My conscious drifted in and out for what could have been anywhere between a few minutes or a few weeks.  I saw Chase's face, and Kat's, and I heard their voices; muffled, shouting, but most horrifyingly, they sounded terrified.

I could sometimes vaguely picture Chase's chest looming above me, his hair framing his face, which was bent over my one-sided vision.  I think I must have been in his lap or something.  I hardly saw Kat except for the beginning time span of my half-awareness, though I caught sight of a few blond locks of hair flit into my vision, the rest of her face - if it was Kat's hair I was seeing - blocked by the dark blankness of my right eye.

 

After a while the pain in my face and head faded, following a sharp poke in the bad side of my face, which the fraction of my functioning brain decided was a needle.  Another stab, definitely longer and this time and in my arm, draped a heavy black blanket over my consciousness that pushed away the world for the final time.

You know, when you've been unconscious for who knows how long, the black tends to be ripped away way too painfully.  To be replaced, of course, by the sharp white light that stabs through your eyelids and ravages your eyes before you even open them.

Well... Eye.

Yeah, I could tell.  It's not like in the movies or the books when they always say, 'psh, there's nothin' wrong with me.  I just can't figure out why I can't feel my arm.'  Or leg.  Or face, or butt, or whatever.  You know the minute you're conscious because you remember it happening.  No, 'it all happened so fast, I-I don't remember, officer, I swear...'  Oh, heck no.  You're out, you don't dream and it's blissful ignorance, then you wake up and you relive it over again.

"S***," I mumbled.  My lips were cracked, coated with something that tasted metallic and salty and, who am I kidding, was most certainly blood.

"Oh, God, Ember, I thought you weren't gonna wake up..."  Chase's voice was still slightly muffled, but distinguishable, coming from directly above me.  I was on my back, in definitely not the most comfortable position.

"S***," I repeated.  I didn't open my eyes.  "I feel like s***.  I probably look even worse.  I've got bloody lipstick on, look, dontcha just wanna kiss me?"

Oh yeah.  Definitely still drugged.  I had figured out that I was still in Chase's lap; my head anyway, and without a thought to what I was doing, I scooted up and snuggled against his chest.  I decided that sleeping off the drugs was way more fun when you made it clear that you were totally high.

 

I actually opened my eyes this time.  Eye.  Sorry.  I was in a tent, anyway, and the tan canvas ceiling danced with little rainbows from some crystal object hanging in the sunlight.  I was in a bedroll, sprawled on my back with one leg jutting out from the blanket.  Heavy bandages swathed lopsidedly around my head made the bridge of my nose itch furiously where it rubbed against the skin.  I was wearing what felt like a nightdress; god forbid I should ever wear anything I couldn't ride away in.

My head hurt like hell; the drugs wearing off, accompanied by a throbbing pain behind the bandages where my right eye once was.  I looked around anyway, though; I was never one to succumb to pain, especially if it was preventing me from doing something.  Which, of course, it always was.

Chase was laying on a mat beside me.  I honestly couldn't help myself, so don't judge me here, but he really did look beautiful like that.  He was on his side, facing me, with one arm braced against the ground as if he had fallen asleep trying to stand up.  The other was stretched out in front of him; stretched toward my face.  i could have kissed his fingertips if I had tried.  Or licked them.  Or spit in his hand, and watched his expression when he woke up to a palm full of drool.  Haha.

Get ahold of yourself here, Ember, you just admitted to yourself that he was hot and now you're considering a really nasty prank.  Talk about bipolar.

But... He looked so peaceful.  All the guard was gone from his face, and in the little puddle of sunlight he was lying in, his eyelashes looked so freaking long I was actually jealous.  And when am I jealous of something like that?

I must have been watching him for a good five minutes, because that was how long it usually took in the morning for me to realize I had to pee.  This morning was no exception.

