The Fire Didn't Stop Her

Learning What You've Done

His head was pounding, his chest nearly caving in on itself. There was a burning sensation in the middle of his chest to top it off. But nothing had compared to the nightmare that accumulated in his mind while he was sleeping.

Wolf had dreamed that Scarlet had been kidnapped by Sybil Mira. That she'd actually been taken from him, to Luna. Just the thought was enough to make him shiver.

Wearily, Wolf sat up in his bunk and held a firm hand over his stomach. There was padding under his shirt and what felt a lot like stitches beneath. He guessed he'd been shot, and a faint memory of a bullet piercing his skin slowly came around.

Yet, the nightmare that Scarlet had been taken wouldn't go away. He knew she was probably alright, but he needed to see her, to see her face and to know she was here. Not on that wretched rock planet.

"Scarlet," he called out. The action crushed the little space in his chest he had left and squeezed his wound. Still, the worse pain was when Scarlet didn't answer.

"Scarlet?" he repeated, twice as loud as the first time. No reply.

His breathing became more and more staggered. The weird thing was that Wolf couldn't remember the last time he talked to Scarlet ... except for his nightmare. But that couldn't have been the last time they spoke. That had been a dream. A bad dream that Wolf had created in his messed up head.

"Scar!" Yelling out so loud made him bend over in agony. He felt like he was pulling his stitches more the more he spoke. But he needed Scarlet to be okay.

Sucking in a deep breath, Wolf threw his legs over the side of the bunk and sat on the edge. His abdomen groaned in denial and didn't agree with what the rest of his body was trying to do.

Too bad, he thought to himself. You can rest when you know Scarlet's safe.

Ducking his head, he stood up from the frame of the bunk.

Worse. Decision. Ever.

The moment his spine was parallel to the wall, his stomach closed into itself and the rest of his abdomen attempted to curl into a ball. All of the tension in his body eventually made him throw up. And what managed to come up was nothing but stomach acids. The taste and compounds in the mess burned his throat and the sides of his lungs.

Just as he hurled, his legs gave way and let his body fall to the ground. And if standing up had made his stomach and sides hurt, falling onto his side made them want to cry. The wind was knocked out of him and dragged across the floor when his side hit the ground. His lungs wheezed for air as he was vomiting.

The pain reminded him of what the lunar scientists who were in charge of his "transformation" did to him, and the side affects that came with it.

Wolf heard the door open. Maybe Scarlet finally heard him and had just came a little late. He begged to all the stars that that was what happened.

A pair of hands wrapped around one of his arms. He knew they weren't Scarlet's the instant they touched him, because one was stiff and colder than ice. Cinder.

She strained to help him up just like he was straining to sit up. Sooner or later, they got him propped up against the frame of the bunk.

"Where's Scarlet?" Wolf coughed. Cinder ignored him for a second to wipe his face with a rag. Like he was a child. He pushed the cloth away and asked again. "Where is she?"

The princess's expression was grim. She looked to his wound and seemed to examine it while it was still under his shirt. She wouldn't say a word.