Control… I had none of it; I never did when I was asleep in this dream, memory, whatever it is called. All I knew was that whatever happened, I was just meant to watch it. So with a few more aimless pulls at myself, I let go and just let it happen. I still planned on trying to take control, but not right now..
I was sitting in a room filled with my team. I grew irritated, and the itch from my cut neck became too frustrating until I finally stood from the uncomfortable bed. I walked past my comrades, who were speaking with one another, all talking about the war, fighting, and who they had lost.
My mind was only on Dawson. He was in the medic tent, away from the barracks, where everyone was staying warm from the snow that was just starting to pick up. Before I could leave the warm building, I felt a tug.
"Missy?"
The pretty medic shook her head at me. "You need to stay and heal, Vienna. Your neck isn't fully healed yet."
"I'm sorry, but I can't sit around any longer." I scratched the back of my neck, feeling my body shake from the cold passing through the door. "I need to go check on Dawson."
Missy shook her head, "Alright. But wear this, idiot." She slung her pink scarf around my neck, making sure my bandaged skin was covered. I gave a shy nod, thanking her as I opened the curtain to exit.
Before I could leave, she stopped me again. "Hey, Vi?" At the sound of the nickname, I turned to look at her. "Please tell Dawson that if he feels better, he should join us at the bar. We're all planning to go there to dance and drink." She coughed, slightly blushing. "If he's feeling up to it, of course. And you should come too."
I gave a slow smile, nodding to the woman before leaving. "Okay, Missy, I'll be back."
She nodded just as I was leaving. The cold air swept past me, ruffling my hair and piercing straight into my bones. I wrapped my arms around myself, searching for the medic tent located near the fire on the opposite side of the barracks. Spotting it, I quickened my pace, feeling the adrenaline surge and overpower the chill in the air.
I brushed the curtain aside, feeling the warmth from the small contained fire in the middle of the tent. But my attention shifted from myself to him.
He looked better than I felt. He lay on his side, reading a book without a shirt. The fire highlighted his features, casting a warm glow on his face and messy brown hair. His baggy eyes appeared restless, much like his body, which was bruised and bandaged all the way up his arms and chest.
He must have felt me watching; his gaze from the book soon raised to me. He looked shocked for a moment, then relaxed and smiled. "Hey, Vi."
"Hey.." I awkwardly responded, feeling the weight in my chest lift as he looked and sounded alright. I walked over, looking away, "Can I sit?"
"Course," he slowly shifted up, leaning on his back with his legs out. I sat beside him, feeling even warmer than I was. We sat for a while, neither of us speaking. I know I should say something. I came to him initially. "What's up?"
"Oh, um..." I felt so foolish, unable to find the words! I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the heat that crept up my spine. "I wanted to check on you. I heard that you were recovering, so I thought it would be best to visit in person and see how you were doing."
The man chuckled, his laughter sending butterflies fluttering in my chest. "What are you, my mom?" He shook his head. "I'm supposed to be doing that, Vi, don't take my responsibility!"
I laughed, blushing at his way of making me feel better. "You still can."
He looked back up at me, warm light covering his face. "Alright, how are you doing?" His eyes found their way to the scarf, his smile growing even bigger. "Missy's?"
"You know it," I chuckled, pulling the scarf to cover my awkward smile.
"It's cute." He laughed, slinging one of his legs over so he could be closer to me. "Can I look?"
I was still caught up on the word 'cute' for a second, so I hesitated to respond. Understanding that he was talking about the scarf and not me, I quickly stuttered out, "y-yeah. I mean, sure."
Dawson maintained his smile as he slowly removed the scarf, letting it drape down my shoulder while he examined the bandage. His emotions shifted, and guilt filled his eyes. He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and looking down.
His warm fingers moved over my bandaged neck. I wanted to grab the scarf and cover it again, but I held back. Before I could even ask what caused his reaction, he quickly spoke up.
"I'm sorry, Vienna. I am so sorry that happened to you."
"W-What?" That was unlike him. "What do you mean? I was the one who ran forward to try and help you and Elliot out. That was on me." I placed a hand around my neck, squeezing pretty hard. "This was all on me. Not you."
"Vi." Dawson placed his larger hands over mine. I felt my breathing hitch, and my eyes slightly sting with stray tears. "It was not your fault."
"Neither was it yours!" I quickly responded, tightening my fingers around myself. Dawson kept a gentle gaze on me, his warm and slow hands around my own, forcing me to release with a shuddering breath. I pulled away, making him do the same. "It was a close call. But all of us had them before. I am no different."
"What that bastard had said to you."
