Deicide

February 9-12 23xx

"Ah," He sat up quickly. Eden was still asleep. No, Silas remembered, in a coma. He hadn't moved an inch. Silas leaned close to his mouth, he was still breathing steady. His face was twisted and sweat beaded his head. Silas looked away, "Howlan?"

"Here." Howlan waved from one of the beds of the infirmary. "I brought a few pairs of clothes, for both you and him, I decided I'd let you change him though." With that, he hopped off the table and left the room. "I'm gonna go back to town and. . . I don't know. I don't know." He sounded so defeated, hollow, like every word spent a few seconds echoing off his insides.

Silas stood up slowly and grabbed a bucket from a cabinet nearby. He filled it with water and soap and grabbed a few rags. Carefully, he washed Eden's hair and face. He took care of his arms and chest, gently, and finished quickly. He made sure to lock the door before completely undressing Eden. After dressing him again, he dumped the water and dried Eden's hair. "Man, we'd really both be lost without you." He set a hand against Eden's forehead, his temperature was high. He checked his breathing again, shallow and uneven, but persistent nonetheless. Silas grabbed a rag and ran it under the faucet. Once it got cold, he wrang it out and folded it. He set it on Eden's head, pushing his bangs away from his face. Finally, he sat next to Eden again. He looked around blankly, glancing anywhere that wasn't at Eden. His eyes landed on a clock, it was a little past noon. "That's a whole day now," he mumbled. He set his face in his hands.

February 10 23xx

Eden had been whimpering for hours straight. Silas tried everything he could to help, but nothing did. As soon as Eden started screaming, Howlan left. It was too much for him.

Silas had whispered reassurances in Eden's ear, held his hand, stroked his face, anything he could think of. Nothing helped. The look of absolute horror on Eden's face was engraved into both of their minds.

When Eden did calm down, he was just idle. His breathing was shallow, slow. His heart rate was normal, but his pulse was weak. Silas wanted to pick Eden up, hold him, hug him. But they wouldn't know what exactly was damaged until Eden woke up, and to move him was far too risky.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault this happened. You were trying to protect me, because I'm weak. And I couldn't get to you in time. I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault." Howlan shut the door behind him. "He's dumb. And he loves you. It's his fault for being stupid, not yours." Howlan knelt next to Eden. "How's he doing?"

"Better, I guess." Silas frowned. "He'll. . . wake up. He will. Right?"

Howlan didn't say anything for a while. "He will. He's stubborn, and I don't think his spine was crushed or anything. His skull should be intact, I think. I can't say that his brain didn't bounce against his skull though. He could be in a full on coma, or dying slowly. He might stop breathing suddenly, or his brain could die, or-"

Silas sniffed. Crying, Howlan realized.

"Oh, no, sorry, I mean, he's probably fine. I'm sure he's fine. He's stubborn, and he has people to get back to. If he wanted to die he'd have given up already. But he's still fighting. He's fighting for his life right now, so the very least we can do is wait, and have a little faith in him. And help keep his body in top shape." Howlan set a hand on Silas' shoulder. "He'll be fine."

"Right." Silas nodded and wiped his face.

February 11 23xx

Eden had spent the first half of the day screaming and begging, and calling for help. Since then, he'd calmed down considerably. He was breathing normally now, his pulse was full. He had even smiled a few times.

"Three days." Silas frowned. "It's been three days. He'll wake up soon, right?"

"I'm sure he will. He's doing better now, he's been smiling." Howlan set a hand on his forehead. "His fever's gone. My theory is that his freakishly high recovery rate is explosively increased when he sleeps."