CAP Out of action (Anatra, Marree?)

[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM

How something as small as a finger could put me through as much hell as this I did never anticipate. It's not the pain that's bothering me because I've got a good supply of morphling running into my vein but the emotional stress of the doctors discussions.
Now they are trying to get me to make a decision whether my fingers should be reattached or not while I'm barely able to talk due to the effects of the pain killers.

"What?" Through half closed lids I look at the men in blue scrubs.

"What do you work? Do you really need those fingers? Amputations this close to the base of the finger are hard to recover from. We seldom get good sensation or motion range. If you don't absolutely need them I'd advice to not attempt a reattachment."

Some of his words strike a nerve. 'amputation' 'sensation' 'work'.
Licking my lips I try to form the words I need to get out in order to get though this the way I want.
I push myself up from the cold surface under my back just to find myself surrounded by doctors in a small room. Small pads and wires are attached to my chest while machines around me confuse the hell out of me. The arrows are still stuck in my bare arm and leg and have bled through he gauze around them.

Yet I try to focus on the task at hand. "I need...my fingers. I'm an engineer. I...work with.." I neglect to mention that I'm only an apprentice who does all the easy work and a career, who'd like to keep fighting.
'Holy shit is it ever hard to speak' I think as I sink back onto the cold surface.

After a few more discussions they finally obey my wish and put me through a multiple hour surgery to free my leg and arm of the arrows and make sure I wake up with five fingers instead of three.

The time afterwards isn't very pleasant because I'm a bad patient, who wants nothing more than to get out. On top of that I don't know whether my opponent actually lived to see another day. I'm ready to jump out of the hospital bed, no matter how down and low I feel, just to see the guy. Every tiny move, however, is so aggrovating that I can't do anything but keep still...at least for one day.

My father comes to see me but I barely talk to him. However he informs me that he thinks Tyren actually pulled through. This gives me a little hope at least. I refuse to talk about anything else with my father though.
That same day I still pull the IV out of my arm and try to get out of bed. Except all the bandages wrapped around me and my hand in a splint to make sure my precious fingers stay where they are, I almost naked though.
So I grab the bed sheet to wrap it around myself.
I need to see this guy. Needless to say I don't get far.

After a 'good nights' sleep I try again. This time clad in a hospital gown. And I'm more successful as I manage to make it all the way to his room, which isn't very far away. When I finally reach it my heart is beating in my neck and all my braveness from the arena goes down the drain. I can't possibly walz in and casually say. "Hey, how is it going. by the way...I'm sorry I nearly killed you."
So I lean my back against the wall and look down at my shaking hand that somehow can't open that door.

[Anatra]

The droning of the machines makes the room peaceful. I can't describe the feeling, but it can be mistaken for relaxation. The smell of the hospital is clean and sterile, whilst the morphling sends you into an illusive mixture of reality and imagination. There is no chance that I will be off the painkilling drug any time soon. Some part inside me doesn't want to sleep, yet the drug is constantly putting my eyes to a close. My brother Alex stayed with me last night, and now this one too. Up until my parents came. Then they left together knowing that I may want some peace and quiet. My parents visiting wasn't very pleasant. They weren't sure how to deal with the situation, and each of them had work to do, so it was quite rushed. My cousin Alba, however, stayed until I fell asleep. Or at least I pretended to. After she left, the doctors came in to update the notes and check everything was working - the machines, not myself. As my closed eyes seen nothing, my ears listened.

"We're gonna need to apply some more blood in the morning. Did you get another batch?"

"Yeah, though there will likely not be much more after this one."

"Why's that?"

"Because his brother can't healthily give any more."

There is a silence that I hate. I didn't think my condition was that bad, and I can hear my heart rate increasing on the monitor. I felt them reapplying something on my wrist. I know that in the morning, they'll have to change the bandage and once again I'll have to lay on one side for a good few hours. It's hard work, and it is the reason I'll be here longer than if it were a chest cut.

Part of me is glad that it wasn't me that won the fight. If I had, I'd be putting myself through this, and more. I know for definite that Matthew didn't come out of it as bad as me, because from what my brother tells me, he actually left the arena himself. I feel guilt, as all my wounds seem to linger in a distilled pain. Guilt for my final outburst. I shouldn't have done it, and I should have just left the fight where it was. I should have taken his offer of surrender. I should have listened, but the heat of the moment was far too hot for me to think like that. I was focused, and so was he. That's why it ended like this.

I think to myself, in the hours I have alone, of what we would say to each other if we seen one and other again. Would there be bad blood? I'm not even sure. Half of my wants to believe we could even talk. The other half doubts he would want to. I should feel hatred for him, but in this state I can't make up my mind. I want to lean my head to the left or right, but I can't as the bandages and stitches would displace and hurt, even with the painkiller. I look up at the roof of the room, the lights reminding me specifically of the ones in the arena themselves.

I find myself dreaming, but it is far too realistic.