Well, at least it meant I didn't wet his bed, I told myself as I managed into a very painful sitting position.  Geez, the backs of my ribs on the left side hurt like someone had taken a sledge hammer to them... I must have landed on something when I fell back from the explosion.

I dragged myself as quietly as I could outside, did what had to be done behind the tent where the grass grew ridiculously tall (the rest of the camp must have been out on a hunt or something anyway; it was completely silent) and crawled back inside.

Chase was still asleep, and my head was killing me, so I curled up back in the bedroll, wondering what the heck had made him so tired.  He barely slept at all, usually.  I didn't see what he could have done to exhaust him like this.

I fell asleep watching his face, his eyes darting underneath his lids as he watched some imaginary being in a dream or something.

 

"Changing your bandages, kid, hang in there."

It was Kat.  Her voice was definitely less muffled, coming from right beside me.  I was sitting up, propped against Chase's hand on my upper arm.  Kat was messing with the bandages around me head.

"Oy," I protested, trying to swat her away.

"Doch!" she barked; it was German for "Meh!"  Kat's family had raised her speaking a mixture of German and English.  Her hands smacked mine away and Chase locked them firmly by my sides, scooting back so that he was sitting around behind me with one leg under him and the other pinning down both of mine.

I was stuck.

"Dang it, Ember, hold still.  You want this to get infected?"

"Yes," I said stubbornly.  I heard a snort from behind me.  "Shut up."

They finally succeeded in changing the lopsided turban that bound my head, after almost having to call Darren in.  I protested loudly throughout all of it.

"It's gonna bleed again," I accused.  "You're ripping out all the scabs and stuff.  You wanna kill me?"

"Jesus, Ember, you're like a six year old."  Chase's strained voice came from beneath me - he had ended up wrapping his legs around my waist and his arms around my shoulders, and the resulting position, after we had lost balance and toppled backward, was very funny to watch.  I had to hold my head up to avoid squishing his face, which I considered intentionally doing, while Kat put the last of the pins into the bandage.  My ribs hurt like heck, but they only felt bruised or something.

"Wow..." I said after it was all finished and I was let up.  "I feel like an idiot with this thing."

"You look like one.  If you can walk, you can escort yourself out of my tent."

"Love you, too," I said.  I limped out of the tent, and was already a good couple steps away before I realized he was joking.  Oh well - I wanted to find Outlaw anyway.

I was nearing the pasture, dominated by a furiously pacing Outlaw, when my name was called.  Again.

"Ember!"  It was Kat, stalking toward me with her arms raise as if to swat me away like a bug.  "Back!  Away with ye, beast.  No horses yet.   Bed.  Did Chase kick you out?"

"Yeah," I said, "but I wanted to see Outlaw anyway."

"No.  Bed.  I'm going to go beat Chase now.  Come hither."  Kat spun on her heel and headed toward the other side of camp, where Chase's tent was. 

"Dude, not cool."  Kat announced her presence as she stormed into the canvas structure.  "You kicked a cripple out of your tent -" I protested loudly, but was ignored "- and gave her a reason to visit a horse who's already wound up and even if it is Outlaw we speak of, he probably still would have managed to hurt her by accident."

Chase was shrinking back with each word she threw at him, like he was being pelted with tennis balls.  "I was joking!  I didn't mean for her to actually leave, jeez, woman..."

"Yeah, well -"

"HEY," I shouted, and they both fell silent before the real argument could break out.  "Violent temperamentally challenged chick with a massive migraine and one eye here.  SHUT UP."  There was a long silence as they all seemed to realize my existence for the first time since Kat arrived to pin Chase with her accusations.  "I'm gonna head to my tent now," I announced, a bit quieter, when the silence began to get awkwardly long.

"No, you're not.  You can stay in mine or in Chase's, but I would recommend Chase's; I've got Kylar to take care of, and he never was one to be anything but a short fuse while he was in pain."

"Oh.  Shoot.  He got caught up in the explosion, didn't he?" I breathed, remembering for the first time that when I had gone to look at the jellyfish bomb with Chase, Kylar had followed a few minutes later.

