Protector

Chapter XXVIII

I didn't expect him to stay. I didn't want him to stay. But I didn't want to see this unforeseen coin's other side once he left either.

I could barely sleep in the next few weeks. Ghost and Christian plagued me whenever I shut my eyes. I'd wake panting and covered in sweat, eventually crying over the vividness of it all.

I dragged my feet into the kitchen one day, my skin marred with dark bruises under my bloodshot eyes. My tears had long since dried on my skin, leaving no evidence of my bouts of anguished sobs.

Blinking, my weary gaze fell on Jessica's concerned one. My hackles rose. "What?"

"You okay?"

I scowled and put down the cereal I was pouring. "I'm fine. Just haven't been sleeping well."

The concerned pout lingered on the Hunter's face. "Still have night terrors?"

My spoon fell; I almost choked on my food.

"Seems like it," She murmured, crossing her arms. She fixed me with a quizzical stare while I coughed. "How bad are they?"

I opened my mouth to protest but just averted my gaze.

The Hunter sighed. "You can talk to us, you know? We'll listen."

I resumed eating my cereal with a stoic face. I don't want to talk, Jess. I just want to be left alone.

"But talking about whatever is going on might help—"

I slammed my fist on the table. I don't give a shit about that! I snarled with burning red eyes.

Jessica recoiled, fear and surprise drowning her outdoorsy scent. I clenched my jaw and blinked. The red was gone. Talking won't make it go away, so why bother?

The Hunter was left with words stuck in her throat as I stormed out of the kitchen. Traitorous tears slipped down my cheeks, but my hands pawed them away before they could fall.

Talking about the two ghosts of the men most prominent in my existence wasn't going to make them disappear. It was just going to make me admit that they're there. And I wasn't ready to face that.

"She kinda had a point, you know." Electricity coursed through me. "Talking about what's hurting you might make things easier."

I gritted my teeth, coming face-to-face with Christian— no, my mind's image of him. "Don't you ever tell me what to do," Rage bubbled within me as I turned to head back to my room, but the voice beckoned my will. And my will submitted faster than my mind could ever refuse.

"You wouldn't treat me like this and you know it."

I paused. I could already imagine the dry scoff erupting from my lungs at the smug smile he'd be wearing. No, no this wasn't the Christian I loved. This was all in my head, right? Right? I couldn't be feeling these things towards something that wasn't there, could I?

"No, I wouldn't," The words flew out of their own accord. They weren't a lie, but neither was the torn stare I gave the vivid figure in front of me. "You're not him, though." Why does my heart ache when I look at you?

He frowned, averting his gaze when it became lonesome. "Then why do you keep tormenting yourself with me?"

I clenched my jaw so hard I thought I'd break it. "I don't know." My fists were balled so tight I feared I'd make my hands bleed. "I didn't ask for this, okay? I never wanted this, so stop making it seem like I had a choice!"

He scoffed, caressing my cheek. I shuddered, pulling away. He stopped. "I didn't choose to be a part of your trauma either."

I swallowed hard and forced myself to meet his gaze. It was as soft and dominating as his real self. It demanded my attention but also beckoned trust and confidence. Was this why I couldn't resist clutching my aching heart even after he left me?

"Why can't you be real?" I pleaded, on the verge of letting my tears break free. "Why did you have to leave me like this, Chris?"

He stared at me with sorrow and regret. He won't answer because he couldn't. The real Christian would have never left me even if it meant he would die. This perversion of him was just the twisted remnants of the memory I had of him.

I inhaled sharply and ran back to my room. Looking back at where he stood, a twinge of pain and relief struck me when he was no longer there. It was all in my head after all.

My bed tempted me to curl into a ball and sleep. The momentary reminder of what I suffered almost every instance I slept made me resist the urge. Instead, I undid the bandages on my back. My body had long since healed itself of most of the cuts and bruises I arrived with, but some decided to linger.

The angry, red, and inflamed webs surrounding the entry wound to my back had calmed to soft pink, but they weren't disappearing like other, normal wounds.

To be honest, I wasn't surprised. Ghost had told us that Kresitar blood had toxic properties to Beasts, though believing him had been a bitter pill to swallow.

John told me how I suffered a seizure from Fang's frantic attempts to keep me alive. It was a sure sign of poison, leading the Hunters to use Yellow Monkshood to stabilize me. It undid the effects of the Kresitar blood and restored my healing factor; however, it didn't undo everything.

Part of me begged for the mark on my back to vanish, but another voice in the back of my head was already chanting for me to accept that this was all that could be done.

I just couldn't. Not when I had healing abilities that were supposed to erase traces of all the physical torture I went through. It wasn't fair. None of it was.

"Staring at it won't make it disappear." John's voice made a chill run through my spine.

I threw the former Hunter a mild glare while I undid a roll of fresh gauze. "Thanks for stating the obvious."

He shook his head with mild amusement, snatching the gauze out of my hands and gesturing for me to turn around. I begrudgingly obliged, but not before glaring at him through sharp eyes. "None of us are going to judge you for wanting to show your back, Malen'kiy Volk. We all have scars." (Little Wolf)

Blue crept into my eyes when I looked at the former Hunter over my shoulder. "It's not about shame or pride."

John adjusted the gauze over my back, covering the jagged lines snaking over my skin. He faced me, guiding my chin to meet his soft eyes. "I know it's not easy, but someday you'll learn to accept your scars as a testament of triumph rather than pain," he wiped away a tear I didn't know had slipped. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

I didn't respond and pulled away. "All I see whenever I look at it is Christian asking me why I let him die," With my jaw clenching and angry tears stinging my eyes, I jabbed the former Hunter's chest. "I should've been strong enough to finish the job."

John's gaze softened, swallowing my grief-stricken and angry form before he let it stray elsewhere. He left me standing there, murmuring words I couldn't hear before he closed the door behind him.

I screamed into my pillow.

~~~

A/N: That marks the end of Chapter 28. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Updates are every other Saturday, so stay tuned!