When The Stars Align

chapter ten | good night, sleep tight, don't let the nightmares bite

VICTORIA COMES UP to me instead of embracing her children first. Her hand goes to my forehead, like I miraculously now have a fever after my run. She touches my leg, but I move it away, getting back on my feet. Atticus stays on the ground, holding his leg. I needed to find him a first aid kit.

I limped my way to the kitchen without saying anything, grabbing the fit aid kit from the cupboard, which was in the same location as when I was a kid. I limped back and crouched down beside my old friend, telling him to stretch his leg out.

"Heal your cut first," he said, wincing as he did. He was trying to put a brave face on but he couldn't. I grabbed the scissors in the kit and cut open the fabric of his pants.

"You have a fucking bullet in your leg, and I know exactly how to take it out," I say, my voice stern. "A scratch in my leg is nothing compare to this. I could stitch it back easily." I turned to Lysander. "Do you have any painkillers. This is gonna hurt."

Aurora moved closer, hovering over my shoulder. "Can I ask a question?" she asked, curious and innocent. She had a couple fingers in her hand mouth. "Why is his blood the colour of milk?"

I looked down at the injury and the hands I forgot to glove. The sticky substance was white, not red, like most others. I glanced up at the clock, the longer hand ticking past twelve. October first. I looked back down at the blood, then up at Atticus' face.

"I could do this myself," he said, reaching for the tools.

I kept it away from him, and grabbed the scalpel. Lysander handed Atticus the pills and a glass of water, which he took without force. Before starting, I glared at the audience, my expression telling them to walk away.

"What about my question?" Aurora asked, her eyes wide.

I sighed, knowing I didn't to say something. "You see, sometimes, some people's blood turns a different, weird colour. It's normal for them, but if it happens to you, you're going to tell your mommy and daddy, okay?"

She nodded, accepting that answer, and skipped away into the next room.

I focused my attention on Atticus and his wound. He winces as I touch his skin, so I take my time. It's quiet for the longest time as I open up the wound and search for the bullet. This was never an easy task, and he should probably get someone else to check it after. I should do for now.

Then again, how was he going to explain the colour of his blood to anyone else...

"You aren't going to ask anything about it?" he asks just then, leaning against the wall. "You aren't going to question me on why my blood is about a hundred shades lighter than the average human being."

I stretched my leg out. "That explanation for you would be the same for why mine is about a hundred shades darker than the average human being." The cut on my thigh now spilled black liquid. I bit my lip, trying to find the next words. "I'll... I'll explain later, please. This is going to feel weird."

I grabbed the tweezers and pulled the bullet out of his leg and placed it aside. It too was covered in the white, sticky substance of Atticus' blood. We stayed silent as I stitched his leg back up, putting care with each stitch. He was going to have a bad limp after this.

"Done," I say, tying it off.

He grabbed another set of tweezers and a needle. "Now you turn. I was telling you, I could have stitched myself up myself. I have skills too." He works with a needle and thread carefully. I told him I didn't need anything to numb the pain, and honestly, it truly was nothing. He does the stitches quickly but neatly, and we both help each other get up.

We both limp to the next room, leaving the mess of blood stains and the first aid kit on the ground. That could be someone else's problem now. I moved as fast I could, storming into the room and found myself face to face with the king of Noatra.