Withering World [MCSM Fanfiction]

HABITATION: Chapter 37

Petra

Just in time, I swerve in under his shoulder to hold him up and I notice his right side becoming much heavier like he cannot support his own weight on this half.

"Over there," I say, spotting a rock nearby.

His limp becomes tougher to deal with by the second. I can tell he's trying his best not to make a sound - suffering is scribed all over his face.

Stupid scavenger must have injured him badly.

As I sit him down on the rock, my mind flies to all the worst possible scenarios that might've affected his leg. He could've dislocated his kneecap or torn a muscle. He could've broken a bone! Heck, I'm never sure about Lukas's pain tolerance or how much of it he can hide.

"Tell me what's going on," I say as sternly as I can.

"I'm just tired and I need to rest."

My first response would be to exclaim my vexation or even laugh, but I know better than to respond with any emotion at all, hand on hip to dominate the conversation. "And it requires screaming out in pain? You can't lie to save your life, Lukas. What's wrong with your leg?"

"Okay, fine - I sprained my ankle."

"If only your bluffing was as good as your reasoning. Seriously, you're the worst liar I've ever met: spill."

His words abandon him; he pulls his problematic leg closer to his body as if he were defending it.

"Lukas, I'm gonna ask you one more time. This is how it's gonna go - you're gonna tell me the truth now or I'm gonna make us stay right here until you do so. What happened to your leg?"

Sullenly, he cowers in dread. His fingers haltingly move towards the opening of his right protective greave and he tosses it aside without much difficulty like it usually would. It clatters to the floor while he leisurely pulls up the hem of his pants. "You're going to regret this."

"We'll see about that," I challenge, getting ahead of myself a little too early.

At first, I don't see a single flaw. Lukas has always been too safe with injuries since spawn except for whenever we go on adventures, which he doesn't do often. Not a single cut or bruise lies in my sight. Higher and higher, he draws the bottom of his pants up.

No. No, no, no. Blind me. Take my eyes away from this abomination.

There it is - the mystery imperfection on his calf that's keeping him from saying anything. On the back of his right leg, a specific bruise makes me jolt in my place. This type bruise is too familiar: how could it not be, with the network of webbing veins and saturated violet undertones?

Me, Jesse, and now Lukas. This is the last thing I wanted to see.

"You're-" I scoff in disbelief, lips quivering, "you're kidding."

"You wanted the truth - this is it."

It's like my belt buckles around me five hundred times tighter. Throughout all my time I've known Lukas, this beats all the trepidation he's ever swung at me. "You're infected? How? Since when?"

"I believe it was when we were in the Order Hall fighting skeletons. But I didn't notice it until we got to the sea temple."

"The sea- why didn't you tell me? We could've turned back!"

"There's no way I was gonna abort this mission. And we were already too far in."

Although I'm aware my tone of voice is sounding more and more vulnerable, I don't let it obstruct my point. "Too far in? Do you have any idea how much further left we still have to go?"