[writing] Project Chaos - Twenty-four

[djtenku]

Title: Settle
Word Count: 1828
Summary: Remember. Vulnerable. Surprise.

The light eventually faded away, but he still covered his eyes with an arm for a few moments. He muttered something incoherent as he sat up, eyes still adjusting. From what he saw, there was a vase with sunflowers on the small coffee table in the corner. The small window on his side was cracked open, welcoming the far sea breeze and dispelling that stagnant hospital smell.

Rowan blinked as he glanced at the small monitor just above him and took in his surroundings a little bit more. He got out of his bed, and within a few shuffling steps stopped; there was a dull pain in his chest. He ignored it as he rummaged though the dresser for adequate clothing, only to find a pair of grey sweatpants and a short sleeved shirt.

He sat back on the bed, short of breath. Rowan glanced down at the square gauze pad that was nearly covered his heart and wondered what happened. There were similar bandages on his left arm – after the fact that he couldn’t lift it very well – and his stomach. His mind tried to play back memories, but found nothing but blurs. All he knew is that he had the feeling of guilt. Guilt from what?

Rowan looked up at the sound a door knob turning as he started to put the shirt on.

“Ah, good morning,” said Meeko said cheerfully, closing the door behind her. She was dressed in her usual smock, blond hair in a braided ponytail. She smiled. “I trust that you slept well?”

“How…long was I asleep?” His voice was strangely distant and unfamiliar.

“I believe about five days,” she responded, still keeping her cheery air about her, but with a hint of sadness. “We were worried about you, Rowan. Especially your father.”

If there was any hint of sleepiness, it was erased. “Wh-where is he?” Rowan turned around as Meeko nodded behind him. There was a curtain that somehow blended with the room. He glanced at the doctor, worried.

“He’s fine, though he’s a little banged up right now; he’s sleeping right now,” she assured him. “Has been since we got back, but he’s been talking in his sleep sometimes, apologizing really.” Meeko sighed. “You should forgive him, Rowan. I know that you two are estranged and haven’t talked to each other in years. He’s your father; you may not get another chance to reconcile.” She looked away, aware of her blurb. “Sorry…”

“It’s…alright. I know,” Rowan said quietly, nodded “I know.”

Meeko fished her pockets and gave Rowan two broadhead arrows; the blades still shone even as their color was a hint of rust. “I wasn’t sure if you would want these,” she said as he inspected them with a bit of interest. “Did you try to tear that one out?”

“I might’ve. Everything’s still fuzzy…” Rowan looked up at Meeko, feeling that she was expecting an answer. She was certainly trustworthy and understanding, but the memory was just too fresh to come to terms with it. “You wouldn’t have a pen and some paper, would you?”

Meeko raised a slight eyebrow at the request, but did it regardless. “Sometimes, after a dream, I draw what I just saw. Hell, I just draw whenever I’m stressed about something; it’s good therapy, I’d say,” Rowan said as he began to draw, “but this has stressed me out for years. I’m still not sure if it’s true.”

“What do you mean by that?” the small woman questioned, pulling up a chair from the nearby table.

“I kept having this dream about this woman,” Rowan said slowly. “At first, I only saw her from a distance, until some time ago, I saw her up close; and for sometime, her face would be hidden in a veil. She always wore white… and we were always in a forest full of snow, much like the one in Greenland. She always spoke in riddles, and I still haven’t figured them out yet. But, it wasn’t until last Friday that I saw her, physically.”

Meeko frowned in thought, and before she could hide it, Rowan chuckled. “Maybe my dreams are some sort of vision,” he said jokingly. “I’m touched in the head, remember? I saw her three times more. At one point, she asked me to run away with her; to where I don’t know, but I sorta agreed. That’s how I knew of the clearing. The last time I saw her… something changed.

“She was hurt and sad; I never knew why,” Rowan solemnly said, bowing his head slightly. “She changed. In her eyes I saw a faint glimmer of hope, but it was gone… I thought I would still come with her but, I was out of my mind at the time, I guess. We fought and…” He trailed off for a few minutes, still trying to gather his thoughts. Meeko noted the mixture of guilt and grief on his pale face. “…I ended up killing her,” he said quietly, “and she almost killed me. I suppose these past few days I was contemplating on whether or not to come back. I had another dream, and she was there again…I almost didn’t recognize her. She was very beautiful, to say the least,” he said with a small smile. “She seemed very happy, even when she told me about herself.”

Rowan stopped and looked at his drawing, to marvel at it. “She asked me if I would stay with her, and when I told her ‘no’, she told me that she’ll come back for me.” He sighed, deciding that the picture was good enough, and handed it to Meeko.

