THE WANDERING LOSS [SIAL]

[AKANE]

It was a void of nothingness; intent and direction cut off from an exhausted mind refusing to process. It was a heavy awareness, and just keeping reality from crashing into her existence took all the energy her mind could generate. Understanding, reason, acceptance – they were all held at bay as a dam to a great river. Akane walked slowly through the sand dunes, her blue-grey eyes were dry and blood shot. She stared out into the world vacantly as if she looked at everything at once, hoping something would sink in. Her long dark hair was pushed this way and that in the winds as she walked, tangling wildly. Tear stains trailed down her tanned face and her arms were folded around her middle unconsciously against the weather. She stopped and looked back. Why was she here again? The gears began to turn and immediately her mind was assaulted by memories. His smile, his bare shoulders under her touch, his kiss, their fingers intertwined, his lips. Moments, all those precious little moments. Her knees failed her and she sank to the ground. Only instinct called her hands to catch her fall and there she remained for long moments – trying to catch her breath. She was running away from a single fact, the unbearable knowledge that was too hard to accept and too painful to survive. She couldn’t do it. So she stood slowly and carefully, and continued to walk. Akane did not see the shifters in the distance, but as they made their way straight to her it was obvious they had been watching for a long time. When they reached her she stopped. Their mouths moved, but she couldn’t concentrate on them. A hand seized her hair and the pain shook her free of the fog as she cried out in pain, her hands reaching back as she tried to claw herself free. What are you doing here, you need to leave and NOT come back, a stern voice ground out. There was movement and a call of alarm. She’s wounded. Several minutes went by after arguments and she was thrown back to the ground. The world would not stay put, and suddenly there was a fierce pain to her middle and she hissed, clutching the tiny bump that had formed below her belly button. Had someone kicked her? She looked down and realized her bottom half was soaked and heavy. She lifted her hand and peered at it in confusion. It was covered in a rich warm scarlet. Distantly she wondered how paint had gotten on her when the metallic smell hit her nose. Blood. It didn’t make sense there was so much. She looked down just as another agonizing pain churned her insides. She screamed and everything faded blissfully away. Flashes came to her, like different pieces to movies she had never seen. She was being carried; the sky was clear and blue then faded into a black night. Black as the eyes of a dark man that peered down at her, his brow furrowed as he spoke to her. His voice sounded like the distant thunder that seemed to roll past her as she lay in a tent for an endless age. Dreams feathered or tore between her bouts of wakefulness, good dreams beautiful dreams … and terrible ones. Once she was awakened to the same face of the dark eyed man as he spoke to her. “Koko wa doko?” she asked in Japanese without thought. Her abdomen ached brutally as did her head. Her mouth was dry and someone lifted her shoulders to pour cool water into her mouth. She drank greedily before slipping back into her fever. Ostat'sya zdes'!' Slansky's voice echoed into her mind a thousand times. TRANSLATIONS________ “Koko wa doko?” - Where am I? Ostat'sya zdes'!' - Stay here!

[CARNASSIAL]

He sat back from the girl with a sigh, dragging a hand over his face. This sort of thing was not in his job description. Lacerations and concussions were the more common problems he encountered when accompanying patrols. Dropping his hand back into his lap, he watched, frustrated, as she stirred restlessly. He’d be the first to admit that his rotation in obstetrics had been some time ago, but he shouldn’t be this useless. Wistfully, he ran through the mental list of equipment he’d like to have. Admittedly, most of the items would currently serve as excellent paperweights, since they’d require electricity to function, but a man could dream.

With another sigh, he set about tidying up the tiny tent he was sharing with the girl. (It had been his tent, but heaven forbid one of the scouts or hunters be put out.) There was no use in dwelling on the matter. Even with all the technology available, sometimes these things still happened. She might have very well lost the baby even if she was at a premier research hospital.

What had her ringmates been thinking, letting her wander so far into the desert? She had been delirious when they found her, and now she was stuck with a bunch of Carna, which likely wouldn’t end well for her. With a frown, Carnassial roused the girl to give her more water before letting her drift off again. He also gave her another trickle of healing energy, concerned that the bleeding might start again, then settled in with his journal. He was compiling what was essentially an instruction booklet, listing various ails, their signs, complications, and possible treatments. It was tedious work, but he gave him something to think on, and he wrote steadily until it became too dark to see.

