Wreathed in Sin, Wrought by Destiny

Chapter Seven

--M--

For once, Meliodas found himself ignoring Hawk's cries as he sprinted through the forest, heading for the source of—wait, was that Gilthunder flying (or, more accurately, hurtling) overhead? A flicker of relief burned within him at that—she can't be dead, not if her enemy is defeated, there's no way she'd fall now, right?—but he didn't slow his pace. The impact of the explosion had felt...off, and the prince was fairly certain that Diane had called out Elizabeth's name (and not in celebration; in anger, fear, fury).

What if she is dead? a particularly nasty voice in the back of his mind whispered. What if she died because you were too busy chasing after a stupid little piggy to save the Sin of Wrath?

Hawk isn't stupid, he protested mentally, before realizing that he probably shouldn't be having an argument with a cruel voice in his head. Still, he couldn't shake the guilt and the fear and the mess of ugly, twisted emotions bouncing around within him at the very idea of Elizabeth lying dead—wings sliced off, mutilated, her blue eyes dull as glass. Tears pricked at his eyes at the thought and he wiped them away with a gasp, bursting into the clearing—and skidding to a halt.

"You're bleeding!"

Elizabeth glanced at him, grinning that grin that always made him feel as if everything would be fine. It didn't reassure him now, though, his gaze drawn to the horrible gash that stained her cross-laced shirt with blood and ripped through her left wings, no doubt reaching her back. Why is she smiling? Stop SMILING, you've been gashed by a freaking SWORD, I know you're super strong and everything but that still looks really, really painful— "What, this?" she inquired, breaking him out of his panicked mental rambling. "Just a scratch. Really, it's nothing."

"Nothing?!" Overwhelmed with panic, shoulders shaking and his heart beating rapidly in his chest, he gestured wildly at the wound. He wasn't sure why he was so worried (surely she knew her strength better than he did?), but an instinct, bone-deep and irresistible, screamed at him to worry for her because goddamnit, someone had to. If past experience was anything to go by, she certainly wasn't going to do it for herself. "There's blood everywhere, your left wings have nearly been sliced off—"

"The Captain can handle herself!" Diane interrupted hotly. Meliodas found himself narrowly resisting the urge to punch the Sin of Envy in the ankles (not that he could even reach her ankles); didn't she see all that blood? Sin of Wrath or not, Knights died because of untreated wounds all the time. He wasn't going to let that happen to Elizabeth, even if he had to—to join a monastery and become a healing monk or something.

"I really don't think—"

"Meliodas," Elizabeth interrupted, setting her hands on his shoulders. He stiffened guiltily under her touch and averted his eyes. Who am I to tell her what to do? She's probably been hurt like this before and come out fine; she's Elizabeth, for the gods' sakes. The Sin of Wrath. But still... "Trust me, I'll be fine."

He bit down hard on his lip, willing himself not to argue, and nodded.

----

He wasn't sure when the steady rocking of the Boar Hat on top of Hawk Mama's back had become such a comfort, but the swaying of the tavern had become as natural and as easy to navigate as the most solid of floors. Meliodas found it soothing now as he tended (clumsily; he had a little experience with healing, but not as much as he'd like. As strong as the Sins were, it looked as if they didn't have a healer, and they'd sorely need one on this journey) to Hawk's burns, cracking a smile as the pig vowed revenge on Gilthunder.

His smile faltered at the thought of his once-friend. I looked up to you. I wanted to be just like you. You were the only person I'd possibly thought worthy of Margaret. What happened to you, Gil? He sighed and rested his head on the table before raising his eyes to the half-fixed scabbard and drawing it reluctantly into his lap. Have to keep moving. If you start thinking, you won't be able to stop, and you'll get lost...and get hurt.