Pricked

6

     The hours drag on until the sun rises and the door swings open again revealing Dr. Arren's smiling face.

"How's my favorite patient?" He asks as he does a quick check of my vitals and sets up a new IV fluid bag. He spends a few hours with me, talking of him, obviously because he doesn't know who I am but he does tell what he thinks I will do when I wake up.

"Maybe you will go on a run to stretch out your legs. They're going to be sore when you get up since you haven't moved for this long." He wiggles his feet as if to show he can run with me if necessary "but I can help you with your physical therapy and there's another therapy oh what's it called?!" He taps on his head urging the information to come into his mind.

He could have said anything and I would have believed him but, he really wants to give me the correct information. He wants to be a good doctor, but I can already tell he's a great doctor.

"Occupational" he says with pride. "Occupational therapy! It is really little known as of now but, the doctor that I worked with was very persistent that helping people work in the market and farms again after injury would catch on. Because everyone needs money for food and to get money you need to work." He continues on about occupational therapy but I doubt it will catch on. Who actually wants to work? It's a good excuse to not work if you were to ask me.

"You don't need to work in order to get money," I state "because I only work here so I can steal meals but I make much more money stealing on the streets. I did that all the time and I was doing just fine until this predicament." I add and flick my body, upset at myself for going down in that cellar to start with. He gives me a soft smile and my anger melts away. "I wouldn't have told you that if I were awake and you could hear me" I say to him. "I don't want to scare you away with my bad behavior."

There is a sudden knock at the door that makes Arren jump, his hand flying to his chest. He pauses slightly sucking in a breath before removing the fluid bag and needle from my arm. He takes a deep shaky breath regaining his professionalism, "come in."

"Arren you ready?" The tall ginger hair man stands at the door looking tired, sweaty and bored that is until he sees me. His tired eyes widen and his mouth is suddenly gaping open.

"Yeah just give me second."

"So this is the dead girl" The ginger says walking up to me with a smirk on his face.

"She's not dead" Arren says to him and I give a nod in agreement.

"Well bud I hate to break it to you but she's not really alive either" the ginger giant reaches out an arm towards me and I swipe at it trying to get him away from me.

"Don't touch her!" Arren says in confusion pulling back his friends dirty hand. "Peter you really should have washed up after training" Arren says looking down at the difference between his and Peters hands. "This is a clean environment!" He states "she could get an infection or disease from things brought in" Peter laughs and flops down on my bed next to me.

"So you are Peter" I already feel protective, possessive over Arren and I don't want Arren to leave.

"Yeah, yeah Arren." He's lying right next to me, it's uncomfortable to look at, to watch his body lay next to me, observing me, judging me. "So what's her deal?" He asks still watching me.

"Get up before I throw you out" Arren says giving Peter a tug at his arm. Peter sits up slowly swinging his legs over the side of the bed kicking Arren's bag as his feet fall. "Thanks" Arren says dryly and moves his bag up on the chair. "I'm ready, let's go."

"No." Peter says plainly

"No?" Arren asks confusion and irritation all over his tired face. "What do you mean no?"

Peter looks back down to me "what happened to her?" was that empathy in his constant cocky tone?

"Poisoned" Arren states softly looking down to me as well.

"I feel so small" I say and stand atop the bed to look down at them. "Stop looking down to me, it makes this whole situation even more awkward. In fact don't look at me at all!" I jump back off the bed and jam an arm through Peter and he looks up and around as a shiver goes through him. I laugh and plop down next to him, maybe he is not all that bad. I debate his presence as I watch him squirm at my touch.

"What are you doing?" asks Arren trying to withhold a laugh "you got a bug up your pants?" Arren's laughter can no longer be contained as he watches Peter wiggle and move in all directions while feeling my arm through him. I remove my arm and he gives one final shiver.

"I... I..." he stammers and searches the room then looks down at himself for something that might have caused his discomfort. He shakes himself off and his eyes travel to Arren. "Can we go?" He questions regaining his composure, standing tall as he heads for the door.

"Bye Arren" I say pathetically as he nods to his friend at the door.

"Goodbye... Anastasia? That is pretty right?" Arren says compassionately as he looks back at me.

"That is pretty I wish my name was pretty like that."

"No I don't think that right either, well, I will see you tomorrow." With a nod to me he turns and leaves shutting the door behind him.

Tomorrow can't come fast enough.

"Tell me more of Peter" I say immediately upon Arren's solo entrance. Peter is a guard in training or at least that what Peter decided his role is in the palace. Arren tells me that he cleans the guard swords and armor. Arren's eyes smile as he shakes his head at the thought of Peter being guard, a real guard.

"But, I let him pretend he's a guard," Arren informs me, "It helps with his confidence."

"He didn't seem to have problem with confidence yesterday!" I exclaim as I watch Arren examine me. As if he knew I wanted a further explanation of whom Peter was he continues to tell me more.

"He will be a guard, one day." His smile breaks and the corners of his eyes wrinkled with tiny lines from stress. "He trains... he is used as a sparring partner at times, other times he spars against me. It won't be long before they make him a guard and he no longer has time for me." Arren looks both happy and dissatisfied that his friend's success might be the end of their friendship. But Peter seems to care deeply for his friend and I don't think he would, well I'm not sure but, I don't think he will leave Arren. They seem to be the best of friends, like me and Mitch nothing separating them, us. Well hopefully they work out better then Mitch and me.

The rest of Arren's stay is mainly quiet. He reads in his book and taps his foot to the beat of his watch. I try and ask him questions, urging him to hear me but I give up and try and find something to make my life worth living.

What seems like an eternity later I am unsuccessful at stealing any objects, running through any walls, or possessing a person in order for them to fix me... I am successful at falling down a flight of stairs though, it didn't hurt but after I got up I ran back to my body to make sure she was still breathing. Arren is packing up when I check on my body, I missed my whole session with him because I was bored. I sign takes over me and I feel so stupid for leaving him. I wasted time with him for failed thieves and endless head-butts into the walls.

"Don't go" I say grasping for his arm before remember I still can't touch him. I leave me hand near him as he packs up, I can't feel him, he can't feel me but I feel closer to him somehow. With my hand hovering next to him.

"Goodbye Marilynn?" I drop my hand back to my side and my tired eyes slide to my body.

"WAKE UP!" I bite out, demanding my body to come back to life. I have tried this more times then I wish to admit but I can't think of anything else to do, to say. I turn back to Arren but he is already gone, I rush towards the door to see him stumbling down the steps. The shiny stone floor echoes his steps as he goes. "Bye" I say dully as the palace door shuts with a loud smack.