Episode 80 — Between Life and Silence
Raian lay still on the cot, his skin cold and damp, lips tinged grey. Aria pressed the back of her hand to his cheek, trembling as the heat continued to fade. The blood hadn't stopped. Even with pressure, gauze, and prayers, it soaked the bandage, turning her hands red again and again. Her chest felt crushed beneath the weight of his slowing breath.
"Breathe… please…" she whispered, brushing damp hair from his forehead. "You promised."
He didn't answer. Only a faint twitch of his fingers.
Saira returned with a rusted first-aid box and a half-empty bottle of antiseptic. Her eyes landed on Raian's pale face, and she flinched. "He's… worse."
Aria didn't look up. "We're running out of time."
"There's a man," Saira said quickly, setting the supplies down. "A medic. Used to work underground. He won't ask questions."
Aria met her eyes, fierce and wet. "Then get him. Now."
Saira nodded, already pulling keys from her pocket. "You'll be alone with him for thirty minutes. Maybe more."
"I'll keep him alive," Aria murmured, her voice low but certain. "Just get back in time."
The door slammed behind Saira. Aria sat beside Raian, her fingers never leaving his chest. Each breath was a struggle now. Rattling. Ragged. She tore open the bandage again, the wound red and angry, blood still weeping. Her hands moved fast, cleaning, pressing, wrapping with what little they had.
"You've survived worse," she said, trying to believe it. "You'll survive this."
Raian's head rolled slightly toward her. His lips parted. No sound. Just a flicker of pain in his clouded eyes.
"I'm here," she whispered, leaning close. "I'm not going anywhere."
His fingers grazed her wrist. She clutched them tightly, anchoring both of them.
Minutes passed. Then longer. The silence of the warehouse pressed in around them. Raian's breathing slowed further. She counted the seconds between each one—too many. Too slow. Her heart pounded, panic clawing at her throat.
"Don't," she choked. "Don't leave me, Raian. Don't you dare."
But his eyes were closing again. Slipping past the veil of pain and into something darker.
"No." Aria reached for the syringe in the med kit, something marked as adrenaline. She barely knew the dosage. Her hands shook as she filled it.
"Please forgive me," she whispered, before jabbing it into his thigh.
Raian's back arched with the jolt. His eyes flew open, a raw gasp tearing from his chest. He coughed—wet, violent. Blood splattered his lips, but he was breathing again. Alive.
Aria sobbed in relief, clinging to his hand. "Stay with me. Just a little longer. Please…"
He tried to speak, but no words came. She leaned closer. His lips formed her name. She nodded, tears falling freely now. "I'm here."
Outside, tires screeched. The warehouse door slammed. Saira's voice echoed, "He's here!"
A tall man followed behind her—dark coat, eyes sharp. He carried a worn leather bag and moved fast, kneeling beside the cot with practiced calm.
"What happened?" the medic asked.
"Gunshot. Upper abdomen. Significant blood loss," Aria answered, voice hoarse.
"Vitals?"
"Weak. Barely stable. I used adrenaline to keep his heart going."
The medic nodded and opened his kit. "Clear the space. I'll need light, water, and silence."
Aria stepped back but never let go of Raian's hand.
The man worked swiftly. Sutures. Saline. Painkillers. An IV drip from a dangling beam. The room filled with sharp smells—alcohol, blood, adrenaline. Aria didn't blink. She memorized every movement, every stitch he placed into the man she loved.
"Will he make it?" she asked finally, when the medic began cleaning up.
The man didn't answer right away. He looked down at Raian, who now slept—still, but no longer slipping away.
"If the infection doesn't set in… and if he rests completely, no stress or movement…" The medic closed his bag. "Then maybe."
"Then he will," Aria said firmly.
The man gave her a tired look. "It's in his hands now."
Saira saw him out, and silence returned. Aria pulled up a chair, never letting go of Raian's hand. She stared at him for a long time. His breathing, though shallow, was steady now. But the trauma lingered in every line of his face.
She bent forward, pressing her lips to his knuckles. "You scared the hell out of me."
His fingers twitched faintly in hers. A whisper of response.
She smiled through tears. "I'm going to stay right here. Until you open your eyes and yell at me again. Until you tell me to stop worrying like a fool."
Another twitch. Slight but real.
Hours passed. Aria changed the dressing twice, wiped the sweat from his face, fed him spoonfuls of water whenever he stirred.
Night fell outside, and the wind howled across the riverbank.
Saira returned with food, blankets, and silence. She placed a hand on Aria's shoulder but said nothing. There was nothing to say.
Later, as the warehouse slipped into shadow, Raian's eyes cracked open again. Barely.
Aria leaned forward instantly. "Hey," she whispered, brushing his cheek. "Still with me?"
A ghost of a smile. "Barely."
"Idiot," she breathed, laughing and crying all at once.
He looked around slowly. "This… isn't heaven, right?"
"Not unless heaven smells like damp concrete."
He coughed a weak laugh. "Then I guess I made it."
Aria's smile trembled. "You did."
A pause. Then, voice like sandpaper, "I heard you. Everything. You… stayed."
"Of course I did." She leaned her forehead to his. "You'd do the same."
"I already have," he whispered, closing his eyes again. "I just didn't think you would."
She exhaled shakily. "You don't get to doubt me anymore."
"I won't," he murmured. "Not again."
His hand weakly found hers. Held it. And this time, he didn't let go.