Falling Skies

Twenty

There's a slight jumble of noise from the dark before a cheery, "Look who's up." As Ryder bounces into the clearing.

December can't deny the fact that he looks reborn. His skin brighter, expressions clearer as he gifts a glowing smile in their direction. Everything about him has a shimmer to it, the way he bounces barefoot through the woods, mud sticking to his feet though he doesn't seem to take notice.

He's already torn the 'Haven' label off of his clothing, a slight hole left in the fabric that flaps in the oncoming breeze. Ryder's at peace. No longer worried, no longer hunted, purely free as he sits on the ground next to his cousin, his knee rubbing against Wren's thigh before plopping onto the dirt.

"How did you sleep?" Ryder smiles. Genuinely, truly smiles. It isn't the sly, mischievous grin that was often flashed under Haven's watch.

December swallows back his awe. "Drugged?" He shrugs, physically shaking his head as if attempting to stir up the thoughts he'd lost. "I feel like I died? I think Abrahm might have actually." He adds, turning back around to face the entrance of the tent. "He's knocked out cold in there."

Ryder and Wren both shuffle, their lips pressed tight as if stiffling a laugh they can't contain. "You'll both be fine, I'm sure the effects are temporary." Ryder snickers, a hand coming up to brush back his messy black hair.

As his hand falls back towards his lap, December catches it in his own, his grip tightening on the boy's wrist as he attempts to pull free.

"What happened?" He whispers.

The appendage is poorly wrapped in dirtied bandages already stained a dark brown. And as December unwraps each layer the sight only becomes worse. They're barely recognizable, just mangled pieces of flesh in tones of red and purple. Merely deadened, black flesh resting on his fingertips before fading out into taut brown skin.

Pieces of his palm are worn away, exposing dried blood and pus covered holes in his skin. Only the last third of his hand near his wrist seems to have survived whatever damage he has gone through, the skin healthy but hot to the touch.

Even Wren glances away from the gruesome sight, his bright eyes darkened and downcast as a hand subconsciously falls at his mouth in sickened shock.

Wren can barely glance over, his eyes choosing to squeeze shut to spare him the scene. "Ryder..." he begs, the name slow and dragging out in pain. "It wasn't that bad yesterday."

"It's oka-"

"You have third degree burns, Ryder," December instantly cuts in, his hands cradling his cousins' as he bites back the words he so desperately wants to cry out. "How did this happen to you?"

"I couldn't hack into the operating room fast enough so I ripped the wires with my hands." It comes out in one quick breath, his eyes downcast though they refuse to fall on his own mangled flesh. There's a part of him that still fears his older cousin, that has him cowering in fear at the young surgeon's response to his own stupidity.

Ryder knows that he shouldn't have done it, it's a thought that crosses his mind with each pulsating pain running through his wrecked nerves. But when he glances over at Wren, his small hand drawing in the earth, the pain seems to fade if only for a moment, as if the world is reminding him that his pain is worth this view.

"If I had supplies with me I could maybe try to graft the skin? Or maybe just peel back the damaged skin and hope that the new one can grow back? Foster an environment that aids in the cell regeneration-"

"December."

The word has December stopping dead in his tracks. The name foreign as it chimes out of Wren's lullaby throat. The name too soft, too smooth to belong to him.

"I can heal him I just need some herbs." The two exchange an unknown glance, as if there are words to be exchanged but both are too afraid to speak their thoughts. "He'll be fine." Wren reassures him, a small hand falling upon December's broad shoulder.

It's a touch that radiates through his core, his body slightly drawing in on itself in response to the sensation. Yet deep within it brings a slight comfort to him, a warmness that whispers trust.

Ryder coughs, breaking the stare between the two. "Well then uh, we better get going." He awkwardly rocks, confusion clear on his face at the interaction.

With a slight nod December finds himself on his feet, grabbing his cousin by the wrist before heading into the depths of the woods, the clearing slowly disappearing behind them as they travel together into the unknown.