Treasured

52)

Wren

I slowly came to myself, recognizing several things as my dream state lifted. First, I realized I was lying on something soft and warm. It was a welcome difference to the hard floor Richard had chained me to for days.

Secondly, I recognized Branson's husky tones as he softly sang a slow ballad. Sunlight brightened the room enough for me to see clearly, and I was surprised by my surroundings as I surveyed the bed chamber.

Everything was simple and plain, and I could not understand how it fit with Mr. Eddie's preference. He liked things to be sturdy and to last, that was true. But he also had a sense of style that befitted the rooms in his home.

"Bran?" I weakly whispered.

His eyes flitted to mine, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes seemed tired, yet oddly serene, and I couldn't help but wish I had Cee Cee's talent with a brush. Branson was always so elegantly handsome, so...tantalizingly melancholy and brooding. His aura spoke of danger and mystery, and it drew me in like a moth to the candle. And yet, he also exuded strength and protection, which did not conflict, but rather complimented his disposition.

"Yes, my heart?" Branson replied, gently lifting the back of my hand to his lips.

"I hurt..." I tiredly sighed, voice barely above a whisper.

"I know, my sweet. Richard did quite a bit of damage. The doctor says you are doing much better than he predicted though!" Branson informed me, voice hitching every now and again.

"What is today?" I frowned.

"It is August 27th," Branson scraped out.

I blinked, disoriented. I had come to the Institute in April, and stayed through June, when the berries were in full force. My Aunt took me away in July, and I had to survive a whole month caged in her home. Then my cousin...

My brain ground to a halt, refusing to think about that. I had no notion of time while I had been his prisoner, but I guessed I had been back with the boys for at least a fortnight...

"I know it must be a shock," Branson cleared his throat. "But you were quite ill this past fortnight. Infection, fever, and your injuries made you weak, and we feared for your life."

Branson was not expressive, but I could tell by the thickness of his voice and the glistening in his eyes that he had been through horrors during that time. I knew that seeing someone you love go through hurt and pain was excruciating...and after losing Orion, I could imagine how they would feel when coming into a situation like mine.

Something shifted in his expression, putting me on edge. His brows lowered into a sad frown, lips pulling together into a pout and his body slouching into itself. It was so...opposite of Branson I didn't know what to make of it.

"Wren...Richard broke your leg. We did try to save it, but we were too late..." Branson squeezed my hand.

My heart dropped at his words. My eyes darted to where my leg was, fully expecting to see it's shape beneath the blankets although Branson's words still echoed in my ears.

I began to shake, and small cries and whines fell from my mouth as I saw the emptiness there. The loss hit me with unexpected force, and shock made me tremble uncontrollably. My leg had always caused me pain and inconvenience...but to not have it? It was still a piece of me.

Branson gently climbed onto the bed, wrapping himself around me in such a way that I wasn't hurt. And I realized in that moment, that Branson had done the exact thing I needed him to. I didn't want empty consolation, I didn't want someone to tell me how strong I was, or that I would get through this trial.