The Ties That Bind

VIII: The End of The Beginning

Hello, Everybody! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Off to the side, I posted a picture of what I kind of imagine Grace looking like. Sorry if it's not what you imagined. Also, I'm kinda sorry that this chapter is a little short. I really wanted this one to be long especially since I feel like I haven't updated in so long but I'm saving the long chapter for next time. Also, what do you guys think of the new chapter names? I thought it was a bit better than "Chapter 8". Enjoy the chapter!

(Richard POV)

Grace continues to assault me with questions. I suppose I can't really blame her. If I was in her position I probably would do the exact same thing. She is being surprisingly patient with me for someone who must be so confused. I try to answer her to the best of my ability, though I still try to stay clear of how exactly my brother's and I are able to travel back to our world. I want so badly to tell her the truth-the whole truth-but I know at the moment it will do more harm than good, and I can not willingly cause her more needless worrying.

As we start getting in the car, Grace and I both suddenly seem to remember my shoulder and the knife wound I received there. Truthfully, in the moment with the adrenaline pumping through my veins and focusing on saving Grace I forgot. I almost cringe at the thought. I must've seemed so weak to her, getting knocked down and leaving her to fend for herself like that. Now as I look down at my bloodstained shirt, the pain suddenly seems all the more present.

"Here," she says, shucking off her blue hoodie and handing it over to me. "You're supposed to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, right?"

I push her jacket back to her. "I don't want to ruin your jacket. Can you grab my bag for me from the car? It has a small first aid kit in the back."

She does as I tell her, pulling the bag out of the car and placing the first aid kit out on the sidewalk. I brace myself against the side of the car as Grace takes out some bandages and a bottle of painkillers.

"You're out of antiseptic." I can tell that she is trying to remain calm as she speaks.

"That's fine. It's only about an hour to get back and we can disinfect it then."

Grace comes over to me silently with a distressed look on her face. "Can you lift up your sleeve?" She asks quietly.

I try, but I already know that the wound is higher up than lifting my sleeve would allow. I'm wearing a long sleeve button down shirt and no amount of rolling-up would help. I sigh. "I think I'll have to take my shirt off for you to actually be able to reach it."

A dark blush colors her cheeks. She chastely keeps her eyes focused on the ground as I unbutton my shirt and slip the sleeve down over my shoulder, still keeping my sleeve half on. Only then does she final look up, and then only at my shoulder. I fear for a moment that this situation probably makes her uncomfortable. I am about to reassure her when she speaks.

"I'm sorry, Richard."

My brow creases in confusion. "Why are you sorry?"

"I should've stayed in the car, I shouldn't have been arguing with you after you had just saved my life. If I hadn't, you wouldn't have been distracted and you wouldn't have gotten hit with that dagger."

I have never seen a girl cry before. I remember my mother vaguely being sad when my father was gone, traveling-wondering around aimlessly as if one day she might walk around the corner and find him there-but never had she actually cried in front of me. Now, Grace looks on the verge of tears and I don't know what to do. I can't help but notice how frail and vulnerable it makes her look. I want so badly to touch her face or to comfort her in some way but I hold back; I know it is not my place to comfort her in that way.