"Tyren Orca, you are victorious!" I hear it now, right in my ears. Is this the reality? Can it even be? I can't see anything around me because I'm blinded by redness, or darkness. I'm standing on a limp Matthew, holding up my bow and some golden trophy I must have collected. Whilst dreaming, I can still hear the heart rate monitor. Right now, it is rocketing.

My eyes open quickly but I can't gasp as much as I want to for breath. I look directly forward at the clock upon the wall - only a minute has passed.

I can't sleep with this pain.

[Jack Lexington]

Day two in the hospital comes around. By now I'm ready to release myself even though I can hardly stand on my own two feet for more than three minutes at a time. The fight or maybe surgery on various parts of my body has gotten to me more than I'd like to admit. The nurse assures me that it's all normal but I'm getting weary and antsy at the same time. I want to leave this place. I want to talk to Tyren. I want to sleep in my own bed. I want to see my friends. I want to go back to training because I will face my next opponent in two weeks.
Of course I know that he'll ahve a big advantage over me because of the state I'm in. I need to heal, now!

These kind of thoughts are driving me out of my room and down the hall. Bare feet padding against the cold floor, hobbling along the side of the hallway so I can support myself on the wall.

This time I don't think long and hard before I knock on Tyrens door and simply enter. But then I freeze.
Before me lays a guy I hardly recognise. The strong, well built career has shrunk to a bed ridden, pale reflection of himself. He looks so fragile and worn out with all those bandages wrapped around his neck. Is he asleep or awake?
Slowly I close the door behind me and limp a little closer to him.
"Tyren?" My voice cracks when I say his name.
"Are you awake?" I wonder.
Then I reach for the chair that has been placed next to him and lean on the backrest because my strength is fading fast.
Only two days ago I felt like conquering the world and now I'm high on painkillers and barely able to stand.
"I came to...." There it is, that word that I can never get across my lips. 'apologize'.
"I was wondering how you're doing."

[Anatra]

In among my stares to the clock, I hear the door open and suddenly my eyes have widened. He sits next to me and I don't know what to feel. Pain, anger, hatred? "I came to...." This sentence could end in anything. Finish you off. I want to grip my hands into fists and defend myself, but I can't find the strength. I know that the morphling will blur this into a cluster of feelings - but I expected to feel something. "I was wondering how you're doing." I was taken aback, though I couldn't physically show it. I could tell him the obvious and say I'm doing absolutely awful, but I have to admit to myself that we were both in that arena for the same reason, he just happened to be the stronger man.

"Alright... Considering." I raise a small smile that shows how weak my face is from the painkiller. I didn't expect him to be in hospital, though I guess I didn't have the time to think like that. I want to sit and ask him everything, who his friends are and who his family are. Where did he go to school, and what he works as. I want to know everything about the person that did this to me. But then, I remind myself that I could easily have done this to him, it was that close a fight.

A week and a while ago I was recovering from an unarmed fight, now - I'm at the brink of not being able to recover at all. Though, I know that only half of that is really true. "Doctors say I'm recovering." The calmness is helping me forget that we even fought against each other. I want to tell him that I understand, but then again - I still can't decide.

"You all set for your 'next big fight'?" My speech is slow and a little slurred, as though I'm very tired. I am, but it is showing more than I can control at the moment.

(( I will be offline for most of today as I've gotta go see family. ))

[Jack Lexington]

My eyes roam the length of his body to scan for the injuries he sustained. I'm pretty sure that I hit him in the neck, on both sides, and his forearm with my spear. I also slashed it across his back, which might be the reason he now has to lay on his side. poor guy. He looks so pale and fragile now. Like he's barely hanging on. To see him like this makes me second guess my participation in the pregames. For the longest time this was my goal. I wanted nothing more than to win these games and then go on to the real thing. This feels pretty darn real to me though. What for? For a trophy? The price money? Fame?
Not at the cost of crippling somebody else and risking my own health. Yet that's what we do and all know could happen.

When I ask about Tyrens state he looks truly surprised and even manages a faint smile. I guess he didn't expect it from his opponent.
"Alright." He tells me, which can't be true. He doesn't look alright.
The doctors are telling him he's recovering which I like to hear. "I was worried I had....gone too far." My eyes are glued to my bare feet now. This is hard to admit.
"I'm glad to hear your pulling through." Finally I look up and see that astonishment again.
"We're only enemies inside the arena as far as I'm considered." I let him know how I feel. He did what he had to do, so did I.
"You were a very tough opponent." I admit. "Never had a harder fight."
My eyes don't meet his because I still haven't said sorry and probably won't. I hope he still gets it though.