He spent the night sitting against a pole of the tent, a blanket around his shoulders, listening to the noises of his ringmates and the rustle of small creatures. Mostly it was quiet, except for the occasional murmur of voices every time the watch changed. They weren’t far enough from the border to justify sleeping without a guard. Well, Sial wasn’t sleeping. There wasn’t room enough to lay down, and he wanted to keep an eye on his patient anyway. She fell into a true sleep during the darkest hours of the night, and didn’t stir until dawn, when the sounds of his rising companions filtered through the thin fabric walls.

“Easy,” he cautioned in Shiftertongue as she started awake. He shifted to kneel beside her, one hand holding a cup of water for her, the other steadying her shoulder. “You’ve had a rough night. I am Dr. van Daalen, I’m a medic. Can you tell me your name?”

And because he knew it was disconcerting to not wake up in the clothes you went to sleep wearing, he added, “Your blouse and shoes are there beside you. Your jeans are drying outside, they needed washing.” He’d left her in her black shirt, since it was clean, and one of the female hunters had donated a spare pair of cutoff sweatpants. Certainly better than nothing, as even with the blankets draped over her, the nights were getting cooler.

[AKANE]

Her entire body felt too heavy to move, but stubbornly Akane rose to sit up. Exhausting a breath her hand went to her forehead as she screwed her eyes shut against the light. Unfamiliar voices lulled in the background followed by a familiar voice that shouldn’t have been. “How long have I been out?” she croaked, and finally lowered her hands to blink eyes that fluttered rapidly to clear and focus on the man. He was dark, his skin a rich chocolate color with deep ebon eyes. She vaguely remembered him, and while he talked half of his comments slid past her ears as she looked around. When he asked her name she replied. “Akane,” she said shortly. She took the glass of water with a grateful smile and downed it. With a great puff of air she winced from the motion, the pain in her pelvis sharp when she moved the wrong way. Her shoulders dropped and her slim hand hovered over her stomach. Without touching it her hand fell to her side. “It’s gone. Isn’t it,” she said quietly. He. It was a boy. He’s gone isn’t HE, berated a part of herself – but she couldn’t have said it to save her life. It would have held a different meaning, even if she hadn’t meant it to. It would have been accepting something else … that was too hard. Already the foggy memories of blood and pain were flooding her head and she looked up at the man. Her lips twitched but her chin rose. Yes, was all that he said. All he needed to say. A shuttering breath left her and she trembled, unsure what to think. A stray tear was wiped away quickly as she closed the awkward silence with the semblance of a small smile. “What’s your name?” Oh, he had already told her. “Van Daalen, you said?“ With his nod she nodded back and looked down to her lap – then quickly back up. “Wher .. where am I?” Her eyes were losing their focus, and the floor was beginning to slide away. Willfully she squeezed her eyes shut again to clear them and took a breath before looking again at the Doctor.

[CARNASSIAL]

He settled back on his haunches, waiting quietly while she scoped out her surroundings. Not that there was much to see - the tiny tent was quite barren, except for the bedroll and his medic kit tucked into the corner. Last night he’d hounded a tenderfoot into carting off the heaps of bloody bandages, and he’d already cleaned up his supplies. Not only would it be unsanitary to leave that stuff lying around, but it would also be a markedly unpleasant sight to wake up to.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness since yesterday afternoon. We found you in the desert, suffering from heatstroke.” And miscarrying, but he didn’t bring it up, as she clearly understood what had happened. He offered quiet confirmation, but otherwise didn’t comment. There was nothing he could say by way of comfort, and it certainly wasn’t his place to judge. She was a child, for heaven’s sake, and the children in the dome were frequently thrust headfirst into the harsh reality of things.

“We are camped in the foothills north of the mountains - the desert to our west, the cliffs to our east. We’re finishing up a hunting trip. We’ll stay camped here for today, while the hunters go out, and probably head home when they return.” As he spoke, he began tidying up the tent, folding up the spare blankets. “Feel up to some breakfast?” Without waiting for a reply - she was going to attempt to eat something while there was hot food available, whether she wanted to or not - he unzipped the tent, letting in a wash of morning sunshine and crisp fall air. Carnassial leaned over to stick his head outside, glanced around until he found who he was looking for, and summoned, "Wilson! Breakfast for two, please.”