The drawing was that of a woman in lavish gypsy clothing, arms out in mid-pose. Her hair was curly and long, but her head was partially turned away, as if shy. Meeko couldn’t believe it. How could he draw something in this short amount of time? “What was her name?”

“Roya,” Rowan answered sadly.

“It…sounds like you loved her.”

“I don’t know if I did,” he sighed, “and I don’t know if she did. The thing is, I am the only person who knew of her existence. If I told anyone else, they’d think I’m crazy.”

“Trust me, Rowan, you’re not crazy,” Meeko said with a reassuring smile.

“Then what am I?” Rowan asked, looking up at her.

Taken aback by the question Meeko held his hand in between her small hands. “Human,” she simply said.

On the other side of the curtain, Racre Xander turned over with a small sigh, and tried going back to sleep.

-

Kento eyed Shin the best he could, and saw small, familiar packages cradled in her arms. “What are you doing?” he asked, voice muffled by his pillow and slightly slurred from the morphine. He lifted his head up as she approached. “Don’t tell me…”

Shin looked apologetic as she nodded, glancing at his prone body. He dimly reminded her of a mummy, bandages covering a good portion of his body; and thin casts covered his forearms and legs. There was a single bandage across his nose, and stitches ran side to side over his right eye. “Well,” Shin said, “it has to be done.”

“They don’t need changing,” he said, frowning the best he could.

Shin dumped the packages unceremoniously on his bed and sat at the edge of the bed, folding her legs in. “Would you rather Kujoh do this?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. “They’re gonna get changed whether you like it or not.”

Kento looked passed her, and did see Kujoh’s rather large frame pass the door, whistling a merry tune. He looked at her again, and sighed in defeat, slowly picking himself from the bed. He still felt some of the pain, but it was more discomfort than anything else. Besides, it was no use in being stubborn. “Easy!” Kento exclaimed as Shin started to unravel the dressings. “You should be resting,” he said quietly.

“My leg is feeling better,” Shin responded, “and my crutches are somewhere around here...it’s just a nuisance really. I’m fine.” The first bandage dropped, and she saw the light, claw-like streaks on his neck and frowned.

Kento felt her fingers trace the new scars and winced. “Shina…”

“Sorry,” she muttered, continuing on. “What did you apologize for anyway?” Shin stopped as his shoulders seemed to drop, and he turned around partially.

“It’s just that you’re always there for me,” he said slowly. “When was the last time I was there for you?”

“You’re always here for me, Kento,” Shin said with a faint smile. “What made you think that anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” he lied, turning away. “Maybe I can’t remember. I do have a mild concussion, y’know.”

“I’ll give you that,” Shin said lightly. She began working again, wondering. “You’re awfully quiet, something on your mind?”

The first two days, after he emerged a day of sleep, was spent on drug induced rants about everything on his mind at that point. In retrospect, it really wasn’t a good idea. “I’m pretty sure I don’t,” he said thoughtfully. He couldn’t admit his feelings to her or his thoughts, and he felt strangely empty because of it. Not right now anyways. “Can we discuss it later?” he asked suddenly.

“Only when you’re ready,” Shin replied, unfastening the last bandage. She sought out the tube of disinfectant and rubbed his back gently. Surprisingly, there a mutter of disagreement or anything.

“Didn’t you say that you were going to tell a story? Something about an angel?”

“Oh, that? Of course. I know that Bluebeard was definitely not a good one. I don’t know what drove me to think about it,” Shin admitted, “but you’ll love this one…”

* * *

Rowan eventually wandered outside into the open yard in front of the hospital, and welcomed the fresh, cool air. The cracked window wasn’t enough. The sky was already low with clouds, and with it came flurries. He sat down at one of the benches that faced the nearby cemetery and sighed, burying his head within his hands.

He still felt lingering guilt, but he remembered Roya’s words. She’ll come back, he reassured himself. But, how do you come back from death? The question lurked for some time, that is, until he heard a faint chime. Rowan looked up sharply as he heard it again, and stared at the cemetery. Compelled, he got up and entered the graveyard, eyes searching and listening intently.

He paused as he came upon a recently dated headstone, and saw a small black and white kitten curled beside it, shivering. His eyes went wide as it opened a stark green eye and seemed to acknowledge him. Rowan knelt and scooped the kitten into his arms, and it curled into a ball, purring.

He sighed as he figured out his answer, and journeyed across the graveyard and back into the courtyard. “You don’t have to worry,” he said.