"You all set for your 'next big fight'?" He asks through half closed lids in a slurred fashion, which makes me think whatever is in his drip is doing the trick. His dose must be much higher than mine.
The next fight...right...I didn't even think about that. I doubt I'll be fighting anybody considering that I can't use my left hand or walk properly.
I know what happened to the girls when they tried. Yet I'm not ready to give up what I just earned.
With a look at my fingers that are well protected by a neat white splint I give him a sour sweet smile and shake my head. "Not really, man."
Then I shrug. "We'll see. I have two or three weeks."
A few moments pass in silence that is only filled by the beeping of his heart rate monitor.
I can't possibly stand any longer because leg is killing me and my knees are starting to shake. So i sit in the chair. "May I?"
Again I look at him.
"You knew what you were in for right?" I run my good hand over my face because this is the worst attempt of an apology ever.
"You got people looking out for you?" A soft smile appears on my features to let him know I care.

[Anatra]

My eyes are dry. All of my water is being used for healing. I can feel the weight of my breath weigh into me and out of the closing cuts of my back. "May I?" My face says yes. The stillness in the room reminds me of some kind of purgatory - the gap between heaven and hell. The waiting room, some call it. "You knew what you were in for right?" I linger on the question for a moment, even though the answer was yes. "You got people looking out for you?" My eyes lets themselves fall on the book that Alba was reading. It is on a small side table next to the chair Matt is sitting on. "Mmm. Whole family's behind me." I can feel the pain in my voice, though I wish it didn't show so clearly. "I knew I'd have some scars to show the folks back home." I seem dazed. I can feel a throb in my head that beats in sync with the heart monitor. I reach for something. A bottle of water, next to the book. I'm not supposed to move much at all, but of course I resist - being me. I take a drink, though the numbness causes the water to go both in my mouth and on my chest.

"..."

"I need a straw ..." I mutter with a laughter that is rudely interrupted by a shot of pain. I calm myself into a normal state again. "My brother and I are beginning to rethink the whole attitude we have." I shake my head as much as the neck bandages allow. Not much. "We can see that being a winner is costly."

"I do like the peace and quiet though... Very soothing." I look at him, with his head pointing down. I pity him because he can't see that I have already forgiven him. "It's alright, really. I would have done the same." In my slurring and lack of forethought, I realize that I have just flipped the scales. Telling him that I would have hospitalized him, more badly than currently, is probably not the best idea. But in my state, I can barely maintain correctness in all I say.

"Sorry ..." I let out a weak attempt at laughing. "You have family though, right?"

"Lucky girl?"

[Jack Lexington]

Oh goodness, I can't possibly watch this guy. Every move he makes looks so painful and almost impossible. He can't turn his head, he can't breath in properly and when he drinks he spills half of the water on his shirt.
I push myself up to reach for a tissue and hand it to him before I look for a straw. There's one sitting on a tray so I hand it over. "There you go."
at least his family supports him. My old man hasn't shown up yet because he's working long hours today.
"I knew I'd have some scars to show the folks back home." I hear his cracking broken voice, which makes me want to hide away because I was the one who turned him into this pathetic heap. What I gather from his words is that he didn't expect to wind up in a hospital bed fighting for his life. He expected to have some scars but how do you measure hits and win at the same time? I really want to tell him I'm sorry but what would that make me? A hypocrate?
"My brother and I are beginning to rethink the whole attitude we have." He states and I can only confirm with a nod. "I hear you. It's all burps and giggles until you start loosing limbs or your health. It's not worth it. But how else do you prepare yourself for the real thing? Nothing is ever going to get you as close to the real arena. Nobody else is better prepared." There's the career shining through all the daze and bandages. It's so deeply ingraved in me that it even comes out now that I sit at his bedside.

He gives me a look that I can't quite interpret before he says out of the blue. "It's alright, really. I would have done the same."
Without an apology from me he forgives me. I'm stunned. He really is the better man. Here I am, the winner, but unable to get over myself, and he, the looser, has the greatness to forgive me.
I look down at my hands again feeling very ashamed of myself and at the same time very moved that he just said those words that mean so much. I can feel my throat tighten and my face become warm. This really moves me but I'm unable to speak while my lips starts quivering.
After a minute I take a deep breath and sigh. "Thank you."
Finally I look up at Tyren with slightly wet eyes. "I'm so sorry I did that to you."
You don't think of the consequences while you fight...at least I don't.

"Sorry ..." He states quietly but I don't understand what for. Maybe my injuries.
"I'll be fine." I tell him. At least I hope so. The doctors said the arrows didn't damage anything but muscle and a few smaller blood vessels. The fingers...might not be of much use anymore." Again my chest tightens. It's only fingers, yet I'm not ready to loose use of them. It's a high price for one match.

"You have family though, right?" I nod at him in confirmation even if it's only my dad.

"Lucky girl?" That is a good question. Kyanite and I are a weird couple if we're one at all. Is she my girl? Are we even still together? I was pretty rough to her with words when I was mad about her fight with Gala. I'm also terrible boyfriend material since I won't show any affection in public. Why she wanted me before our fight is a mystery.
"Maybe." I shrug because Ky hasn't show up yet. I was hoping she'd be there when I wake up but wasn't that lucky.
"You?" I guess this talk is getting pretty personal but what else can we talk about.
I craddle my splinted arm in my good one because everytime I let it hang down the blood pulsating through it feels like my hand is going to explode.
"So you're going to quit the program?" I wonder. I really don't want him to. "You shouldn't. You're a great archer." I don't want to be the reason he drops everything. That would be aweful.

