Fallen (Undergoing editing)

Chapter four:

The fly home was miserable and painful. My wounded wing only hurt more with all the hard flying, especially carrying another body which was a strain all by itself. Enrique grunted with exasperation beside me, Falcon flopped lifelessly over his shoulder. I kept looking over to Falcon, checking to make sure he was hanging on, but I had to admit, I didn't feel too good about how he looked.

          I'd never been so happy to see Oura in all my life. My wings just about gave out as soon as I'd landed with Thor in my arms, his wings hanging limply at his sides.

          "Medic! We need a Medic!" Enrique yelled as Guardians raced to us, taking Thor from my bloody arms along with Falcon and wheeled them off on gurneys. Enrique stood, breathing hard, his hair matted with blood.

I took no time in hanging around before I strode off.

          "Hey, where are you going?" Enrique said grabbing my shoulder that still hurt.

 I shoved him off angrily. He'd been the reason the traitor got away. "I need to see Falcon, make sure he's alright."

          "He'll be fine, get cleaned up—"

          "No, Enrique, I want to go to him—"

          "Lilith, don't—that's an order!"

I stopped and glared at his blazing golden eyes and felt my fists curl at my sides. I narrowed my gaze at his jaw that I wanted to break so dearly.

          "You don't need this right now, go—get clean and attend to your wounds. Worry about yourself before you go diving after others who are already cared for, okay?" Enrique said reaching out to me with his warm hand.

I shoved him off again and stomped away to the dorms.

          Biting my tongue, I'd shut up and gone to the showers, washing away all the blood and dirt from my bruised skin. I had to admit, as good as it felt to be clean and clear once again, I couldn't help but feel even dirtier from leaving Falcon.

My mind raced over and over, the adrenaline finally kicking out of my system. Almost every part of me was bruised, bloody and battered, but my worry for Falcon couldn't deepen any more. My mind rolled over to the rookie—the traitor who'd attacked my Flock, how my gut feeling from the beginning had been right. I leaned my head against the stall wall, breathing through the thick moist hot air. I was tempted to fly back to the moors and track down the traitor and have great fun in ripping his wings off, but I couldn't leave Falcon. Even if he was dead, I felt bound to his side.

Unable to stay patient enough to get dry, I changed back into my guardian uniform, still wet and started for the infirmary.