Kat nodded.  "Nothing serious.  Nasty burns.  Not like you, kid, sorry to point out."

I sighed and grumbled something inaudible.  "Good.  I'd rather it be me than him."

Kat gave me a sympathetic glance before darting out of the tent.  As awesome as Kat was, no one, and I repeat no one, has ever witnessed her give a reassuring or even sympathetic talk.  A glance was the best you could get; even when you were lying gravely injured on a bedroll in her tent, the line stopped at 'glad you're alive.'

I made on of those horse-snort things, where you blow air between your loosely closed lips and it makes a funny noise.  I don't remember what they're called, or if they even have a name.

"Careful.  You could be swearing in horse."

I laughed, but it hurt my ribs, so I stopped.  "Yeah.  That was the point.  I just listed every possible swearword in the little blurb there."

"Charming," he chuckled.  I swear, this was the most he'd ever spoken.  Ever. 

"Yeah, I know, right?  Hey, why can't I go back to my tent?"

Chase passed by me to straighten up the bedroll.  I looked outside.  Holy crap - the sun was setting.  It must have been afternoon when I first woke up, then a bit later in the evening the second time. 

"Because I'm supposed to keep an eye on you," he replied, straightening up and flourishing his hand for me to lay down in the bed.  I shook my head and remained standing.  He gave me a glare and continued.  "If you're in your own tent, everything is going to feel too normal, and you'll get the urge to go throwing out orders again.  Right now James is in charge, with Darren's help, and I'm supposed to keep you... Well... Occupied, we could say, until you're better."

"That could be interpreted many ways," I chuckled, referring to his choice of the word 'occupied.'  My face hardened again.  "I'm not getting better, Chase.  My eye's gone, isn't it?  'Better' just refers to bandage-less."

His own eyes grew cold.  "Yeah, well, you're lucky you're alive, alright?  Kat and I had to work on you for a good six hours, and I stayed up for two days straight just to make sure you weren't bleeding through, just to watch for the signs Kat said meant you were bleeding into your brain from the outside.  If you give up now, how do you think that would make me feel?"  His face looked a bit confused, like he wasn't meaning to say everything he was saying, but his voice was rising in volume and he wasn't quitting now.  "I swear, Ember, I've lived with you since I was, what, ten?  I don't even remember.  You think that doesn't have some effect on me?  I can't just ignore your presence for those seven years.  It doesn't happen like that."

Okay, to be honest, I was taken aback.  I didn't show it; my face remained like stone, but on the inside, my heart was going at a full gallop and my mind was racing.  It was not helping my head, and it certainly wasn't helping my temper.

"I know the effect I have on you," I hissed.  "I'm not blind.  I know you hated me, and I don't blame you for it.  You should have let me die, Chase.  It might have been a relief."

He didn't look fazed by my retaliation, but he did suddenly look very tired.  "If anything," he said, "I don't hate you."

I pulled my lip back like I was going to growl, but for some reason, I just didn't want to fight anymore.  I stood there, motionless, staring at the air right in front of Chase's eyes.  He was about a foot away from me.  I slowly started to sink down into a sitting position on the bed, hugging my legs and putting my face - tilted onto the good side - on my knees. 

"Hey," said Chase, squatting in front of me.  "No crying.  That'll mess up the scarring.  I'm pretty sure your tear ducts can't be surgically removed."

I couldn't help but laugh.  "Do you know me at all, Chase?" I asked, sounding more serious than I meant to.  "I haven't cried since I was eleven, that time Outlaw bit me.  I'm not starting now."

Chase laughed and sat down on the bedroll next to me, his arm around my shoulders.  I had no idea someone like Chase would ever consider touching someone, let alone pull me up against him.  We sat there for a while before both laying back on the bedroll, and I rested my head on his chest.  It's really easy to fall asleep when you're snuggling with someone.

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