I Didn't Want to Fall in Love With You (A Dylan Schmid/ Baelfire fanfiction)

Chapter 22: His Word

"You don't have to follow me," I yelled to Peter as I made my way up to open air. It was lighter out now, the sun was rising and the cool night air was disappearing.

"I want to." He shouted back.

I continued trudging through the mud determined to get to the camp. The only one who knew this island like the back of his hand was Peter, and I really didn't feel like talking to him. I knew he was using me, but there were brief seconds, moments, I indulged in him.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and flash us back to camp."

"It wouldn't kill you to be nice you know."

My heels were sinking into the mud, but I turned around to face him. "Nice? Nice. You want me to be nice? Look where 'nice' has gotten me. I'm heel deep in mud, the only people who have ever cared about me are gone and it's all my fault, and I'm here talking to you when we should be at camp gathering help to find them; and you want me to be nice?" I was laughing hysterically now.

He took a few steps forward and grabbed my wrist. "Not going to lie," he said. "it's going to hurt."

"What is?"

"Just take a deep breath and breath out on three."

"Peter?"

"You're going to feel like you're on fire, and your bones are being ripped out of your body." his hand tightened. "Whatever you do. Don't let go."

I tried pulling away, but his grip was tight. "Peter what are you-"

"One." he started counting down.

I took a deep breath, "two."

I closed my eyes, "three."

It hurt. That's all I have to say, he made it sound better than it actually was. Let's just leave it at that.

"Boys!" he shouted. I opened my eyes and didn't even realize I was on my knees, doubled over. Several of them came rushing out to me, thinking I was hurt.

Dylan placed his hand on my back, "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"Fine." I groaned, holding my stomach.

Peter looked down at us, "First time traveling it would seem." he laughed to himself while all the boys gave him a shocked looked. "Anyways...we need to find Baelfire and James Hook. Groups now."

As Peter barked orders, Dylan helped me to my feet and lead me across the camp to a tent. "Dylan, give her a bottle of nectar and have her lay down. I'll be in there in a moment."

He lead me into a white tent behind all the others. The tent flaps were red, with a large white cross in the center. "The medic tent," Dylan explained as he pulled open the flap and lead me inside. "Not as nice as the other tents, but big. This is where all the boys go when they're hurt. When we arrived we learned a certain protocol. Have them sit on the beds," he gestured to the long line of cots and placed a hand on my shoulder pushing me down gently on one. "Give them nectar, and wait for Peter."

He left my side and walked over to a big amour at the end of the tent. "What happens if it's Peter who's hurt?" I asked as he opened the doors and pulled out a syringe, a small bottle with amber colored liquid, and a small square packet.

"It's never happened before, but Felix does know a lot more than we do when it comes to injuries. That might be because he's always been with him when he comes in."

I nodded as he opened the square packet and pulled out a disinfecting wipe. "Don't worry," he nodded. "I know what I'm doing."

He placed his hand on my forearm, the cloth smelled of rubbing alcohol. When he was done wiping the crook of my arm he took a cap off the needle of the syringe and placed it in the bottle of nectar. He pulled the plunger of the syringe and placed the needle by the crook of my arm. He was about to puncture the skin when Peter walked in. "It's okay," he said. "I've got it from here."

He handed the needle to Peter and walked out. I watched as he sat on the foot of the bed and looked up at me. "You seem tense." he said.

"Worried." I nodded.

"About what? Needles? Bae? Hook? Me?"

We locked eyes when he said 'me'. "I don't know what to think of you anymore."

"I haven't changed since you first met me."

"And that's what worries me."

"What?" he asked, dropping his eyes and scooting closer.

"Are you really going to find them?" I asked.

He reached out and grabbed my forearm, "I will."

"Are you going to use them to get to me?" His hand lingered above my vein for a moment, before he shook his head.

"One, two, three." He counted slowly before admitting the nectar.

I winced, but then my body felt an overwhelming sense of relief. "Thank you." I whispered.

"No problem." He stood up and walked towards the door. "You have my word," he whispered as he held the tent flap.

I don't know how long it took me to fall asleep, but I remember waking up and wishing I hadn't.