Here Be Dragons (Completed)

Inaudible

I was utterly flabbergasted at the gentle, tender way in which he handled me, like he was terrified he'd break me and the unexpected compassion had me relaxing into the hold. It had been a long time since someone had touched me in such a way, out of kindness instead of cruelty, and I swallowed the painful lump in my throat as Silas carried my down the stairs.

He didn't set me down at the bottom and I hadn't expected him to, so I made no sign of complaint as he proceeded to walk through the corridors of the still silent house until he reached the door to the basement. He sent me a questioning glance and I once again nodded gingerly, wincing since the movement hurt my sore neck and he pursed his lips as his eyes stared at my throat. I must have had bruising, discoloration in the shape of a thin line from a piano wire and the impressions of Kota's hands, and the sight must have disturbed him because he jerked his eyes away and descended downwards into their horror basement.

My shoulder had been cleaned and dressed but I still felt dried blood caking my skin, and I decided that once I was sure of everyone's fates, I'd request a bath. A bath and some chocolate lava cake. Maybe some ice cream. Chocolate chip pancakes eaten in footie pajamas decorated with dinosaurs. Oh wait, Luke was probably dead so that last one was out. 

Silas passed Kota's lab and my brows furrowed in confusion but I obviously remained quiet as we continued our somber track through the creepy corridor. After another few minutes and several turns later, we stopped in front of an unassuming door that, for once, didn't have a keypad for security. I could hear a rhythmic beeping coming from inside that reminded me of a hospital and I felt goosebumps skitter over my skin. I wasn't going to like what was behind that door. 

I reached out my hand anyway, ignoring the dull throbbing from my arm where Kota had nicked me, and clasped the door handle, and I took a moment to steel myself for whatever I was about to see before I turned the handle until it clicked open. The even beeping continued undisturbed and the door swung open noiselessly as I settled back into Silas's arms. I needed his warmth as well as his strength to keep me from crumpling inwards as I took in the view before me. 

Luke was in a hospital bed, his skin as pale and deathly as a cadaver, and there were wires attached to his body in countless places, some with needles and others with adhesive. The easy tempo was tracking his heart rate and there was a large patch of gauze on his chest from where I assumed the bullet had hit him, the dressing disappearing into a hospital gown. There was an IV in his hand, the same hand that was currently clutched in North's huge paw as the giant sat beside his brother, somehow looking larger and broader compared the small, suffocating space we were in. 

Gabriel sat on Luke's other side, humming a tune under his breath that sounded a lot like Blue Suede Shoes and claiming Luke's second hand. Owen stood behind North, his back leaning against the wall as his arms rested over his chest and I noticed immediately that he hadn't changed. He was still dressed in the black pants and shirt from last night but his hair and face reflected his normally refined look, like he'd taken an moment to smooth down the frenzied strands and wash his face free of blood. In a chair beside Owen, sat Nathan, his serious blue eyes trained on the heart monitor as he fingered the gauze bandaging his injured ear. 

Sean sat beside Gabriel, his feet propped up on the hospital bed close to Luke's as he fiddled with his phone, his face grim and tired as he attempted to appear unaffected by the gravity in the atmosphere. The sound of fingers flying over computer keys stole my attention next as I took in Victor, dressed in a pair of lavender scrubs that were a little too big on him, working tirelessly on one of his many laptops. He didn't have an IV or anything that hinted at medical interventions, so I assumed my stab wound had been mostly superficial, though as he shifted in his seat, I got a flash of white from the dressing on his side along with a small grimace of pain. Okay, not life threatening, but not a cake walk either. 

Last but not least, my gaze found Kota and my mixed emotions swirled through me, making me even more confused as I took in his haggard and bruised appearance. His lip was split and his right eye was puffy, causing his glasses to sit crooked on his face, but it was the pastiness of his skin and heavy bags beneath his eyes that showcased his exhaustion and dejection. His lips moved wordlessly and I guessed that he was counting and had been for a while. I wasn't great at reading lips and since his were swollen, it made it even more difficult to distinguish, but I was pretty sure he was in the tens of thousands. He looked like death. Correction: Luke looked death but Kota looked like he wished he was dead and it was somehow worse. 

I received eight quick glances as Silas and I entered the room but no one spoke or gave any real reaction to my presence. I noted the equally bruised face of North as he peeked my way but other than swelling in his cheek, a black eye, and discoloration along his jaw, I couldn't distinguish anything else wrong with him. Apparently, North and Kota hadn't killed each other after all. It was a small relief. 

Silas lowered me into a chair near the foot of Luke's bed before retrieving his own chair and setting it next to mine. I reached my hand out, keeping an eye on the others as they tracked the movement, and they all seemed to hold their breath, relaxing their muscles marginally when my hand came to rest on top of Luke's foot over the blanket. I kept my touch light and gentle, not wanting to hurt or wake him and the collective breath was released, though it did nothing to ease the tension in the room. We were all taut from the stress of Luke's injury, and the room remained heavy with a morose, gloomy despair, the silence broken only by the beeping of Luke's pulse, the vicious tapping of Victor's computer keys, Gabriel's on and off again humming, and Kota's incessant counting.

We took vigil around Luke's bedside, never really moving except for bathroom breaks. We didn't eat, we didn't sleep, we didn't speak. It was as if the world had halted, coming to a stand still as we awaited the blond model to wake and open his eyes, but he didn't. He slept, unaware of the fear etched in the lines of his brother's face, the worry and concern that weighed on my heart, and the guilt crushing Kota's shoulders until he was curled in on himself, focused on nothing but his clear self loathing. I didn't want to pity him but it was hard not to as he continued counting upwards like a mantra. I wondered what he thought would happen when he reached the end. I mean, you couldn't count forever, could you?

It was a melancholy atmosphere, no one willing to break the stillness for fear that it would destroy something important and irreparable, and so we remained, sitting in silence as we waited on baited breath for something, anything to happen. The quiet was smothering and stifling, choking the very vitality from each of us but we were unable to fight it, so we surrendered. There was nothing else to do, really, so we sat. We waited. We choked.