"Absolutely Not."

Chapter 19: Anxiety

Simon stared hopelessly back at me, blood seeping through between his fingers as he tried to staunch the bullet wound on his shoulder. A chunk of his skull mask had been broken off leaving half of his face revealed to the elements, remnants of war dirtying his face alongside the smeared eyeblack. Pained, his grip tightened on his wound, and yet I couldn't move.

"Kelsey..." He uttered out, teeth stained crimson.

He stumbled closer to me as I remained frozen in my spot. My feet grew roots and embedded my body into the ground where I could only watch him struggle.

A medley of iron and fire filled the field, a concoction of fatal deception. Orange and yellow bloomed from the center of his chest and made quick work of the rest of his upper body, engulfing him.

As soon as the piercing screams reached my ears, my body jolted awake, and I sat up in a bed that was not in the middle of a bloody battleground.

Nausea gagged me as soon as my eyes adjusted to reality, the dark colors of the bunk becoming clear as I hunched over the side of the mattress. Relieved that nothing came up for me to clean, I mumbled my hushed apologies to whomever I might've woken up before padding out of the barracks with my heart still hammering against my chest.

The events of him dying before me had happened a bit differently. I'd run instead of solidifying with the earth, and the smell of charred flesh hadn't graced my nostrils that strongly. But I could never shake the memory of the fire eating away perfect skin.

It'd felt too real, though, that dream. It left me almost forgetful and needing a reminder that he was truly alive.

Breathless and barefoot, I made a beeline down the dark hall to where I could possibly find the main character of my nightmares. The cold tile beneath my feet helped shiver me awake, and the thought of turning back to put on shoes temporarily poked through, making me stumble through the darkness a bit more.

The shoes weren't important. I had to find him, see for myself that the flames had died and that he hadn't. I had to make sure everything that had happened this past week hadn't been a dream.

When approaching his room, I noticed the door was slightly ajar. Without bothering to knock, I pushed the door open the rest of the way, my voice cracking with anxiety as I softly called out his name.

Only the dim glow of his lamp lighting the empty room welcomed me. His sheets were bundled on one side of his bed, clearly torn off of him in a hasty retreat. Nobody occupied the chair by his desk, and the shower wasn't running.

And yet when my brain saw no sign of Simon, it thought the worst:

Something bad had happened.

Something terrible must have happened, and I needed to find him immediately.

Turning to try and relocate him, I quickly glanced down both sides of the halls, wondering where the hell he must have gone. Deciding on the kitchen first, I went there next.

Maybe he wanted some tea in the middle of the night, not a rare occurrence by all means. After all, it was a common way for us to find alone time before... well, before. With everyone asleep and the night's atmosphere giving the scene a bit of intimacy that had made my heart flutter as our voices came through as soft whispers and our night musings were of small details of ourselves mixed with dreams of a better future, it was something I had taken for granted thinking back upon it.

No insomniac Simon occupied the kitchen, either. The kettle wasn't even warm and neither were any of the stove's eyes. Not a single drop of water lingered in the sink from a possible rinse, flushing out the tea from the mug that did sit on the counter by the kettle. That was dry, too. No sign to be seen of Simon's whereabouts here, either.

Dread filled my chest, and I took a deep breath to try and calm myself.

Something's happened.

He's fine, I reminded myself. He's a grown-ass man and can take care of himself.

Hands gripping my hips, I wondered where else he could have possibly gone this late.

But what if- I interrupted myself mid-theory.

He's fine. Just find him so you can go to bed with a clear mind.

Think, Kelsey, think.

The gym?

I speedily walked my sweatpants-attired ass all the way to the other side of the base, thankful that it was the middle of the night so no one could witness me running around like a headless chicken.

Not a soul met me as I burst into the dark gym. No sounds of quick feet sprinting against the treadmill nor fists pounding relentlessly into a punching bag filled the air. No one else's restlessness was kicking their asses.

Where the fuck was he, though?

With a frustrated sigh, I closed yet another door behind me. Had I simply gone without him long enough to have that connection severed to where I could easily find him, or was he not wanting to be found?

Or had he found a new spot I had not been aware of yet?

My brain felt like it was still in the gym, going for a run on one of the treadmills as it galloped at the highest speed, making me chase and stumble over a single, rational thought.

Uneasiness joined the nausea that lingered from the nightmare. While I knew, I knew, that nothing unfortunate had happened, it was the dream that poured the bitter-tasting apprehension on my dry tongue.

'WHAT IF-'

Circling back to his room to see if he had made his way back in the time that I'd covered half the base chasing after him, I found the door to be closed. I didn't close it when I'd left.

All reason had been long by now, and I barged right on in.