I spend the rest of the day in my room, my mind a chaotic mess of thoughts and emotions. I keep replaying the conversation with Alistair, cringing at my own words, at the awkwardness of it all. I can't believe I said that. I can't believe he... He...!
What the hell was that?!
I don't know. I really don't. But it's... distracting, at least. It keeps my mind off the pain, off the memories. It's something else to focus on, something that isn't the surge, isn't the creature, isn't Arden's pale face as he was pulled under the water. For that, I'm grateful.
Alistair doesn't return that day. I'm not sure if he's avoiding me, or if he's just busy. Part of me hopes it's the latter, but I have a sinking feeling it's the former. I don't blame him, really. I'd avoid me too, after what I said.
I see Lena, when she comes to change my bandages. She's her usual calm, professional self, but there's a glint of amusement in her eyes whenever she looks at the disgusting flowers on my bedside table. She doesn't say anything about Alistair, about the flowers, but I can tell she knows. She's too perceptive not to.
"You're healing well." She says, her hands gentle as she applies the foul-smelling cream to my burns. "The scarring will be minimal, I think."
I nod, my gaze fixed on the wall. "That's good." I pause, then ask. "How's Arden?"
Her expression sobers, her hands pausing for a moment. "He's... stable. It's going to take time, but he'll recover."
I swallow, relief washing over me. "Good. That's... good."
She finishes up, her movements efficient, practiced. "Your actions were very reckless. I think you know that." She says, her tone stern. "Jumping into the water like that, you could have died. Could have thrown your life away for nothing." She meets my gaze, her eyes serious. "Arden will scold you much more than I, once he's well enough."
"I..." I know that. I'm feeling that. I'm not stupid. I wasn't jus... trying to-
"Thank you." There's a tremor in her hand as she settles hers over mine, and a wetness in her eyes. "He's a good man. He is a good friend. I... I could not have borne to lose him, too."
I stare at her.
There's a lump in my throat that I can't quite swallow down. Lena is the one who told me, only a few days ago... about the parties. About... how we don't know that the people we celebrate with will make it to the next one. She's been on this cursed, hellish place longer than I've lived. At all. And I guess I should have thought of it before but...
I can't imagine how many ghosts Lena carries. How many funerals. How many names. How many people are missing from these parties?
My other hand settles over hers.
"I'd. Do it again."
"No. You won't." Her voice is firm, eyes hard but not unkind. Then she shakes her head and offers me a small smile.
That smile... causes a stab of pain in my chest. It's like Sinead's.
"We can't have the young protecting us older-"
"I would." I interrupt, my tone firm. I don't know why I feel so strongly about it, but I do. "I'm done letting people die for me. If I can save them, I will. Even if it kills me."
She looks at me, searching my face for something. I don't know what. But then she sighs and nods. "This world is the cruelest to the brave. Be careful, Sarah."
I don't respond. I just watch as she packs up her things, her movements slow, deliberate. When she's done, she stands up, her hand lingering on my shoulder for a moment.
"Rest. You need it." She says, before turning and leaving the room.
I'm left alone with my thoughts, the weight of her words settling over me. The cruelest to the brave... I don't know if I'm brave. I don't know if I ever was. I don't feel brave at all. But...
I'm not going to sit by and watch people die for me. Not anymore.
The next day, I decide I'm going to see Arden. I need to see him, need to know that he's really okay, that he's still here, still with us. I need to see it with my own eyes.
I get up, my body protesting every movement. I'm still weak, still in pain, but I'm determined. I make my way to his room, my steps slow, my breath coming in short gasps. Every part of me aches, but I push through, focusing on the door at the end of the corridor.
I knock softly, not wanting to disturb him if he's sleeping. But there's no answer, no sound from inside. I hesitate, then push the door open, peeking inside.
Arden is lying in bed, his eyes closed, his breathing steady. He looks... small. More of him is bandaged than isn't. One of his legs is entirely wrapped up and lifted on a pillow and the other... my chest seizes. The other is gone. There's just the top of his thigh, and below that there's just nothing. No leg.
I think... I'm going to be sick. I have to grip the doorframe to stay standing.
I don't know what happened. If he lost it to the creature, or if it was just injured. I remember there was tentacle around - I'm dizzy. The images, sounds, the screams, they're flooding over me. They're pouring through my head, roaring, drowning, I-
"Hey..."
The soft, raw voice of Arden cuts through the noise. I blink, forcing my eyes back into focus, trying to calm my breathing. He's looking at me, his eyes tired, but clear.
"Sarah..." He breathes out my name, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. "You're up."
