Ender's War

Chapter 18 - Lost

He was expecting to see the nurse or one of the assigned members of the Battle School staff that was on shift to watch over Petra, but instead he was met with someone else. Someone who he definitely didn't expect to see here.

"Ender." He breathed, taking in the sight of his commander, and quickly wiping his eyes.

Ender looked terrible. He always looked a little rough for wear, and their entire Jeesh knew that it was because of his commitment to the I.F. and his usual lack of sleep, but this was different.

The older teen's usually well put together semi-casual Admiral attire was beyond wrinkled, his sleeves were unbuttoned and pulled up beyond his elbows, his collar was undone and revealed a little too much of his chest, and his standard military boots were beginning to become untied. Ender's blonde locks were in an unruly mass on top of his head, dark purple bags were prominently visible underneath his eyes, and his complexion resembled Petra's.

The sight terrified Bean more than he thought it would, as Ender's cold eyes met his, and all Bean could see was pain. The usual closed off expression that Ender gave no longer existed, and was replaced with a sickening agony that Bean didn't know how to comprehend.

He looked weak, and Bean wondered if Petra's extended stay in the medical wing was what brought on Ender's apparent mental collapse. Perhaps it was too much for the young Admiral. Maybe his weakness was finally revealed.

"I..." Bean didn't know how to start. "I didn't expect to see you here. Weren't you observing the Launchies?"

Ender visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing along his throat as he did.

"No, I, uh, was with Graff actually." He answered thoughtfully, though his throat was burning, and his voice sounded rough from his time spent in the bathroom.

Bean rose his eyebrows with confusion, making no effort to hide his emotions from Ender. It wasn't wise of him to when the latter was being so open himself. Whether it was intentional or not, it didn't matter.

"Is there bad news?" He questioned. "Cause you look terrible."

Ender shrugged, and slowly dragged himself further into the room. He sat on the other side of Petra and slipped his sickeningly pale hand into her own. He entwined his fingers with hers and looked back up at Bean.

"There's never any good news lately."

Bean sighed. "True, but whatever the Warsaw Pact has done, I know you'll come up with something better to defeat them."

Ender laughed. Or coughed. Bean wasn't sure what it was. It was a foreign sound that Bean didn't expect to hear come from Ender, and he was once again met with Ender's blood shot eyes.

"It's not that."

He held Bean's gaze after that, almost as if he were searching his soul for something. His stare was so intense that after a while, Bean found himself wanting to look away. It was strange, yes, but the intense emotion behind Ender's look was devastating. He couldn't move his eyes even though he wanted to.

"It was about Mazer."

Ender trained his eyes back onto Petra's unconscious form, and used his free hand to brush away a hair that had fallen free over her face.

"I'm sorry." Ender turned his attention completely to Petra, and Bean could see his eyes beginning to turn glossy.

"Hey, it's not your fault Ender." Bean interrupted him. He wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, but he knew how much he didn't like human contact. Instead of comforting him, Bean knew that it would only make him flinch.