The World's Not Waiting (Ryden/Rydon & Peterick) *On Hiatus*

Chapter 22: Alone?

Dedication goes to @CharmingRoss from Chapter 20 comments (It's going to take a while to get all these dedications to you awesome readers so Fob4_ever, tpol1011, punkygirl409464, phantastic_ferard, VampireVengence, and Lyric_Ario_Dance_ are on the list c: that's at least 6 more chapters ;P) 

Patrick's POV:

The first thing I felt was air. Cool air. My brain was still fuzzy and waking up seemed to be an issue. But it was definitely cool, an artificial, air-conditioned cool. I was inside somewhere, I knew that much. But my eyes were still plastered shut, stubbornly resisting to open. I heard the casual sound of talking between two voices I couldn't identify, a rough, raspy male's voice, and a shrill female's. I felt the cool roughness of hardwood floor beneath me and smelt the strong aroma of herbs and chemicals, it was an odd mix. My head was pounding and I could still feel the sting of the sunburn on my skin. My eyes twitched and suddenly I could open them, revealing a dimly lit room. The hardwood floor I had felt beneath me was rotten and deteriorating. The walls made of brown hide and wood. I noticed dingy, shredded rugs laying on the floor in front of me, crates stacked in the corner, behind a small table formed with bricks, miscellaneous pots and bowls with mysterious mixtures resting upon it. The scent seemed to get stronger, and as I brought myself to a sitting position, I noticed a small boiling pot in the opposite corner, a creepy, greenish-brown liquid bubbling inside. The voices were still talking but there were no other people in the room, it was deserted except for me. I stood up slowly, my head spinning and throbbing, my eyesight grew fuzzy and I took a step out of the hut, my legs wobbly and unstable.  I noticed it was once again the middle of the day, the hot heat of the sun beating down.

"He's awake!" The man's voice exclaimed and before I could process any thoughts, the distinct sound of metal on leather rang through my ears and a harsh metal blade was pressed up against my throat.

"Who are ya and what do ya want!?" The voice demanded in a gruff, authoritative tone. I opened my eyes, which had instinctively shut upon attack, and noticed it was a small, squat man, even shorter than myself. His hair was in crazy dreadlocks, tied back with a red, paisley bandana, he was dressed in ripped, dirty, rag-like clothes, hanging off of his shoulder and baggy. His teeth were yellow, decayed, chipped, and probably diseased and he reeked like nothing I had ever smelt before. I opened my mouth to speak and felt the knife loosen just a tad,

"I-I'm..my name is Patrick and, I, um..." I stumbled over my words, wondering if this was the infamous apothecary we were after. It sure seemed like it based off the run-down, grim looking shack I had woken up in and the grody man in front of me. But I couldn't take any chances, I couldn't just ask him for the anecdote, especially without the others, "I don't know why I'm here honestly, I was hoping you would have an explanation..."

"I found ya all right, but that's not what I'm asking, I'm asking what yer doing out in the desert all on yer own wandering onto my property!?" The man questioned,

"OUR property!" The woman, who had been out of my sight until now, interjected.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." He looked back at me, staring up into my eyes with a accusing gleam. I tried to process what he'd just said, wandering in the desert, alone....

"But I...I'm not alone, at least I wasn't alone," I responded, my voice rough and dry from the lack of water and dehydration I had been suffering from.

"Ya seemed pretty alone when ya wer wandering around babbling meaningless phrases, ya passed out right by my front door....I had to take ya in," He said, spitting into the dirt beside him, then removing the knife, his mood visibly softening, "but I can obviously tell yer confused," he stepped back and slid past me into the hut, "come 'n side."

I stepped back into the hut and was greeted once again by the strong scent of herbs and chemicals. The man was right, even if I had come with three others, I was feeling pretty damn alone right now. Alone and terrified. The man and whoever the lady was, were sitting on another dirty rug in front of the boiling pot, staring up at me expectantly. I took this as an invitation to join them and plopped down on the floor as well.

"So, Patrick, what is the last thing you remember?" The man asked me, and I thought. I hadn't really focused on thinking about the past day, but now that I thought of it all I remembered was being with the guys and deciding we had been sent out here to die, we all decided to go our separate ways in search of necessities such as food and water, planning to meet up by the bush we were currently standing by. We knew it was the only bush for miles so it wouldn't be that hard to locate. After that, everything was a little fuzzy, I remember the sun setting beneath the horizon and thinking I saw an oasis, so I headed towards it...and that's where I blacked out. I told all this to the man and he nodded along in agreement. Sighing and standing up,

"Well yer definitely not the first this has happened to, I can guarantee, I'm just glad I got to you in time," He turned to the boiling pot, grabbed the spoon that was resting in it and stirring gently before removing a flask from beneath his raggy shirt and pouring some into it.

"Here, this should help with the dehydration," He said casually, handing me the flask. The liquid did not look too appetizing and I had knew it could be dangerous to drink some dark liquid from a man in the middle of the desert. But I was so far beyond parched that I didn't even care anymore, I downed the liquid all at once, my throat instantly moistening.

"It'll take a while to kick in, but heat stroke often causes many effects," the woman spoke and gestured to the now empty flask, "but that'll definitely help,"

I nodded in thanks but didn't have any words to reply with, the three of us sat in silence for a few tense moments before the man spoke once again,

"Ya say ya was with people?" He asked and I nodded once again,

"I know where they may be...but it might not be pretty..."

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A/N: Thank you all one again for reading, I always rant in these, so I'm just going to keep it short and sweet :) Commenters will get put on the list for dedications (it's growing quite rapidly, but the more people there are to dedicate chapters to, the more chapters there wil be) 

Picture: What Patrick saw when he woke up...one side of the hut.