Flight (#3)

Harvey stood there, feeling the calming touch of the boy, and desperately trying to calm himself. After a few slower sobs, he eventually stopped shaking and stood up straight, face stained with tears. He looked down with his stupid smile and wiped the tears off his cheeks. "Thank you, Jack."

"Everyone- t-they're." He felt the tears rise again, but stopped them, and slowly but confidently he sighed, "not okay."

"Okay." he yawned. You'd think after so many years of breaking down in such similar ways would allow his body to build up an endurance, but this was just not the case. He was exhaused, and tried to say something but was interrupted by another yawn.

"I'm dissapointed in you Annette."

She had heard the voice, but this time she couldn't tell where it came from. She wasn't crying, but looking at a small girl. This was new, she rarely had dreams like this.  The tiny form with messy pigtails ran, out of the door and far from Annette. She blinked and suddenly the girl was back. The small girl's eyes opened wide, flowing tears dripping onto the floor. She tried to call out to the small girl, to help, but no words came out. She felt a familliar coolness plunge through her abdomen, and she looked down and saw a blade emerging from her stomach. She attempted to scream but her but blood began to pour out of her mouth, clogging her throat. She fell to the ground hand reaching out to the small girl, who stood still speachless and frozen.

Annette fell off of her bed, sending a shock through her own sutures. Her vision glazed over slightly as she lay there for some time with tears rolling down her face and her knees tucked close to her body. She crawled towards the door, her body quivering, opened it, and used the door handle to stand after much struggling. She clutched her abdomen, and looked down to a blurry hand covered in red. She collapsed against the door next to hers. She needed help.

She knocked lightly against the door, and practically fell on him as he opened his door.

"Annette!" He just barely caught her, hoisting her Into his arms and looking at her spaced out eyes, covered by a few strands of hair. "Whats wron-"

Then he saw the puddle of warm red staining the white shirt she had worn to bed. He inhaled sharply and carried her over to his own bed. He placed her down very very carefully as to not hurt her, he ripped open the shirt overing her wounds, and was faced with a heavily bleeding, reopened stab wound. He clutched the sides of her face, forcing her to look at him, forcing her to listen.
"Annette listen to me, whatever you do, do not fall asleep okay? Do not fall asleep."

"Okay." She muttered quietly. He began tearing his own shirt into strips to later stop her bleeding, followed by a very strong pressure to the wound, Very quickly he worked, very swiftly, as if he had done this thousands of times before. 

"Riley?"

"Yes?" He looked over to her face, the blank eyes replaced with worry.

"Please don't cry. I'm sorry."

"What- I wasn-" he touched his wrist to his eyes, leaving behind a warm drop of water. RIley forced his small tears back down his throat and continued mending a makeshift bandage. "Okay Annette I won"t cry."

Silence was his response, yet he still worked on the bleeding wound. "Annette?"

He turned back to her to face a pair of closed eyes, sending a tremble from his heart to his stomach. He slowly approached her face, the back of his blood soaked hand placed lightly on her softly freckled cheek. She was cold, too cold.

"Annette?" He called out, his voice quivering as he removed his hand from her face to shake her slightly, to hopefully shake her awake, but to no prevail. He put his ear against her chest and felt a soft murmer. She was alive, but the blood that had started to drip slowly onto the floor would have said otherwise. "Annette? Annette you have to wake up..." he desperately tried to contain the tears. "You survived a ship crash, getting your arm torn off, being stabbed... But you can't survive this?"

His calm voice had turned higher, a pleading tone, as if the seven year old version of himself had replaced him. He put his face very close to hers, his forehead touching hers. He scrunched his brow and closed his eyelids in an effort to stop the oncoming storm from the green clouds now hiding behind black curtains. "Annette please... please don't go..."

"Is that an order?" A tiny whisper was hears from the lips very near his own. He opened his eyes, and pulled back, enough to properly look at the source of the noise. Very dark, blank eyes stared back at him, desperately trying to grab on to something.

"Yes it is." He smiled in relief at the sign of life, returning to his work on the smaller girl flinching or gasping when he moved her. He walked across the room to the bag he had brought when he had gone to meet Annette. 


