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It takes us a few moments and I rue the tears that come to her eyes when I moan at the movement, but eventually she helps me get settled leaning against the wall. Sweat has broken out all over my body, and my right arm hangs limply at my side. Exhaling strongly through my nose, I try to block out the pain. It’s not the first time this has happened, but it sucks every time. It’s so different from the pleasant sting of the blade.
“Here,” she says and holds out a water skin. I let her squirt some into my mouth, swishing and spitting out the first mouthful. When I do its tinged pink and red. I gingerly move my tongue around my mouth but luckily, I don’t think I lost any teeth. When she gives me another sip, I swallow gratefully. The entire time she is watching me and the worried look on her face is making a little crease between her brows.
“You look cute when you’re worried,” I tell her, and she graces me with a hint of a smile that quickly drops.
“What can I do?” she asks. I sigh on a long breath and consider. The water and rest I did get have rejuvenated me slightly, but my body is still screaming at me. The weakness grates at my soul.
“I need you to help me pop my shoulder back in,” I tell her, cringing inwardly at the sensation I know I am about to feel. “I just need you to hold it above my elbow here, and push of up slowly.”
She looks at me doubtfully, glancing down at my limp arm and biting her lip.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
I chuckle. “Ana, I’m already hurt. It’ll help. You can do this.” Her doubtful expression turns determined as she places her hands where I showed her. I try not to flinch, but even the lightest touch is excruciating when it’s like this.
“Like this?”
“Yes,” I reply through clenched teeth, “hold really firm and go slow. When you get the right spot, it should pop right in.”
I find myself focusing on her face as she begins to push, anything to ignore the agony pulsing through me. She sticks her tongue out when she’s concentrating. The pain increases as she struggles to keep her grip on my elbow, sweat breaking out on her forehead.
“I-I can’t get it!” she sobs, and I finally breathe again when she drops her hands, my arm falling limply to my side once more. Fuck, that hurt. I try not to let it show.
“It’s okay, we can try again later.” I bring up my other hand and touch her face. I want to reassure her, to tell her it’ll be okay, but that’s hard to do right now. I can barely move or breathe, and tomorrow I have to fight Cole. Ana watches me with concern, and I know she too knows the truth. There is no way I can win, not like this.
“No, I can do it,” she says, rolling up her too big sleeves. I finally take in what she is wearing and frown. “Ethan came by,” she comments lightly, seeing me staring at the familiar shirt. “He’ll try to come back. He gave us the water.”
I nod, grateful he wasn’t taken too. He’s always been smarter than me. A survivor, a thinker. I don’t doubt he can’t do much to help this situation, but I’m still glad he’s alright.
“Okay, let’s do this,” she says, scrunching up her face again. I breathe out heavily and brace my mind for the impending pain.
“One, two…”
I feel a clunk deep inside as the joint settles back into place and I sigh in relief, flexing my fingers. It hurts like a bitch, but in a different and infinitely more manageable way. The agony is now more of a dull throbbing.
“I did it!”
I give her a faint smile. The satisfied smile on her face is like an instant salve and I carefully bring my arm into my lap and lean back, grimacing at the movement on my ribs. She frowns and that cute little spot on her brow is back.
“Now what else can we do to make you comfortable…”
For the next little while, I allow Ana to tend to me as she wants to. I know it’s pointless, there is nothing she can do that will prepare me for tomorrow, but I think it makes her feel better to be useful. And I’ll take any excuse I can get to have her hands on me.
When she goes to remove her shirt to make me a sling, I refuse, and the moment is shattered.
“Don’t,” I say, halting her right before she begins to rip the fabric. She narrows her eyes on me and continues to tug until I bring up a hand to hers. She pauses and looks up into my eyes.
“Stay warm,kinza. My arm will be fine, and tomorrow’s outcome will not change, sling or no.”
Looking into her eyes I see her brave facade begin to melt away as her lower lip begins to quiver. A tear spills over from her eyes and whatever she sees on my face finally breaks her as she begins to sob. Using my good arm, I reach over, not caring about my ribs, and pull her closer to me.
I don’t know how long we sit like that, her curled up beside me bawling into my chest. The whole time I whisper reassurances and words of love in her ear. I pour my heart out to her, baring my soul for the first time in my life.
I’m ashamed to admit at this moment I become the thing I hate most, a coward. I tell her I love her in languages she doesn’t understand. I do this because I am not strong enough to hear her say it back and know that tomorrow, I will die.
Ana falls asleep quickly on me and while I don’t sleep, I doze in that partially conscious place between awake and asleep. Something between dreams and daydreams flood my mind, scenarios and images playing through my head. Scenarios of my defeat tomorrow, which surprisingly doesn’t bother me very much. Pain? Death? Those are basically daily occurrences. It isn’t until my mind wanders beyond, to the place after my death, that something changes inside of me.
I see visions of Ana being taken by Cole, ruined and punished and hurt again and again. Ana being raped, used, tortured. Visions of her needing me, only I’m not there. My entire body seems to heat up, the intensity of my anger refueling my determination.