I stopped breathing for a moment, recalling that time when he held me down, the knife pressed so deep into my skin. My body shook, his face inches from my own. Voice a low, cruel shout…
I gulped, pressing my nails into my palm in an attempt to stop the memory back in time. I refused to let it stop me; it wasn't that bad. It could be worse, yes. But my team was there to save me.
"He was a disgusting man. Don't ever let that get to you, Vi," he patted my shoulder, making me release a breath I didn't know I was holding in. He scooted closer, hand still on me. "You're strong, I have no doubt you will take that and let it make you stronger."
I nodded numbly, keeping my eyes on his own. His hand moved over to my neck, fingers gliding over the sensitive bandage, but no pain came. All that came was warm comfort from the man whom I was fondly looking at.
He stared back at me, his warm eyes swirling with a mix of confusing emotions. Perhaps those were my own feelings reflected back at me. He moved closer, his warmth radiating from his skin and enveloping me. I felt entitled to it, craving him more and more—no, craving his warmth. I was consumed by an overwhelming need, a need for only him…
My eyes were on his lips. Dawson looked down at my own, only inches away, when he suddenly turned away. I felt my heart break, my eyes burn hot.
"Sorry.. I-I just wanted to make sure you're okay." He pulled his hand away, along with all the warmth and heat from my body with it. I let him, only looking down with a silent agony burning into my heart.
The heartache was painful, rubbing the inside of my throat before flowing back down, then up again. Tormating me, making fun of my hopes and dreams to finally just kiss the man.
It was a fruitless venture.
Of course, it always was. I knew that. My lieutenant could never have a relationship with me.
But a girl can dream…
My voice finally found its way back in my throat, allowing me to let out a small laugh. "Right.. uhm, Missy said that if you're feeling up for it, we are all going to the bar to drink and dance." I laughed, brushing myself off to stand. "If you want to come, we are gonna leave in a few."
"Oh, that sounds fun." Dawson nodded, putting his book under the blanket as both his legs moved off the bed. "I really need that, actually. I'll come with you guys."
"Uh- cool!" I wrapped the scarf around my neck, gulping away a few pitiful cries. "I will meet you at the vans with everyone else?"
The man stood now just as I lifted the curtain to leave. He turned to me and gave a playful salute. "See you then, Vi!"
As the curtain fell, I hurried back to the barracks where everyone was preparing. A few moments later, I met up with Missy, and we all headed to the van together.
Dawson was there, greeting the men as we entered separate vans. I stayed with Missy and the other girls, trying to suppress the urge to break down and cry over the painful memories of what had happened with Dawson.
Funny, getting shot and almost murdered by men on the battlefield doesn't make me cry. But getting rejected by Dawson does?
Well.. It's not really "rejected," but it might as well be.
I was just looking forward to going and drinking my misery away. Maybe my memories of what happened over the past few months can be washed away as well.
Now that's just hopeful thinking.
I did in fact NOT feel better drunk. I lay with my head on the bar table with a few empty glasses lined up beside my lifeless arms. My face buried in my sleeves, unable to feel anything because of the numbing liquor floating around in my stomach.
The metal music from the dance floor thudded against my ears. I winced and withdrew into myself, trying to block out the noise. It was frustrating; my head was pounding, but there was nothing I could do about it. With my body feeling like a helpless rag doll, I could only slowly turn my head toward the groups of dancers.
I could feel a slight pull when I caught sight of Dawson. It broke when I noticed that he was not alone.
Even through the foggy area, I could see two other women around my lieutenant's age dancing nearby. They swung their heads back, arms draped over his shoulders as if he were their prize. I watched in shock, feeling agony creeping up my back and clawing at my heart.
I cried. Yes, it felt worse than I had hoped it would.
With my head pushed into the crook of my arm, I sobbed quietly with the metal rock music muddying it out. I really wanted more liquor…
The bartender saw my raised hand and filled up more of the cups near me. I chugged them, swallowing down my pain until I could barely see anything in front of me. I sat alone for a while, the music pounding in the back of my head, irritating me until I gave in and stood up.
I staggered over, falling over myself until I made it to where all of my team was. I went straight to Dawson, ignoring the woman still dancing with him.
It was dark, with lights flashing on and off, sending a drumming pain through my skull. But I refused to let it bring me down. Instead, I used my dizzy head and foggy mind to dance with the others. I fit right in; there was no specific movement involved, I just bopped around.
As I did so, I was pushed closer and closer to Dawson. My eyes clashed with his own, and a slight pain stung my toes as I dipped my head back.
His smile was bright, reaching out for me to grab onto him. I swayed my hips, throwing myself closer to him, but I didn't actually touch him. I could hear his laugh, sending butterflies fluttering inside me. If it weren't for the clashing metal music, the bobbing heads, and the smoke that clouded my thoughts, I might have felt more vulnerable. I would be scared to see Dawson ever again after this.
