The shrouds of a shrill scream echoed in the thick air, alerting any functioning ear surrounding it, that mystery still escaped from their brain. They rushed towards it.
Char stopped. Then, with a gasp, he sprinted back to where he left Fawn. She lay on the rough, tan ground, blood mingling with the dirt surrounding her.
“Fawn!” he cried, rushing to her side. He gazed at her helplessly as she murmured something unintelligent.
Finally, thinking quickly, he lifted her up and took her to a building he'd vowed never to enter. Standing just outside the mansion, he braced himself and opened the door.
Dust settled in a fine, thick layer on all the furniture and floors, which hadn't been touched in years. An all too familiar hallway stretched before him, its walls echoing dark secrets of his past. Gathering his thoughts, he quietly shut the door behind him and walked in, trying to convince himself nothing had happened.
Char knew his way around. Dreams of this place haunted him ever since, and it seemed like a nightmare coming to life, and only just realizing the dawning feeling that it's not the same.
Staggering at the sight, Char gripped onto the table next to him, before he looked at it in horror and stepped away. Only dust ruined the perfection the room gleamed. All traces of the blood that had been spilled here was gone. His blood. All clean. And the table...the table that the glass had broken on and given themselves away. The corner where his brother died. The door next to where he had been stabbed.
A soft, high-pitched sound brought him back to the present. Looking down, Char realized Fawn was coming around. “Hi,” he said awkwardly when she fixed her eyes on him.
“H-home...?” the tiny, barely audible sound escaped from her mouth.
“Yeah. Don't worry. I'm going to take care of you.”
Fawn's eyes wandered around the room. After a few moments, her eyes faxed on his again. Char raised his eyebrows in question.
“Oh. Oh.” Fawn replied, her eyes brimmed with...sympathy? No, more like fear. Sympathetic fear maybe.
Char didn't need to ask to know she was remembering the same incident he was. Evidently, Fawn had come after the fighting was over and Ash threatened her to keep silent. All while he was unconscious.
“Where's your room?” he asked, ignoring the subject.
“Put me down, I'll show you,” Fawn replied, glaring at him, as if daring him to argue.
Char glanced down at the wound in her leg. “No.” As soon as he spoke the words, he realized nothing would let her give in. Sighing, he tried to add dramatic effect.
“Put. Me. Down.” Her eyes were blazing now, and it seemed she would have slapped him or gotten up herself if she was strong enough.
Rolling his eyes, and knowing it was futile to argue, he replied, “Fine. But you at least have to let me help you,” as he carefully set her down steadily on her legs. He heard a sharp intake of breath once she tried to lean away from him, and he gripped her tightly.
“I'm fine, I'm fine,” she retorted softly, sounding like she was convincing herself.
"Sure," he replied, not bothering to argue when she was in pain. "Where's your room?"
Slowly, Fawn raised her arm and pointed to a nearby room. "My room is a few stories high, but we can go there."
Despite her protesting, Char held her tight, and more than guided her the few steps to the room. Once he settled her down onto the sofa resting decoratively in the center, he scratched his head uncertainly and glanced at her. "So, er, I'm a bit new to the whole healing business. So...." He broke off as her saw her bite her lip. "You're laughing at me," he commented flatly.
"No, of course not," she giggled, then regained her composure. "Oh, just wash it, then wrap it up."
Char stared at her face blankly.
"You wash the wound thoroughly, then get a towel or something and wrap it around so the bleeding will stop," she explain exasperatedly. "Don't you get even a few small things?"
"Sorry," he replied, grinning. "Illiterate. Street boy, 'member?"
Char didn't listen for her response, staring at a sparkle that had caught his eye. He could see inside a large glass cupboard, glistening jewels. His old instinct to take it and run began to creep back into his mind, urging him to take a closer look. "Do you, uh, mind if I explore a bit?"
Fawn followed his gaze. "Sure. But you won't be able to get anything, anyway."
"I've opened those before," he spoke softly, mostly to himself, though Fawn could probably hear him. He didn't want to be attracted to the riches, but he couldn't help himself.
Finally, Char tore his gaze away from it. He set out to do dress Fawn's wound, then brought a blanket - a beautiful, silk, soft one - and laid it over her. Kneeling beside her, he said, "You should get some rest now. At least until it stops hurting."
"Where will you be?" she asked quietly, already beginning to drift off to sleep.
"Out. I'm not very comfortable here."
"Oh." For a moment, he just stared into Fawn's eyes, trying to read them. It took a lot of effort to look away from her.
"Well. Bye. G'night."
"Oh." For a moment, he just stared into Fawn's eyes, trying to read them. It took a lot of effort to look away from her.
"Well. Bye. G'night."
~01/12/12
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