VOLATILE (I) : peter pan ouat

When a Reconciliation Happened

"You've been out here for days." The voice rings out from behind me.

I shrug. "It's only been three."

"You can't blame yourself for Lyle's death." Robert presses on.

I aim another arrow at the tree. I shoot, and it hits the center. I aim and shoot again, hitting just above the arrow. I aim again, my fingers tremble and I miss the tree.

"I don't," I tell him, as I drop the bow, cradling my fingers in my hand.

I reach into my cloak, searching for more bandage, but I have none left.

"Robert, you're the medic, do you have bandages?" I ask.

He nods, ruffling through his own cloak. I quickly strip the bandages off my fingers, revealing the blood and blisters below.

"They won't get better until you stop shooting." He says, as he takes my hand, bandaging me up.

"Why is it any of your business, we barely talk." I say.

He squeezes my hands tighter and I wince. He smirks.

"Harry is worried about you, and Harry never shuts up, which makes everyone super bitter." He adds. "Specifically Alex."

"I didn't know you talked to the Old Geezer." Remembering the conversation I had with him.

He shrugs. "They've always hung around the Medic tent, and we do share a tent at night you know. They're great guys; just old fashioned."

I nod, trying to pull my hands from his, but he doesn't let go.

"You know, breaking your fingers isn't going to bring him back." He says. "It's not your fault he's dead."

"I know." I rip my hands out, moving back to the bow and firing another arrow. It stings but it hits just above the previous arrow. "It's my fault he's alive."

"Lyle's dead." Robert interjects, a puzzled expression across his face.

I shake my head. "No, Gregory."

Robert rolls his eyes, stepping back. "You know, if you are out here tomorrow, Alex said he'll come and break your fingers."

"You know, I'm not use to my doctor threatening to hurt me in order to help heal me." I say as I fire off my final arrow.

Robert snorts out his nose. "I play hardball. You don't seem in the mood to be convinced without the threat of force."

I drop the bow. My aim is much better now than before, but my fingers are twitching and cramping from all the pain.

"Whatever, let's just get back to camp."

I arrive at the clearing as dinner is served. I don't bother rushing for food; I ate earlier, I don't feel that hungry. Robert doesn't dash forward either, instead he is greeted by James, who hands him a plate of food.

"We have plates?" I ask.

Alex rolls his eyes. "You're such a New."

"And you're such an ass." I retort.

James whistles, slapping me on the back, as Robert chuckles.

"Plunter doesn't know what an ass is," Alex says. "It's a donkey."

He is so old. I don't bother arguing though. I can't get through to him.

They sit down closer to Jared's tent, which I assume belongs to these four. Most tents have six people; I wonder who the last one is. I don't care to ask.