The Lionfield Brothers ✔

20| ''Daniel, he killed Daniel''

A/N: Picture of Principal Cobalt's office in the media.

KEIRA

'I don't know what's worse, another box of take-out,' I held up the Chinese take-out with ramen, 'or a really ripe banana,' this time I swapped the box for a bludgeoned banana, 'What did you do with this? Try to stab someone?'

'Funny,' Blaze managed, his face emotionless and impassive, 'It's all we got'.

'And since when are you the one responsible for feeding me?' I raised an eyebrow, swinging one leg over the stretcher that I'd been decaying on like a half moulded zombie for the past week.

Blaze's abnormal charcoal black eyes that occasionally flashed an angry red flickered to my bruised legs, 'Vincent said you shouldn't move'.

'I'd think you'd be happy if I accidentally broke a leg,' I commented, watching red flash in those predictable orbs again before he pushed back a lock of black hair with an exasperated sigh.

'Break two,' his eyes narrowed before he dumped a foil tray next to me.

I watched him stomp upstairs and slam the basement door shut before opening the tin foiled wrapping paper; curry and rice - better.

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My wounds were taking longer to heal than we had all anticipated.

Vincent had deduced after four days that the Víran had probably stabbed me with some kind of special weapon, designed especially to create problems during healing processes.

'You should be happy you got van der Laine blood in you,' he remarked once after changing my bandages, 'or else you'd be a lot worse, bella'.

I hadn't needed to scold him then, the icy glare that Jett had shot him was enough to make him mumble a sorry before disappearing back upstairs.

I was thankful for Vincent's help, I really was. Even Pixie's salve had somehow worked, making me sleep better and subside the pain.

But I could never forget their faces, the faces of people that flashed before my eyes like a sickening powerpoint. People who had hurt me, cut into me, screamed at me when I didn't perform what they wanted me to.

I felt like they had put a block on whatever healing properties I had, maybe I was too traumatised to make it happen.

'You're shaking'

I screamed out, the tin foil tray falling from my hands before I looked up to see Jett.

He caught my food neatly and I tried to ignore those abnormal reflexes before he handed it back to me, 'I said; you're shaking'.

'I heard what you said,' I gulped, deciding to take a spoonful of the warm food to expel my awkward reaction. It was only when I lifted the spoon that I noticed that my hands were indeed shaking - uncontrollably. Jett watched me as I struggled to steady it, instead, my hand spared as if electrified and the spoon fell to the floor. This time; he didn't catch it. 'I can't do this,' I whispered, so softly I wasn't even sure it really came from me. It could've been background static from the light that illuminated my stretcher.

The Elrioud was silent as he pulled the chair to me, sitting down upon it before he looked up at me, 'What can't you do?'

I let out a laugh, a short abrupt bitter laugh that I never knew I could even produce, 'This,' I gestured at the basement, 'I'm tired of being here, tired of the memories and the pain and the fücking pus,' I snarled, gesturing at my stab wound that had oozed through the bandages again, tainting them with black.