittest,” she mumbled. “I only stayed alive because I knew I couldn’t die there… There’s no way I’m dying on any land but Amestrian… I can’t die right now…”
She looked up at him, not bothering to wipe the tears from her eyes this time. “I’m not going to die now, am I? I’m afraid of it… I don’t want to die. Not here. Not like this. Don’t let me…”
She looked back down at herself and pulled open the coat again so Buccaneer could take care of her. Her legs remained together though; she wasn’t going to do anything with them unless he told her to.
“I didn’t traipse through the snow and wind just to let you die, Kal. We’re both too damn stubborn for that, right?” He smirked at her, even as he opened the first aid kit and took out the antiseptic, poured some on a cloth and began to clean her wounds.
Lashes, cuts, brand marks… Its all seem to blend together, in a chaotic blend of blemished skin and blood and red, and he was glad that she wasn’t yet ready to let him look at her worst injury of all, one more mental then physical, but all the more scarring because of it. He knew they would both have to deal with it, eventually, but for the moment…
” You remember that first night, when we got smashed in that shitty little bar?” He said, trying to keep her awake, keep her conscious, keep her distracted.
Keep himself distracted as he tended to the woman he cared for, as he worked over her bruised and broken body.
“The two of you got out, that’s all that matter, sweetheart.” He said firmly, looking up from what he was doing to catch her eyes. He continued to clean her wounds, feeling a surge of rage as he began to work on the brands. The melted, twisted flesh was sure to scar, and would be a constant reminder of the horror Izumi had experienced.
He was a pacifist, but when it came to his wife’s well-being… Well, the Drachmans were lucky that he had more pressing concerns than their heads on a spit.
He just nodded, smiling encouragingly at her. ” Did you give them hell on the way out?”