But right now, I do not care. I could not care.
The liquor. The pain. It was all too numbing…
But nothing could numb the fear or the love I felt. I looked up at him, my body perfectly aligned with his, our faces just inches apart. I wanted so badly to fill that space between us. I longed to be with him, hoping he would see me the way I saw him. I was scared he would push me away, moving just in time like he did last time.
I could kiss him. He was so close to me. He was not moving away, just a few more inches, and I would finally know what his lips felt like.
The growing feeling in my chest was almost ready to burst. I was just about ready to pass out, fall onto the floor, and let the pain consume me along with the pity I had felt for myself..
But no. I could not let it go.
Letting it consume me would be doing precisely what Dawson doesn't want me to do…
And that is the last thing I wanted to happen. To let him down.
I let out a loud laugh, swinging my head back and away from his. I laughed like a maniac, the music around us being the only sound. I could feel Dawson's breath against my lips, his own laughter ringing out loud and clear.
It felt familiar, not only this feeling but also the environment itself. I knew I had been here before; I had danced the same dance, and I laughed the same laugh.
The cloud in my throat swelled, and I opened my mouth, hoping that whatever was trapped inside could guide my body. Instead, I hunched over, clutching my stomach with my lips stretched wide open. I felt like a fish out of water, gasping for air that wouldn't fill my lungs.
As my mind struggled, I was pulled back into the present. I found myself back on my mattress, shaking and heaving as if I had just run forty miles. Casper quickly came to my side, nudging and whining for my attention. My hands trembled, and sweat dripped down my back, soaking into my clothes.
Casper nuzzled my cheek, licking lightly until I gave him the attention he deserved. "I'm okay, boy.. I'm okay." He yipped, earning a few more nuzzles under his chin and then back to his ears. His wings fluffed up, sending feathers around with my laughter at the cute pup in my lap.
I looked down at my wrist, expecting to see the alert that I had to go to the session. But there wasn't any..
It felt strange. I suppose I hadn't slept for a long time—at least, it felt that way. It seemed like I had been asleep for what felt like an eternity. This experience was different from the others, perhaps because I wasn't awakened by Janus, even though I was pulled out of something.
Instead of dwelling on it, I quickly put on my armor and took off with Casper. He grew restless and excited as we flew through the sky. I had to make sure to keep an eye on him, often turning around to check that he was still following me. He stayed close to my legs, his wings occasionally brushing against them.
I turned back to ensure I hadn't hit anyone. No other beings were in the sky; most of them I had caught down on the ground. So I slowed down, forcing the hyper pup to the same. I didn't want to think and fly at the same time; I wanted to know if we had to meet at the field or at the arena. The arena was very far away; it took a while to get there last time, and we were flying on the Heaven Wolves.
Casper yipped, and I crossed my arms at him. "If only you knew how to use your given ability." He whined, unable to understand, so he only pushed his head into me. I giggled, rubbing him under the neck and grappling ourselves around in the air.
Suddenly, I heard a swoosh, and voices called out from below me. I quickly moved aside to let Rory fly past. The redhead staggered slightly, folding their wings to keep from soaring away. They shot me a sharp glare and asked, "How did you know I was coming?"
"You're very loud." I shrugged, moving even when both Seth and Bridget came up.
Orwell was with them, staying close to Bridget as they scolded the overly energetic angel. Rory blushed and hid beside Seth, hoping the older boy could protect them. Seth gently patted their heads like one would do with a child, which was enough to calm them down. I observed the two of them whispering to each other, a faint blush coloring their cheeks.
Jeez, just date already!
"Hey Vienna?" Bridget called for my attention. I turned to her, ignoring Casper, who was zipping around in circles around us. "Can we go with you to your session?"
"Sure," I nodded to them, moving to pass them before stopping. "But we are training in the Warrior Goddess's battle arena for the next few sessions."
I could see the spread of shock and distaste at the mention of that name. I regretted it, understanding what Arthur had meant about others not liking it. Most beings don't enjoy "violence" even if it was an exercise and consensual..
"You guys don't have to come-"
"No!" Bridget quickly jutted in, feathers spraying out.
Seth and Rory made their way over, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. The blonde spoke up, "We want to take you there. We won't stay, but let us drop you off?"
"We won't cause a scene!" Rory promised, hanging their arms around Seth.
I giggled, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "Okay.. I should get going; the session will start soon, and it will take a while to get there."
"Well, lead the way," Seth said, moving out of the way. This allowed me to take the lead, with everyone else following after.