A nurse enters the room and gives me a look. "Would you please wait outside? I have to check..." She pauses and frowns. "Aren't you the other career?"
The other career...has she watched the fight? or just seen us come in together? I wait a moment before answering her.
"I am, why?"
"You shouldn't be here at all." Her expression becomes very hard. obviously the woman has her own opinion about me.
I want to give her my own opinion back but bite my lip and slowly get up. It's not that easy since most of my left side is useless and sore and my right leg stings like hell.

[Anatra]

"So you're going to quit the program?" I know my answer before I say it, but I rest on the thought for a brief moment as he continues; "You shouldn't. You're a great archer." I smile somewhat. "Thanks. I won't quit training, but you probably won't see me in the pregames again. It was some-" I am interrupted by the nurse, performing her mandatory checks of the machines and such but her eyes are caught by the one next to me. I see a duty in her eyes that I don't like the look of, because I don't see a problem here. She does, clearly. "You shouldn't be here at all." I frown, as I look downward at her from my laid position. "Nah, it's..." I feel a sudden weakness in my voice, which brings a cough. It hurts to even do that, but the pain is becoming all too familiar now anyway. "It's fine."

The opened door brings in a whole new draft of the 'hospital smell'. I like the smell, it is soothing, and makes me at least believe I am going to get better. I wait to see whether Matthew wants to stay, and whether the nurse will listen to me or not.

[Jack Lexington]

"Hurry up. You don't have access here." She makes it clear that I'm not welcome and isn't willing to give me enough time to make it to the door in my own time.
She completely ignores Tyrens approval of my being here but I hear it. It truly seems like he's forgiving me for injuring him this badly.
When he coughs I cast a glance at him over my shoulder while holding on to the door handle for support.
The nurse doesn't seem worried but gives me a piec of her mind without being asked for it.
"You careers are all crazy? Isn't it enough that innocent children get sent to the arena each year? Why do you have to go out there on your own free will and beat each other to pulp? And then you want us to patch you up..." She's fuming so I get the impression it's better to move out of her way. Yet I reply. "I never asked for anything from you."
Now the wrath of the nurse is fully on me.
"You little shit, you almost killed him. He's lucky if he'll...." She cuts herself of because she finally realized her highly unprofessional behavior and turns to check on the guy in the bed. "I'm sorry. I just don't understand you."

I've had enough of this show so O nod at Tyren. "I'll come back another time." Then I manage a faint smile to let him know I care and won't be kept away by the dragon.
A moment later I'm gone.

[*]

That day when Matthew and Tyren actually done battle, I sat in the stands completely terrified. My fight was intense, but fast as Mark was skilled and seemed to quickly lay into me three very deep gashes across my skin in three different spots. All of which sent me to the hospital unconscious for several hours only to awaken with Gala sitting at my bedside for the entire night. Though, their fight is a lot more brutal. It seems alot more intense then mine was because these two are matched so well with strength and skills that, until the very end, I didn't know who would win, but deep in my heart, I still cared for Matthew. I was rooting for him and with the very last hit from his spear, he had won but made me terrified. I rode to the hospital with him but after that, I wasn't allowed back with him anymore. I sat in that waiting room for hours when they did the surgery, but visiting hours had been over by the time he was in recovery, so I was sent home for rest and didn't object due to my own day old injuries. That night, I dreamed of him and I sitting together in the stands of the arena but that's all I remember, except something being said about the word 'forever' lingered in my head. It made me confused but just the thought of both of us sitting together sent hope through my heart.

Today though, I got up early and dressed. It has been hard to deal with my injuries, but my dad has finally given me some credit back for my actions in the pregames already. He stated, "If someone who can come back from a loss to strike down their own friend just to make me happy, deserves to sleep on a cloud." If only he knew what emotion turmoil that put me through to do that to Gala. Whatever is going through my father's mind, it just makes me happy that I no longer have to worry about pleasing him as much. He even apologized for not being there for me in the second round. He heard how hard I tried after earning my rightful spot in the second round, and he deemed me worthy of training again once I got all healed up.

For now, training is a part of the past until the stitches allow my body to heal up. I can't remember how many they told me I had. I just know that the gash on my arm leads from above my wrist down to my elbow on the side. I can't stand looking in a mirror at my face due to the fact that what lies behind the guaze is going to be hard to come to terms with. Before hand, my ritual was to look in the mirror to challenge myself before I did any kind of morning training. To look over my face and hair; to make sure everything is perfect before I head out to make an impression, but since that day when Mark cut my face, I've strayed from my own reflection. It wasn't a vanity issue. It was something my mother instilled in me when I was young. Beauty is only skin deep, but it's what you do that makes you who you are. While, I used to use my looks to help with my training, now, I have to find another approach.


