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Garret staggered back, lowering his blade, and my heart lurched into motion again. It was over. He was alive, and we had won.
I started across the arena, calling out to Garret. He turned, a smile breaking over his face as he saw me. Behind him, the Patriarch stirred, and I saw the glimmer of raw hatred in his eyes as his arm reached to the small of his back and drew out a piston. My heart lodges in my throat as he pointed it at the soldier.
“Garret, behind you-!”
A shot rang out as Garret turned, the report flying over the empty flats.
-
Biting back tears, I sat with Garret’s dying body, holding him as thick crimson blood dripped from the bullet wounds in his back. Muttering to him, telling him he would be alright. He had to be alright. I couldn’t lose Garret, not right now.
“You’re going to be fine,” I said again, gripping his hand. “Just stay with me, alright?” Garret smiled at me weakly, and his eyes flickered.
“Ember… I…” Garret’s words were choked, almost as much as mine.
“I love you.” He managed, before his eyes shut completely and he went limp.
I released the hold on my tears. The soldier I loved had just died in my arms, and I couldn’t save him.
“Shit, Ember!” I vaguely heard Riley shout, and salt crunching under his combat boots as he dropped to my side. Feeling for a pulse in Garret’s wrist, I couldn’t help but watch the blood pour over the salt flats. It made me feel so much worse, but I couldn’t tear my gaze off it.
“Ember, I need you to go get the-” Riley started to tell me, before Tristan St. Anthony approached us. Staring up at him with wide eyes, he also stooped next to the soldiers body and promptly dropped a medical kit between us.
“Tristan, there isn’t any point.” I managed, trying to tell him it was too late. Garret was beyond saving.
“We can try.” Tristan’s answer was short and to-the-point, and gave me a feeble flicker of hope. We could try. Maybe he would live.
“I can do a transfusion, but he needs O Positive blood, and I’m not that type. Unless you guys…” He trailed off, and left me heartbroken again. A second of silence that was the worst moment of my life.
“Fuck me, if he doesn’t survive I’ll never hear the end of this.” Riley mumbled as he searched for something in the medkit. Apparently finding it, he cut a line in his skin at the crook of his elbow, dripping his blood into the salt and mixing it with the slowly expanding circle around Garret.
“Don’t just stand there, St. George, help me! I’m gonna bleed out like the blasted soldier if you don’t.” Riley yelled. Tristan quickly stood up and connected a plastic tube to Riley’s bloodstream, and attached a needle into Garret’s body to where the blood would be entering. I watched Riley’s blood move slowly towards Garret’s body, hoping that it would be quick enough.
“Don’t watch me, Firebrand! Put a fucking tourniquet or something on him so he doesn’t bleed my blood out too!” I jumped up and moved, but St. Anthony was ahead of me. He pulled out gauze patches, bandages and a needle with thread attached, all with grim determination to save the traitor to his Order, his ex-partner, and maybe one of his friends.
“As long as his body accepts the transfusion, and my dragon blood doesn’t kill him, he should be fine. Come on Ember, we’re going back now. Wes is coming.” Riley told me as Tristan stared absently at the horizon, and I watched Garret’s unmoving body. Tristan had confirmed that he was still alive, barely. A van pulled up behind us, crunching the salt underneath the tires, and Wes stepped out.
“Bloody- Okay, get the damned soldier in the back. And make sure he doesn’t bleed on everything.” A harsh British accent washed over me, and I barely stood and helped move Garret into the van. Sitting in the back with him on the ride home, I prayed that he would be safe. And alive into the morning.
-
Garret’s fever seemed to be never-breaking. It had been almost a week since the salt flats. On a positive note, his gun wounds had healed immensely fast, probably a side effect of the dragons blood inside him. The thing that was causing the issues, however, was the same thing that kept him from dying.
His body had rejected the blood.
He was either in a coma or fever sleep, as far as Riley could tell, and was constantly convulsing and muttering in his dreams. I could never make out what he was saying, but he was always sad or scared. Incomprehensive mumbles from him during all hours of the day prevented me from sleeping. I would wake myself up to try and listen, or he would be yelling and wake me up soon after I had drifted off. I tried to force him to drink some water, but he always coughed it up afterwards.
It felt like I was always almost crying, as well. Every time I looked at him, my eyes prickled and tears threatened to come out, but I would just take a deep breath and keep watching him.
“Firebrand.” A low voice, Riley’s, came from the door. Mumbling something about entering as a reply, I watched his tall form walk into the room.
“He’s doing alright, he just needs to-”
“Ember.” Riley cut me off, and I stared at him with a pained expression. His face softened.
