4522 {The Number Series}

29

"Archer," my brain felt fuzzy and my voice sounded distant. "I really thought I had you that time."

That was the last thing I remembered before the mat came rushing at my face.

*

*

When I woke up I was staring straight into harsh lights above me. I clamped my eyes shut tightly against them and groaned. My head and neck were hurting and so stiff I could barely move. I groaned again. Thoughts of crazed Archer came to mind. Had he done this?

"Remi?" A sleepy voice said next to me. "Remi?"

"Yes, Archer." I answered though I did not look at him. I could not bring myself to and not just because of the bright lights above.

"I am really sorry," I could feel him clutching my hand but I felt to weak to pull away or hold his back. I was not sure what I wanted to do anywhere so laying limp gave me an excuse to do nothing at all.

"Exactly what are you sorry for?" I asked. What had he done to me?

"For giving you a concussion with my elbow. You were all fired up and I thought you were really going to be able to do it that time. I got all excited-"

"You were excited?" I hissed at him. How had a bleeding lip from me and us fighting make him excited?

"Not because we were hurting each other," he rushed. "I thought you had made progress with your training. You did by the way. My swollen lip tells me that every time I look in the mirror. Just not where I thought he had suddenly reached."

"I make progress and you knock me out. Great."

"It was an accident," Archer tried to explain. The grip of his hand was becoming tighter. I squinted against the light to look at him. His lips were large and puffy, though his lips were usually large in the first place, but it was more than I was used to seeing. There was a small amount of pride in me for it. It may have only been one punch but there had been a lot of power in, and behind, it.

"Do I look bad?" I suddenly felt self conscious of the way I looked. If his lips looked bad then I more than likely appeared dead. I felt dead.

"You never look bad," he smiled. I tried to grip his hand but I felt too weak to do much. He noticed this before looking worried. His expression said it all. He really was sorry. "I took you right to the doctor here as soon as you fell."

"And he told you I would live?" I attempted to joke with him. It only made him look away from me. I had said the wrong thing. "Was it that bad?"

"You have been asleep for a while." His voice was hoarse.

"How long?"

"A couple of days. You went into a coma," his legs were shaking. "All we could do was wait."

"How long have you been here with me?" That is when I took the time to notice the bags under his eyes, the wild hair, and the same exact clothes I had seen him in last.

"I have been here the whole time." I let that process through my head. He had not done anything outside the little room with a single chair and bed for several days. I had a feeling he had hurt people like this before but he had not meant to hurt me. He wanted to hurt everyone and anyone but me. "I don't know what I would have done if you didn't wake up soon."

"It's alright," I softly assured him. I was alive and he was alive. That is what mattered to me. In the end, that is all that really mattered to me.

"I want to stop your training when you get better," he admitted. "But I can't."

"I know," his hand was warming mine. The heat was nice considering the sheets were too cool for my liking.

"I need you to be able to defend yourself. If something happens to me and you can't-" his voice drifted as if the thought of me being helpless was playing out in his mind. "It would be all my fault if you died."

"No, it wouldn't." I huffed. "It would be my fault. I am the one who can't fight to save my own life."

He looked away guiltily from me.

"Not that was what you were trying to do," I tried to back track. "You're just trying to protect me by teaching me how to protect myself."

He nodded in agreement but I knew it did not make him feel better about the situation. "It's just, after kissing you, I can't imagine loosing you and I am scared that the worst will happen. I almost caused the worst to happen and the enemy hasn't even gotten there chance."

My breath hitched at the mention of our kiss. A stupid part of had thought he had entirely disposed of the memory, which I knew would be impossible to do. Archer did not want to loose me. It had become a fear of his.

"How long do I have to stay in this room?" I asked to his disappointment as if he had actually wanted to talk about the kiss and our feelings.

"A few days now that you have woken up. They want to monitor you." He no longer wanted to look me in the eyes. I had upset him.

"Will you stay with me?" I regained his attention once again. I gave him a small smile. "And sleeping in a chair seems uncomfortable."

"It is," he agreed.

"It you want to, we can share the bed." He flushed bright red and I was sure my cheeks were mimicking his. "I just need you to move me over because I am too tired to do it myself."

He wrapped his arms around me and shifted me over before laying gently down next to me. He pulled the thin sheet over us. We had fallen asleep next to each other before but this was different. We had never shared an actually bed or covers with each other. Instead of holding just my hand he had his arms wrapped tightly around me in a warm embrace but he was careful not to squeeze too tight. His head rested on top of my hair. My neck tickled with each breath he took but I did not mind.

"Is this alright?" He checked with me before he became too comfortable.

"Yes," I laughed. "I am the one who invited you up here in the first place, remember?"

He had been exhausted from worrying about me. He fell asleep quickly as he held me in his arms. I listened to his soft snores and felt his chest rising and falling behind me. My stomach felt like little things were fluttering around in it, reminding me of the little butterflies that had fluttered around the forest. While I was comfortable I could not fall asleep. I was afraid that if I fell back asleep I would not wake up again. It was also hard to fall asleep after being out for so long in the first place. I had never felt more rested and that meant I had now never felt more awake.