My travels to the hospital is hardly uneventful. Many eyes had graced my presense as I get the sense they are staring at me. Something that Gala had said put me into this new mood. I was the only female to make it to the second round. At least, that made my father happy. As the hospital came into view, I walk in slowly through the double doors and head to the counter. The nurse at the station looks over my form, remembering me from the other day and gives me a pleasant smile.

"How are you doing, Kyanite?" Her gentle voice asks from behind the station when I notice she stares right at my face. I don't let it bother me. The covering keeps hidden what I dare not look at or let anyone else see. I merely nod to her with a pleasant half smile.

"I'm doing fine. Just here to, Umm... Matthew. I was just going to visit him and see how he's doing." I tell her and I take my leave from the station and walk slowly toward Matthew's room. I'm still in a lot of pain as I walk. My abdomen throbs with every step and movement I take, but I feel as if I need to be here. I need to see Matthew; to talk to him. It was a really emotional ride to the hospital with him just yesterday and today, I'm hoping I won't be turned away due to his not wanting me there. The closer I get to his room, my eyes wander around to the hallway and the few nurses I pass, they give me a confused look as if I am suppose to be a patient as bandaged up as I am. I drop my head as I continue on route to the room he was in yesterday while he was in surgery that he never returned to until after I had to leave.

With shaky fingers, I bring my right hand up to touch the door and using my cast, I knock on the door because it'll hurt less that way. I wait for only a moment before opening the door slightly and peeking inside at the room. Almost instantly, my eyes happen upon the empty bed and the crumpled up sheets. My hand reaches my lips in a worried fashion before I turn around to leave and about that time, I see him standing just a few feet from the door and my hand drops from my face.

"Matthew... Hi." The first words that I could come up with in such a quick moment of shock. I let my eyes roam over his body, staring at his wrapped hand for the longest time. Before I know it, I take the few steps over to him, letting my casted arm gently touch his damage free arm. My fingers running over the skin as I keep my gaze within his eyes. "I was worried about you."

[Jack Lexington]

The verbal spanking I got from the nurse doesn't sit too well with me. Anger is starting to rise in my chest as well as my bad conscience. I've already felt bad enough when I had to worry whether Tyren would pull through. Now looking at his fragile, hurt state was enough to make me second guess everything I've trained for for such a long time. I really don't need an upset nurse to give me her two cents.

My gaze darkens with every slow step while I use the wall for support to make my way back to my room. Ever time I out weight on the leg that had been stabbed by the arrow I have to grit my teeth. Of course the nasty nurse won't help me.
It's only been a day so I'm still shaky on my legs and in more pain than to be hoppinga round in the hallway.

As soon as I see who's standing in front of my room my grimace is gone. Kyanite. She's there.
Instantly I feel terribly embarassed about falling apart like I did in the ambulance. I definetly need to appear self confident and strong now rather than doubting my actions and worried about everybody's health and future.

With a smile on my pale face I close the distance between us as fast as I can when she turns to me. I almost loose the smile when I see the size of the bandage on her face. Was it this big yesterday? Is this how big her scar will be? 'Keep smiling' I tell myself because the last thing I want is to make her feel ugly when I barely got a black eye from all those fights.
"Hi."
I can see her giving me the once over and explain. "I was worried about you."
"Why? I'm made of steel." I ask innocently as if everything was in best order. What I'm really wondering though is where we're at. Two days ago she pushed me away when I was trying to help her, yesterday she even rode in the ambulance with me.
Whatever it is she'll have to tell me inside my room because I panting like a race horse and feel like falling over any second, which would be even more embarassing.

I hobble into the room, where one other guy is sleeping in his bed near door.
Soon I lower myself onto mine, that is illuminated by the sun falling in through the big window. With my good hand I pull my right leg up on the bed to raise it on a cushion.
Then I wait for her to sit down and watch the motions on her bandaged face. She seems to be in a lot of pain, yet she's here.
"Looks like you should be in one of those beds." I mutter in an unusual, dreary low voice. I can only imagine how she feels when she looks into the mirror.
"You okay?" I knit my brow as I rest my head against the cushion behind it and place my splinted hand next to me on the bed where she can't see it.
In her presence I have the feeling like I should be strong and not admit any problems, not the metal, nor the physical kind. She wouldn't like a whiner and I want her to like me.

[*]

"Why? I'm made of steel." He replies to me, but I drop my head to him with a sort of false attitude I hear within him. His stance tells me differently as well the way he seems to be favoring one of his legs more than the other and it's then that I remember the arrow that was sticking out of his leg and his arm. I remember how frightened I was to see all of that. Is that how he felt when he saw me when I came from my battle? Yet, he didn't push me away. Oh, why did we have to fight, MAtthew? Why did I have to be matched up to Gala. It was suppose to be different. Gala stayed with me that night in the hospital. It could have been you, if only I had done something different. I wouldn't have been feeling so down about not seeing you. I'm here for you though.... as long as you'll have me.

