Raven

Chapter Thirteen - Poison

A/N- heads up guys, prepare for girl emotions towards the end of this chapter. Edited 14/08. I love you all, my hatchlings!

- May

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Time passes while I am unconscious. I don't know how long. It can't be more than a few hours, though, I think as I slowly come to. But, on the bright side, my shackles are off and there is an open door leading to a bathroom about five metres to my right. I slowly stand up, my legs shaking as I do so, and hobble over to the side room, still coughing occasionally. My head and side aches as if I've been running all day. Except, you know, with bullets and claws.

The first thing I notice is my reflection in the mirror above the sink. A scared, bloody, weary-looking girl with blonde, knotted hair looks back at me, wide blue eyes shining with tears. Me. I look vulnerable, weak, and useless. And I hate it. I see that the blood on my face has dried as it fell, and move my left hand to gently touch the ragged flesh. It stings like hell. As does the bullet wound at my waist, every time I breathe. So I take shallower breaths.

Looking around, I see some first aid supplies in a box, and pull them to the sink where I stand. Ow, that hurt, I think as I take a step and stretch to get the little green package. Inside, I find bandages, antiseptic cream, a few gauze pads ... it will do for now. I grab some toilet paper, and run it under the tap before gently beginning to dab the blood off my cheek. Ouch, ouch, ouch, I think as I go, hoping that the head wound isn't as bad as I think because they tend to bleed a lot.

About ten minutes later, I decide to patch up both of my major wounds, seeing as the bullet really only put a really painful dent in me, and my head doesn't hurt as much. It isn't as bad as I'd feared, either, but I can see a tiny little bit of bone at the top. Not a good thing. So I put a gauze pad on it, as well as the antiseptic stuff (which makes my eyes water and me want to cry out), and then I bandage around my head to keep it in place. I'll probably need stitches when I get out. If I get out. Then, moving to my waist, I repeat the process, wishing I had some asprin. Everything hurts, especially where I put the antiseptic stuff.

When I'm done, I hobble out of the bathroom, and sit down in the chair again, my legs dangling over one side. On the table beside it, I see a red apple, with a note attached. The note reads, We figured that we might as well not let you starve just yet. - CG

Figures that they're going to probably hold me for ransom. If Wills lets them take the bait, that is. I'm hungry, though. As in, really, seriously hungry. But it's not surprising, since I haven't eaten in a full day, at least. I get into a more comfortable position on the chair; pretty much the way I was sitting before I got up the first time. I take a bite of the apple, and immediately feel woozy. Shit, that was a bad idea, I think before I fall asleep again, hitting the back of my head on the chair.

Is it cliche that they've given me a poisoned apple? I think as a dream materialises around me.

I still stand in the room with the scary metal chair, and my three captors are present again. But this time, every wall is transparent, and I'm not the one in the seat. Acrobolt is. And I stand about three metres away, too far away to help him. My stomach drops as my friend struggles against the bonds that hold him, and I try to take a step towards them, but I can't move.

No! I cry out as Black Jack raises the staff, and touches it not to the armrest, but to the bare skin on Acrobolt's right shoulder. My friend's back arches as electricity flows through him, and when the staff is finally pulled away, I can move. I run over, and the three Samurai vanish into mist, but I don't notice that suspicious vanishing act. My attention is on Acrobolt, who is obviously dying. No, no, no, I think, gently smoothing the now-dark hair from his face as tears run down my cheeks.

It's okay, you'll be okay, please don't die, I whisper frantically, now taking his pulse. Slowly, beat after beat, his heartbeat falters, and, suddenly ... it's gone.

I wake up suddenly, my face wet with tears and my breath coming in short bursts, to find someone undoing my shackles. Well, trying to. I make a quiet noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan as I hear a very familiar voice with an American accent, muttering: "Almost got it ... shit. No I don't."