The man made a face, but filled two bowls from the pot over the fire, stuck a spoon in each, and brought them over. “I’m not your errand boy, Carn,” he huffed, shoving the bowls into his hands.

“You are if you want me to keep patching you up,” Carnassial retorted, ducking back into the tent. He plunked a bowl down in Akane’s lap and then used his spoon to poke somewhat warily at the contents of his own bowl. It looked good, though, porridge dotted with dried fruit and some wild blueberries they’d found yesterday. Satisfied, he took a bite, then gestured at the girl with his spoon. “It might not feel like it, but you’ll feel better if you eat. Plus, any time Wilson’s cooking in edible is a time to cherish.”

He polished off his own meal with deft efficiency, then set the bowl aside as he finished tidying the tent. “I have patients to check on, before they head out for the day. You are welcome to stay here, or we can set you up outside.” They were camped in a clearing, the tents arranged in a circle around the fire pit - the trees blocked the worst of the wind, but it was sunny, and he would be able to keep an eye on her. Not that she would be going anywhere fast today, with how sore she probably was.

[AKANE]

There was a skip of time for Akane, and she felt for a moment that she was not mentally where she was physically. Her knees curled up as she felt walls closing in and her eyed watered as fear clutched her throat. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. Why couldn’t she breathe? When the Doctor called out it startled her and she jumped. Wrapping her arms around her knees her fingernails dug into the tender flesh of her thighs. It was hard to be present, but the physical pain was an anchor for her. It helped her push the things she wanted to leave behind away and focus on the now. The now was her salvation. Her knees went down in relief when he turned around and gave her a bowl. Normally, this gruel would have looked appetizing and she would have eaten it happily. However, just now it could have been a steak from a five star restaurant and she still wouldn’t have wanted to eat it. With his gentle verbal push, she picked up the spoon and went through the motions of eating. Bite. Chew. Swallow. She repeated the process slowly and mechanically until it was all gone. Her light eyes stared at the tent wall the entire time, continuing with the struggle to leave things in the past – where they belonged. With the man’s offer to move her outside her head shook instantly. She was tired, and wanted to nap if she could. However, she did not want to be alone. The fact that any company would be that of Carna was not lost on her, not to mention that being in the company of others usually inspired talk – and though she wanted reassurance she certainly didn’t want to be a problem either. “No, thank you. I think I’ll be okay here. Th-“ her voice trailed off mid-sentence as something in her mind’s eye caught her attention but it was only a second. She smiled apologetically. “Thank you. For everything,” she finished. When he opened the tent flap to allow his departure she craned her neck. “Maybe tomorrow?” she asked, and with a curt nod he let the flap fall. That entire night Akane dreamed. Almost every few hours she awoke in either tears or on the verge of screams. She did her best not to wake Dr. Van Daleen but it was he who woke her in the early hours from a nightmare before she finally rolled back on her side and went into a dreamless doze. When she woke, it was with another bowl of gruel and water. After being helped up she was shown where the ‘restroom’ was, and after relieving herself settled under a sparse tree where Van Daleen had said she would be safe. Movement was hard, and she felt weak … very weak. He’d said she’d lost a lot of blood and that it would take her a few days to get her strength back. Easing herself to the sand at the base of the tree, she smiled a bit when she saw the Carna Medic walking her direction. She had done her best to stay out of sight of the other Carna, and she had to admit their presence made her nervous. It was obvious they were thoroughly unhappy she was there. Still, the Doctor was polite if not kind and he was her familiar face in the recent chaos and in fact, her rescuer. “Hey Doc. I’m sorry about last night,” she said a bit sheepishly. She’d almost managed the time between the tent and the bathroom without a panic attack, but not quite. She could only take things moment to moment for the time being and welcomed any distractions. “How are your patients?” she asked politely and utterly lacking originality. It was either that or ask how long she'd stay alive now that she was upright and breathing. She chose the former.