Rushes of emotions are fueling me the moment I see him as he begins panting hard as if he had just done a thirty minute training session without a break, but I know how hard it is to walk around after waking up from the aftereffects of a fight. It's almost like a hangover but without the drinking and there's a lot more pain involved. I follow behind him. Watching how he painstakingly walks to the bed. It's his turn now to play patient just as I had the other day. I probably still would have been in yesterday, but I refused to stay in the bed when I knew that his match would be something like mine. When there was a serious chance of injury or worse. I don't think I could deal with it if something had happened to him when the last time we were together, we were at each others throats in a verbal lashing.

I stare at the window of the room, noting the light coming in. When I had finally woke up, it was almost one in the morning before the effects of the bloodloss had worn off. Luckily, I didn't have to be awake for when they stitched up my body. It was just that much more of a convience that I had taken such deep hits that put me under in a matter of minutes after leaving the arena. He takes to babying his leg though as he cautiously puts it up on the pillows. His eyes start looking toward my face. Instinctively, I put a hand up to hide the gauze and turn my face away from him. I know it looks daunting. I've not even looked in the mirror since I've gotten out of the hospital. It's just too much to deal with at the moment. I'd rather just deal with what's going on right here and right now instead. Matthew and I sitting here with nothing going between us for what seems like ages. I can't bring myself to speak up first now, afraid of what he'd say or do. The memory of the past conversation replaying in my head until he starts.

"You okay?" What can I say? No? He can see I'm not. I can see that he isn't either. He's been in here almost a day longer than I have. Both him and Gala have had longer stays then me, but I'm too stubborn to stay in the hospital. I shrug though.

"I've been better. You know that and besides, they let me out on good behavior. My hospital stay is over with." I tease making my voice seem somewhat upbeat about it all. I lean back in the chair easily because the stitches pull on my abdomen. That's the worst trouble I'm having is being able to slouch. I can only imagine Matthew's reaction to seeing me sit so proper right now.

I can't help but look at him and try to figure out what it is about him that has made me come back today other than the fact that he tried to be there for me before I pushed him away. That's the issue I needed to address right here and now before another word is said. So, I let my lower lip drop for a moment before stuttering.

"I.. I'm sorry about the other day. I know you were only trying to help. I just.... didn't want it. I was thinking you were still mad at me. I was scared about Gala. I didn't even know you would have been there. I figured you were going to banter me more about what happened. I should have let you." I tell him honestly and grimace. I get up from the chair and stretch out a little and lean toward his bed instead. At this angle, I look over and I can see the brace on his arm and I shake my head.

"How are you doing? All squared away with the arrows and stuff? You're hand?" I ask remembering the horrible sight of the blood. The horror when I saw what it had looked like when I got a glance at them before they started wrapping his hand up.

[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM

There's a weird tension between the two of us and it's lingering on. No wonder after what had happened. For a second I wish she'd leave again and let me sleep but I remember how much I wanted to see her because I feel so drawn to her. No other girl ever made me feel this way. And even though I can't seem to get the 'relationship' thing figured out I want her.
So I sit tight and wait until she's ready to talk.

A blind man could see how much she's struggling not only with her wounds but her emotions as well. I wince a little while I watch her because I don't want to see her like this. The cuts that Mark inflicted must hurt like a bitch. Silently I make a promise to myself to pay him back for it, should I be able to do that last fight.

In regards to my question she says. "I've been better. You know that and besides, they let me out on good behavior. My hospital stay is over with."
At least she's being honest. "You're one heck of a stubborn girl." I comment purposely avoiding the use of the word chick that used to be my word of choice for females.

I hope she doesn't expect me to up and leave with her today.

What seems more difficult for her is what comes next...an apology that's really hard to follow. I don't get her motive for pushing me away? Was it that she thought I was still angry? Or was she upset? Typical girl.
My eyes keep flickering back and forth while I try to figure her speech out.
What I do get is that she's apologizing which is good enough for me.
My face is stern when I reach my good hand out to caress her hair. "It's okay. You here now. You were there yesterday..." This is where I become uncomfortable again and aimlessly fiddle around with her locks before mumbling something about. "Sorry you ahd to see that...me falling apart. I don't usually do that after I win a fight."
I attempt a joke but deep down feel like crying all over again because I almost killed Tyren.
For a moment I'm taken back to the arena and the blood gushing out from his neck that couldn't be stopped with my bare hands. It was pooling under his head soaking his hair and even today I could still see the crusts around his ears where there weren't any bandages.