I swallow, forcing myself to move, to walk over to his bedside. "Yeah. Yeah, I... I wanted to see you." I admit, my voice hoarse. "You look like shit."
He lets out a weak laugh, the sound turning into a cough. "Feel like it, too." He agrees, his gaze drifting to his missing leg. "Not... as bad as I expected." He says, his tone conversational, as if he's talking about the weather. "Could be worse."
I don't know how he can be so calm about it, so accepting. I'm not sure I could be, in his place. "I... I'm sorry." I say, and my eyes fill with tears. "I'm so sorry I couldn't... I didn't get to you in time, I should have-"
"Sarah." His voice is firm, cutting through my self-pity. "Don't. Don't you dare apologize for saving my life. I'm alive because of you. That's all that matters." He reaches out, his hand finding mine, giving it a weak squeeze. "You did good, kid. Real good."
I nod, unable to speak, the tears spilling over, running down my cheeks. He's right. I know he is. But it doesn't stop the guilt, the regret. It doesn't stop the what-ifs, the could-have-beens.
We sit in silence for a while, the only sound are his rattling breaths. We don't have vital monitoring equipment here. His breathing isn't great, and I'm sure... I'm scared that somehow, after all this maybe he'll still-
"You're a popular girl." He says suddenly, breaking the silence. "Got everyone talkin' about you." He smiles, a little more genuine this time. "Even Cal. Though he'll deny it, of course."
I blink, surprised by the change in subject. "What? What do you mean?"
He shifts, wincing at the movement. "Heard about your little stunt. Jumpin' in after me. The fearless hero, huh? Can't say I remember it. Won't say I endorse it." He coughs again, his face contorting in pain. I reach for the glass of water on the bedside, holding it to his lips. He drinks slowly, his throat working. "Thanks."
"Of course." I murmur.
He settles back against the pillows, his eyes closing briefly. "You're... incredible, you know that?" He says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don't... let anyone tell you otherwise."
I can't help but laugh. "I think it's a little early to call me that."
"Nah." He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. "Could be the survival speaking though. And those damn good drugs Lena's been giving me...."
"It's definitely the drugs." I agree, my smile widening.
He laughs, the sound turning into another cough. "Probably." He agrees. "But..." His gaze focuses on me. "I'm still right about it. This place. Grinds you down, Sarah. Even when we're free. Even when they're not beating us down, sanding everything away... this damn nightmare. It just... takes." His hand tightens around mine. "Everything. Everyone. You watch the people you care about die. One by one. Even when it's not those damn aliens, it's... a storm. A flare, a stampede. Those damn Scylla. You watch them all die, try to hold them in your hands and watch them slip away. And you...lose parts of yourself."
He barks a laugh that turns into a violent, terrifying coughing fit. I reach out to hold his shoulder as he heaves, trying to catch his breath. When he finally settles, I'm about to call for Lena, but he holds up a hand.
"I'm... fine. I'm fine." He grunts, his eyes falling closed again. "Literally... lost a part this time, though..."
"Don't make stupid jokes." I chide him, my voice thick with tears.
"Can't help it." He smiles, eyes still closed. "Gotta... laugh. Or... I'll never stop screaming."
I bite my lip, hard, to keep from crying. He's right. He's so right. If he starts screaming, I will too. And I just... can't.
He takes another breath, and then opens his eyes to look at me. "This place will take everything from you, Sarah. It'll never stop. So... I want to shout at you, tell you that you're a stupid damn fool for risking yourself for an old man... but..."
His head settles on the pillow beneath him again, and he closes his eyes a moment, before he focuses on me again. "That bravery. It's part of you. It's yours. So... protect it. Okay?" He squeezes my hand. "Don't let them have it. Not even if some old guy like me says different."
"I won't." I promise him. "I won't let them. I won't let anyone."
He smiles, a genuine, warm smile that lights up his tired, worn face. "Good." He murmurs. "Now..." His voice is even softer, his eyes drifting closed again. "You got a reason for bothering me, brat?" He teases.
I laugh, sniffling a little. "I wanted you to finish the bird story."
For a moment he's quiet, and I think maybe he's fallen asleep. But then he laughs, a soft, tired sound. "It's... not that good of a story when I'm sober..."
I squeeze his hand. "Please...?" I ask, my voice small.
He sighs, his chest rising and falling slowly. "Alright. Alright... gonna make me cry..." He murmurs. "Okay. So. There's this bird..." He winces, but his eyes open again, and they crinkle in humor, recalling the story, "and it's a big bastard. Huge beak. And it's got...this nest. Right on the top of the big powerlines..."