I wake up in a haze of pain and confusion. My body feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending screaming in agony. I'm lying on something soft, a bed maybe, my body covered in... bandages? There's a dull, throbbing ache in my head, my vision blurry and unfocused.
I try to move, to sit up, but the pain flares, sharp and intense, forcing me back down. I groan, my voice hoarse, barely recognizable as my own.
"Sarah?!"
The voice is familiar, but I can't place it. My mind is too foggy, my thoughts too slow. I blink, trying to clear my vision, trying to focus on the figure leaning over me.
It's Alistair. His face is a mask of concern, his eyes wide and worried. There's something else there too, something I can't quite place. Anger? Frustration? It's hard to tell.
"Whuh..." I try to speak, but my throat is dry, my tongue thick and clumsy. "What... happened...?"
He lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping in relief. "You're awake. Thank fuck." His fingers run over his face, but they visibly shake. "You just... rest. You're okay. You're safe."
I want to ask more questions, want to know what's going on, but my eyelids are heavy, my mind drifting. I can feel the pull of sleep, the darkness beckoning me back. I try to fight it, try to stay awake, but it's a losing battle. My eyes close, my breathing evens out, and I'm gone again.
The next time I wake up, it's to the sound of voices. Low, murmuring, the words indistinct. I open my eyes slowly, my vision still blurry, but clearer than before. I'm in a small room, the walls a dull grey, the only light coming from a glow panel on the ceiling.
Alistair is there, sitting in a chair next to the bed. He's leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He looks... tired. Worn out. There's a tension in his shoulders, a tightness in his posture that speaks of stress, of worry.
"Alistair...?" My voice is a whisper, my throat still raw.
His head whips up, his eyes locking onto mine. He looks. Like shit. Pale and exhausted, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. His hair is a mess, sticking up at odd angles. But there's a relief in his gaze, a flicker of happiness that makes my chest tighten.
"Sarah." He breathes out my name like a prayer, his hand reaching out to grasp mine. His fingers are warm, his grip tight. "You're awake."
I nod, wincing as the movement sends a spike of pain through my head. "What... what happened? Are we...?"
"We're..." He swallows. His hand cups my cheek. I can feel it shaking. "You're. You're okay, you're..." He looks at me, "Why did you do that?!"
I blink at him, confused. "Do what?" My mind is still sluggish, my thoughts slow to piece together.
"You jumped in after him! You...! Idiot - Arden-!"
"Arden!" I sit up, too fast. The name slices through my grogginess, through the haze. Arden... Arden was...! The pain is immediate, blinding, but I don't care. "Arden! Is he...? Is he...?"
Alistair's hand presses against my chest, gently pushing me back down. "He's... he's alive." He says, his voice rough, strained. "Thanks to you." I can hear the bitter taste of those words, the frustration and fear in his tone. "The idiot wouldn't have made it if you hadn't..."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, relief flooding through me. He's alive. Arden is alive.
I... I...
Don't know why. I'm crying. The tears are hot, stinging my eyes, blurring my vision. I bring a hand up, wiping at my face, trying to stop them. But it's no use. The tears keep coming, spilling over, running down my cheeks.
Alistair's expression softens, his anger giving way to concern. He leans in closer, his free hand wiping away my tears, his touch gentle. "Hey, hey. I'm the one who's supposed to be upset here." He says, attempting a smile, but it's weak. "You... You scared the hell out of me, you know that? When you jumped in after him..." He shakes his head, his jaw clenching. "I thought... that I...."
My gaze turns up toward him. I... don't think I've ever seen him look like this. So... vulnerable. So scared. It's unnerving, seeing him like this. Alistair is always so confident, so sure of himself. But right now, he looks lost. Scared.
"I'm... sorry-"
He slams his fist against the bedside table. "Don't fucking apologize!" The sound makes me jump, my eyes widening. He's angry again, his jaw clenched, his eyes blazing. "You don't get to be sorry! You don't get to do that!" He gestures at me, his voice rising. "You don't get to almost die and then apologize for it!"
I stare at him, taken aback by his outburst. "I... I didn't mean to..."
"I don't care what you meant!" He shouts, standing up abruptly, pacing the small room. His movements are agitated, jerky, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "You can't just...! I! D-Didn't I tell you...!"
He's raging, screaming at me, but I can see the fear behind it, the desperation. He's not angry at me, not really. He's angry at the situation, at the fact that he almost lost me. At the fact that I almost died.
I push myself up again, ignoring the pain, my eyes fixed on him. "Alistair."
"Fuck!" He whirls to face me, his eyes wild. "I told you. I told you! That...! I just....!"
He slams his fist into the wall, leaning his forehead against it. His shoulders shake, his breathing ragged. I can see the tears in his eyes, the way he's fighting to keep them back. "How. The fuck. Dare you. Make me watch you die?!" His voice breaks on the last word, his control shattering.
I get out of the bed, my legs unsteady, my body protesting. I move towards him, my hand reaching out, touching his shoulder. "Alistair..."
He slaps my hand away, whirling toward me, eyes blazing with rage, with fear. I take a step back, startled by the violence in his movement.
But then he's kissing me.
His lips are on mine, hard, desperate. His hands are in my hair, his body pressing against mine, pinning me to the wall. It's not a gentle kiss, not a sweet one. It's angry, hungry, full of all the things he's not saying. All the fear, the frustration, the desperation.
I gasp against his mouth, my hands gripping his shirt, holding on tight. I can feel the heat of him, the urgency in his movements. It's overwhelming, intoxicating. My body responds, my blood heating, my heart racing. I kiss him back, matching his intensity, my anger, my fear, my relief all pouring into the kiss.
His hands move, one sliding down my back, pulling me closer, the other tangling in my hair, holding me in place. I can feel the bandages on my body, the sting of my burns, but it's all secondary, all insignificant in the face of this. In the face of him.
We break apart, both of us breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together. His eyes are closed, his face flushed, his lips swollen from the kiss. I can feel his heart pounding, the rapid beat of it matching mine.
"I..." He starts, his voice rough, husky. "I can't lose you." He opens his eyes, his gaze locking onto mine. "Okay...? Just. Not. You." He swallows, his eyes searching my face. "Everyone else, fine. I don't care. But not you."
I don't know what to say. I don't have the words to express what I'm feeling, the swirl of emotions inside me. And- before I can, he's pulled away, standing up straight, taking deep breaths.
"I..." He swallows. "I'll go get Hestia. And Lena. You. Just sit, alright? Don't pass out again."
"I... Okay." I'm breathless, my mind still reeling from the kiss. My body is still humming with the aftershocks, the memory of his touch, his lips on mine. I watch him go, my heart still racing, my thoughts a tangled mess.
I sit down on the edge of the bed. No... I... just. Fall onto it. My legs are too shaky, my body too weak. I don't know what just happened, what that was. I feel even more dizzy now than I did when I woke up a few moments ago.
My hand, the one not covered in bandages, reaches up and touches my mouth. My lips feel swollen, bruised. I can still taste him on my tongue, still feel the heat of his body against mine. That... was...
"You..." My voice cracks, and I have to stop. I clear my throat and try again. "Asshole. That's not...! How you..." I huff, and drop my hand, laying back on the bed.
I...
I'm not awake enough to process my first kiss.
Especially not when it was such an angry one.