"How are you doing? All squared away with the arrows and stuff? You're hand?"
My eyes find hers when she speaks to me again and brings me back to our moment.
"Huh?"
I see her lean on the bed and look at my hand. I raise my brows to serve her some sort of upbeat comment but hold on for a moment to actually look her in the eyes.
"The arrows didn't do much damage, they just hurt. The hand not so much."
I swallow hard against the lump of truth forming in my throat. If the odds aren't in my favor I'm screwed work and free time wise.
"Doctors didn't even want to put my fingers back on." The bandages look so clean and proper right now but I dread to find out what it looks like underneath. Maybe they have turned white already.
"There's a chance that they'll be usable again." I give her a fake smile and press my lips together before admitting. "It sucks."

To quickly get of the topic that hits a little too close to home for me right now I sigh. "I'm really glad you came, Ky." Once again I find myself staring at the bandage on her face wondering whether she'll keep a big scar from Mark there. But I can't ask her that. It would only hurt her. Plus it's not like I wouldn't like her anymore.
"Listen. Why don't we just forget about what happened and go from here. You can't make things undone and Gala seems to have forgiven you. I have a tendency of blowing my head easily." Good enough for an apology from my side.
"I want to be with you..." I reach for her casted and and caress the fingers that are sticking out. "We're a pretty good match."

[*]

"Stubborn?" I smile lightly, dropping my head and shaking it just a little before looking back up to him. "Motivated to more precise. I didn't want to stay. I couldn't... I wanted to be there for your match like you was for mine." I can't help but tell him like it was. That I wasn't about to just go home without being there for him. Now? I'm glad I was since I saw how bad he was yesterday when he battle finished. How bad off both of them were. Once again, he won. That makes him a winner twice in the pregames. That also makes twice he's seen me lose in the pregames. He was right though. Getting used to losing was something that I had to get used to. This time was much easier on me. I didn't seem to care this time. I sigh, when I finish apologizing to him. I keet watching his eye movements as I speak. The only question I want to know is if he'll accept it or reject me. I wouldn't blame him though. I must be exhibiting everything he hates about females. For the longest time in my mind when I stop speaking, I let my gaze fall around the blankets of his bed that lay over his form before he brings his hand up and starts to touch my hair.

Just that simple touch from him is what I crave and it sends these cold chills around my chest. It's what I need and he's going to allow me to stay with him now. "It's okay. You here now. You were there yestrday... Yesterday. One of the most horrible moments of my life to see him like that. Absolutely hysterical and bloodied up. Raving about his opponents health. The grip he had on my arm that made me believe that fear that he actually had almost killed the guy. That's something that I'll never be able to get out of my mind, nor the grip. Unconsciously, I let my exposed fingers of my left run over the gauze wrapped arm where his fingers had been and for a moment I close my eyes. The images still very real within my mind before he suddenly brings me out of it. "Sorry you had to see that... me falling apart. I don't usually do that after I win a fight."

"I wouldn't expect you to, but as harsh as that fight was, I can't imagine you'd act anything less. A fist fight, yeah. Like after round one, I can see you being happy, but when it is something serious like that... I guess we never really expected something like that. The games were a bit more than I was expecting. You were expecting?" With the last word, I study Matthew's expression and I see his far away gaze and I could tell he didn't really hear me. So, I ask about him and it seems to bring him out of the daze.

"The arrows would hurt. I agree. The knife hurts just as much, to be honest. I imagine for it to feel like that, maybe." I wonder because I've never been shot with an arrow. I've had a knife in my shoulder and that was painful enough. Though, he's had two knives to dig into his skin, so maybe they feel the same? Though, his comment on his hand makes me worried and when he reveals what he needs to about what the doctors said about not reattaching them, I feel the lump in my throat. "There's a chance that they'll be usuable again."

"With a bit of time, you'll be back to normal. Takes time to heal and I'll be there if you need me to." I turn my head toward him, giving him a comforting smile. I let my fingers touch the tips of his fingers in an attempt to just make sure he's really still there. That all of this isn't just some fantasy in my mind. He will be alright and he makes it known when he tells me he's glad I'm there. I give him a subtle nod. Once again, I see him eye my bandage and become selfconscious again about it. I turn my face away from him, so it doesn't show and I look to the monitors that are behind him and just the various medical things. The same things I had when I was in the same place. I want to shudder thinking how long I had been unconsious from the bloodloss. The dream that I had. All of it, even though it's over with, still weighs heavy on my mind.

Without notice, Matthew attempts to forgive me for what's happened between me and Gala. I don't know if he's doing this because Gala's already forgiven me or if he just wants to settle the situation but I give him a nodd of my head. "I never meant for any of that to happen. You were right though." I give him that much. I know what I have to work on and I plan on doing that the minute I'm able to get back to training.

"I want to be with you..." Hearing those words just out of the blue and to have him show me that feeling as well making me tighten my fingers around his. Each finger wanting to hold on to it's identical counterpart.

"I've missed you so much." I admit it freely. The last few days without him had been torture on my heart. Especially not being around Gala as well. I sit on the edge of the bed, to be nearer to him and ignoring the pull on my stomach, I lean over to him, letting my lips press against his. A soft, gentle touch that I've been craving for so long and with that touch, everything that happened yesterday seems to relieve me of those images. I lean up away from him. "For the winner..." I smile at him heartily.

