Gunned | SatoSere

Chapter 28 - Still Alive

The headquarters is bustling as the doors open to the trio's return. Serena spares a nod to the nameless faces of countless operatives that bow at her passing.

"Could you report to the others for me?" Serena asks Gary and Miette. "I have to-"

"Yeah, I gotcha. Important places to be. You got it, boss," Gary says cheerily, reassuring Serena while he pats her shoulder before departing.

Miette lingers. "You should've let me shoot that old man," she says pointedly. "Asshole should know his place. Namely hell."

Serena sighs and shrugs, too tired to argue with Miette with her usual snipe. "I'd rather not get into any bullshit government trouble for now. We have enough to worry about, don't you think?"

"Have it your way. I have to watch over the next incoming gear shipment. Call me-"

"-if anything changes. I know,"Serena finishes for her. Miette rolls her eyes and then leaves, but Serena knows that Miette is only pretending to be annoyed that they've become accustomed to reading one another. It makes her smile in secrecy as she turns to head down to the hospital wing of the manor.

She opens a door and the room is a sterile white, quiet and clean to the furthest corner. It's a much different atmosphere than the smell of steel, smoke, and tang of blood that Serena could still taste on her tongue. She ponders if this feeling would ever go away as she collapses into the chair beside the bed.

Serena slumps in her seat and balances her temple on her fingers as she breathes out the day's stresses and turmoils while gazing at a sleeping Ash. The monitor beside him is beeping steadily joined by the even slope of his breaths as he rests. Silence weighs heavily as Serena looks at him, taking in every detail and the weaving of his bandages, clinging to every breath to reassure herself that Ash was still alive.

He was beaten in a way that she never thought he could be. His ribs were broken, just shy of puncturing his lungs along with a concussion and several, even countless lacerations that needed to be stitched.

It's been weeks and Serena is on edge, and exhausted. Her mind swirls, in and out of memories. She settled on one, the day she last saw Ash's eyes and heard his voice before he was admitted to Iris' care.

"He'll be just fine. He just needs a lot of rest," Iris had commented. "He didn't want you to see him like this."

Serena nearly laughed because she could envision Ash's protests that inevitably fell of deaf ears. Stubborn, though he would never admit it.

"It doesn't change anything," Serena assured. "He nearly-" she pauses, her grip tightened over the rails of the bed. "I would never think less of him."

Iris cracked a smile while tucking her hands into the pockets of her white coat. "Figured as much, but I suppose it's too late to ask the question."

Serena turned her head. "What?"

"It doesn't get easier from here, Serena. Are you sure about all this?"

Serena's eyes fall to Iris' curious gaze and the near shadows above her eyelids due to her dark purple hair. She remembered everything and nothing, all at once. Giovanni Ketchum died because of her and her hands are bloodier than they have ever been.

And just like she had killed him with no hesitation, her answer came out unbarred.

"Iris, with all due respect, don't ask me a ridiculously stupid question like that again," Serena said with no anger, but a firm resolve.

Iris chuckled, satisfied with the answer. "Only if you tell Ash the same."

After that day, Serena never left. Many useless attempts were made to have her rest in her own bed for the night and not the stiff couch, or the uncomfortable lounge chair.

"He's safe here, boss. Your back must be hurting like crazy sleeping like that."

The protests from others finally go quiet when Serena says, "I don't want him to be alone when he wakes up. Not again."

No one dared to question it after that.

Serena rouses herself from her drifting consciousness, the present moment rushing back.

The guilt continues to prick at her heart knowing Ash did it all for her. Serena's eyes traced the cuts and bruises she can see along Ash's brow bone, to his jaw, and neck, skimming over the memories of what he endured for her, for all of them.

Serena rises from her seat, and leans over carefully to brush the stray strands of Ash's hair away from his lashes, her fingertips gently curving over those same wounds. She kisses each one of them with a whisper of promises on each press of her lips. She sighs against Ash's cheek, hoping with each touch she could breathe a new life for Ash. A life they could face together, the burden a fragment lighter.

She feels no remorse in her heart for what she's done, but how long that emotionless void would last is lost on her. She thinks of Dawn and Misty and wonders if their smiles would change. Looking at Ash, she wonders if his victorious grin was brighter all those years ago.

Serena wonders if her own smile is different, if her mother would recognize the young troublemaker that loves very few, but loves those very few with all her heart. Beneath her new mask as a killer, that, she isn't sure of. She led a massacre of Ash's enemies and she knew they wouldn't be her last. She has no doubts that there were other demons in the world, a convocation of shadows waiting on bated breath to bring Ash and his reign to a bloodsoaked end. The war is hardly finished, but Serena became quite used to redefining sin.

The heavens above may never forgive her, but a sinner she will be, if Ash is the one who asks. Serena intertwines their fingers and grips onto a desperate hope — to see Ash's eyes glitter in every facet she adores. A tear streaks down her face as she begs, Ash's hand pressed against her lips.

"Please, wake up."