“Ember, he’s rejected the blood. The chances that he will wake up…” Riley trailed off, leaving his statement to hang heavily over me.
He won’t wake up.
Garret is as good as dead. I would never get to talk to him again.
I couldn’t bear it. I whispered to Riley to watch him for a bit, and quickly walked out of the room, hiding my head as I walked down the hallway. It was dark outside, I noticed, and only Wes was awake, tapping at his computer at the kitchen table. I stormed past him, stopping only at the end of the room when I heard him yell my name.
“Bloody hell, Ember, come here.” I turned around to face him, not sure where my sudden anger had come from. Staring at him for a second before I shoved my head down to hide my tears did nothing.
“Shit, is he…” Wes also trailed off. It seemed that nobody in this underground could really accept it when any of us were dying.
“No.” I clipped. I didn’t want to, didn’t think I could tell him that it probably wouldn't be more than a few days before he did.
I had known he wasn’t getting better. Flesh wounds can heal, but his fever kept getting worse by the day, and his convulsing and jerking had only gotten more violent in the past few days. Part of me knew this could happen, I just wasn’t ready for it.
“I’m going to my room. Riley is watching him.” I turned away, not saying that I was going to sleep, because I knew that was a damned lie and Wes did too.
“Alright, don’t stay up too late. I don’t want to be down a hatchling and a soldier.” I winced as Wes said it, and he stammered to apologise. Shaking my head, I rushed off to my room.
Slamming the door shut behind me, I let every emotion I had held back free. Hot tears ran down my face, as well as the very strong urge to set everything on fire and just watch the world burn. If I couldn’t have Garret, after everything we had been through, why did anyone else deserve anything?
-
“Ember!” Riley called out. I pulled my head away from my pillow. I hadn’t left my room in probably two days, save for the food Wes dragged me out to make me eat and toilet breaks.
“Go away. I can’t-”
“Firebrand, damnit, he’s awake.”
I jolted up. Garret had woken up. He would be okay. He had pulled through.
Slipping on a fresh t-shirt, I basically burst out of the room, hope tugging me along.
Riley put a hand on my shoulder, but I shoved it off. I felt him stare after me, but I couldn’t bear to wait another second.
When I walked into Garret’s room, I saw the scenario and realised why Riley had been so sombre about him being awake. Awake was an understatement. He was shivering and stammering and paranoid and… Everything he was doing in his sleep, just awake for it. I almost started crying just looking at him. I rushed over, ignoring Wes in the chair next to him, and sat on the bed, grabbing Garret’s hand. It was sweaty and yet as cold as ice, but I ignored it. Staring into his eyes, I told him he would be okay.
“You’re awake, Garret. You made it. Just stay with us, alright? You can do this.” I needed to assure him, and myself, that he would pull through.
He hugged me. A shaking, terrified hug. I held him back, tighter than I ever did before.
“I’m dying, aren’t I?” He choked out. Pulling back, I held both his hands.
“You aren’t dying, Garret, you’ll get better.”
He stared at me, eyes both full of fear and resignation.
“I’m dying.” This time, it wasn’t a question. I stroked his hair.
“No.” I whispered. I couldn’t let Garret die in front of me. Not again.
“Ember, do you want me to help?” Wes asked quietly, the most tender I had heard him be. I silently shook my head.
Garret started quickly muttering something incoherent, and I bit back tears. He wasn’t alright. He wasn’t better. He might die sooner than I was prepared for.
He leant forward and hugged me again. I held him softly this time, letting him rest his head on me. I could feel his weak pulse, putting a hand on his heart. I heard him sniffle and felt wetness on the back of my neck, but I didn’t say anything. How could I blame him?
He started convulsing again, and Riley, who I hadn’t known was in the room, told me to lie him down. Shaking my head, I kept my grip on him.
“Ember, he’s in pain. Please.” Riley pleaded. I swallowed a lump in my throat, and managed a quick ‘no’.
Riley was suddenly next to me, slowly removing Garret’s hands off of me. I stared at him, tear-stains running down my cheek and he stared back. I felt my defences melting. Riley was nearly as upset as me.
Removing the hand off Garret’s back, I laid him down with the help of Riley. I moved the hand that was on his chest to one of his, and talked to him while he shook, trying to calm him down. He didn’t look at me until almost half an hour later.
“I love you so much, dragon girl.” Garret stopped me mid-sentence, his eyelids half-closed. His heart had slowed even more, and he had stopped shaking. Realising he was going, I made sure to tell him before it was too late.
“I love you more, soldier boy.”