"So far, we're two for two." I try to lighten the mood. "Two wins for you. Two losses for me. At least, this loss is more welcomed then the first one. I don't have to worry about breaking open the stitches. I get to be lazy for a while. I don't have to worry about going up against you." I give him a harsh stare. "If I had won my match, I would already step down because I could never go against you. It was hard enough to fight Gala. I know I wouldn't be able to hurt you. Games or no games. It just isn't possible." My right hand moves slowly to grab his good hand and I squeeze it gently as much as I can. "So, how long do you think that they will keep you here?"

[Jack Lexington]

She's right. I wasn't expecting the fight to be a cruel and harsh as it was. Even out of the ones I witnessed as a spectator none had ever been and fast and brutal. Tyren and I really saw eye to eye and didn't spare each other.

We go on to talk about discomfort of injuries and Kyanite compares the arrows, that had been stuck below my elbow and in my tight to a knife. It's easy to guess which knife she's referring to, which makes me wonder how long we're going to mention to each other how our relationship started with crazy target practise.
"Sort of like that." I confirm. My left arm has been a mess ever since that day because the knife injured some nerves, which lead to me not balling my fist properly and braking my own finger. On top of that now the arrow and missing fingers. On the upside it was only one limb that continuously got damaged, on the downside it's ready to be thrown into the trash now. My expression darkens at the thought of going into round three with one useless arm.
"With a bit of time, you'll be back to normal. Takes time to heal and I'll be there if you need me to." I see her smile but can't reply with one. Isn't she aware that round three is just around the corner. "Time is something I don't have. 10 days. Two weeks at the most." I shake my head because I'm starting to get desperate.

At least the two of us seem to be on better terms now. We both sort of apologize and she even admits that I was right. "I can't deny that I like hearing that." A faint smile plays on my lips when she intertwines our fingers.
It feels good to touch her again. This time she wants it, too. Not like after her fight when she pushed me away. In that moment I was ready to walk out on her because I don't do well with rejection. I guess it was good I stuck around for a little longer.
"I've missed you so much." Kyanite confesses and despite her own injuries stretches her body to lay on my stomach and place a gentle kiss on my lips. I want to freeze that moment in time. The feeling her soft gesture provokes is unbelievable. I thrills me and makes me aware how much I missed her so I reach my hand around her head to keep her close to intensify our kiss.
When she calls me a winner she fills me with so much pride, it's hard to put in words. A huge grin spreads from ear to ear when I admit. "I like the sound of that." What she doesn't know is that with those words she seals the deal for me. No matter what the doctors or my logic say I need to fight in the next round.
"So far, we're two for two. Two wins for you. Two losses for me. At least, this loss is more welcomed then the first one. I don't have to worry about breaking open the stitches. I get to be lazy for a while. I don't have to worry about going up against you." ...I know I wouldn't be able to hurt you. Games or no games. It just isn't possible."
"You've done it before, baby." I tease her a bit but I know exactly what she means.
"Despite what I said, I couldn't fight against you like I did against Tyren. heck, I almost killed the guy...I saw him today, he's pretty bad." My voice becomes low and barely audible. Maybe I do feel remorse after all. Two things make me uneasy. On one side I'm second guessing my participation in the pregames because of what I did to Tyren, on the other I want to beat the shit out of Mark for hurting Kyanite.
I squeeze her hand that still holds mine and add. "I promise to pay Mark back each and every little scratch he gave you. He'll suffer." It's a promise not only given to her but also myself.

"So, how long do you think that they will keep you here?" Kyanite asks but I can only shrug.
"They haven't told me yet." I'm sensing that she'd like to see me out of the hospital as soon as possible. "Why, you have plans for me?" I ask with a wink but then add more serious.
"They said they'll check my fingers today but it would take a while to safely determine the final outcome. Give me a day or two. I don't think I can walk out of here just yet."
For some reason I don't feel stupid about admitting that I'm not in great shape right now. It would be ridiculous after the show I gave her yesterday.
"I'm not as tough as you." I joke and once again pull her closer for a kiss.
With her here I feel much more at ease, calmer. I can almost forget about Tyren for a moment and lick my lips while I watch her closely.
"To be honest I'm glad you're not in the games anymore. You've been hurt enough."
My palm gently runs along the chin below her bandaged cheek. "I have no idea why we want to do these pregames so baldy anyway? I got a glimpse of how wrong they can go yesterday. It seems stupid to me." I never talk this openly to anybody, not even my father. He'd be annoyed to hear me talk like this and maybe the girl is as well. But I don't care.
"The only reason why I'm not quitting is because I want to get back at Mark....and maybe my ego. I mean I've come this far..." Again that old boyish smirk appears.


OOC: Sorry if that post swings back and forth so much.