"Yes sir."  She smiled weakly,as he grabbed the small sowing kit (his father required he carry it around for situations very similar to this) from his bag and removed the smallest needle and a small spool of thread. He prepped the soon to be stitches and looked down at the paler than usual girl.


"Annette this may hurt, a lot, but I know what i"m doing. Do you trust me?"

"A tiny needle can't be as bad as getting stabbed." She muttered, a snarky grin pasted onto her face. He slowly but confidently weaved the needle in and out of her wound, closing it up stitch by stitch. She winced as he pulled the final stitch shut with a small pull. "Well Doctor Riley, where the hell'd you learn that." 

"Well Annette, growing up in a rough section of town does these things." He started to cover the wound with the t-shirt strips from earlier, using the extras to start cleaning the blood that had pooled around her. He picked the small blanket he had been given off of the floor. It wasn't much, but it was all he could really give to help her stay warm. She yawned, relaxing under the small weight of the blanket. "Bleeding does take the life out of you I guess, Goodnight Annette."

He sat down beside his currently occupied bed, and relaxed against the wall. Closed eyes were shot open by the small voice of the ginger, "Riley, I'm really sorry for ear-"

"Shut up and go to sleep." He laughed quietly. 

"But you're on the floor..."

"I'm used to it just close your eyes."

"Bu-" She began to protest, but stopped herself. She had already caused enough trouble as is and a reasurring thought stuck in her mind. One she had thought many times before, but never quite realized its meaning. Its okay to sleep now.  Riley's here and he won't let  the nightmares get you. Riley will protect you, Annette. You are safe, like before it happened. When you still had a home.

Annette had felt lost for years, like she was still searching for the safety and comfort that is a home. But she had always looked for a place, like Harvey and his books, where she could relax, let her guard down. She had found something like this, and she'd had it for a long time, but she'd never been able to say it. Whether it be her pride, her hard shell she'd developed, or just self doubt, the thing stopping her had clicked off, let her be free. 

Riley is my home, and I'm safe with him.

---

Making up for all of the short posts forever, i present a post that probaly took approx 3 hours and a lot of cringing and rewriting. Word Count: 1206

Riley smiled at the soft expression om the small ginger's face, illuminated by the small amounts of moonlight the makeshift ceiling couldn't cover. He yawned, the stress of his previous situation knocking any life he had left in him from earlier out. Yes, adrenaline had fueled his quick working, but no, it could not last forever. He watched the girl smile in her sleep before his eyes slowly closed, blanking out the world before him.

Everett Finely stood behind his desk, looking out on the land through the window behind it. His tall but thinner form casted an eerie shade trailing all the way down the longer room to the door. Being Admiral had its perks, he supposed, but he felt no need for the fancies he had inherited from the past admiral. He sighed in a dissapointed and bored tone. So both my sister and Brother have abandoned their posts. He had kept an eye on them, as soon as he'd heard they had joined the military. He never thought hi little scared brother who he had last seen when he was 3 would ever have the heart to be a soldier... he supposed he was still right.

"Admiral Finch?" The door opened and a small, black haired girl stood with a few files in hand. Everett couldn't believe his nickname from the first night of his training would still be the only name anyone knew even this high in military power. You sing quietly in your sleep one time when all of the others were playing a card game despite the fact that they were supposed to be sleeping and you are referred to as 'finch' the rest of your life.

"Yes?" He turned with a blank expression he almost always wore. Private Harper Jacobs was a short, pretty, flat girl, assigned to assist him in basic paper work. He had never quiye looked at her file, in which he had access to every one in the military, and he supposed he would do that later.

"There has been a rather large prison break." She spoke, very comfortable unlike many when speaking to him.

"Let me guess. One General Oliver Sol has escaped and left a few hundred dead in his path?"

"Yes, well, not quite. The guards were mainly slashed to death. It seemed to be the work of a highly experienced person."

"Any description of this highly experienced criminal?"

"An inmate described a girl with metal legs." His heart sunk a little, but he stopped himself. It could be anyone. The small girl continued, "she apparently had blades hidden in her prothstetics and had very long dark hair. She was too soaked in blood for the inmate to distinguish any more of her features."

Everett reached into his own personal collection of files. He had taken the files of his family and very close friends to prevent the use of them against him. He removed a thin file, and opened it up. He looked at the familiar face and called the private over. I thought you knew better than this Esther.