What Remains

Chapter 19

Lost In The Abyss
No sleep for the innocent

My hair unfurls from behind my head as I shift to look to the side. It's another dark, gloomy day outside with rain pattering on the window. Dripping down the glass until it's gone. A low sigh draws from my mouth. I'm not quite ready to wake up yet, but not tired enough to send myself back to sleep. I decide to indulge in the latter and sit up; perhaps I can nap easier later if I keep myself on the cusp of being painfully tired. These rainy days have been getting tiring. I find myself hoping for even a slight split of sunlight to force its way through the clouds, oddly enough. I thought I liked this kind of cloudy weather... well, maybe not. I can't remember.
An inner debate suddenly occurs within me; should I risk getting up on my own again, or should I wait for Kenny? I hate having to adjust to his schedule, but...
I bury my face in my hands with a groan.
It's the only kind of consistency I have. I should keep with it if I want to maintain my sanity— or, anything of myself. Otherwise I'd sleep my identity away. I should wait for him before trying anything.
My gut tells me it should be around the time where Kenny wakes up to come and make sure I'm still kicking. Then again, he always tends to be here only moments after I wake up, as if he was here already. With all of those hallways in the walls, I wouldn't be surprised if that genuinely was the case (If I have retained anything prior to being in this place, I'd actually be triumphant over being right).
After tousling my fingers in between the strands of my hair, I release my likely reddened face and look up again. I half-expected to see him there, and for a moment, I did. Nothing. Nothing but the wind whistling as it bats against the exterior walls.
Bats... I wonder if this house has bats—
The door to my room abruptly opens, and I damn near jump right out of bed.
Kenny shuts the door behind himself, then looks at me. It's the first time in a while that I've seen that glint of courage in his eyes. Kind of like a flicker of hope. He mumbles something I can't hear, then 'ums' to himself. "I... had an idea." He manages.
I ponder for a moment, then decide to humour him by speaking. "I'm listening." I reply curtly.
He stands still for a moment, as if rethinking his idea. Then, when he finally pulls that courage from his eyes to his brain, he walks beside me and fixes the rope off my wrist. "I want to help you walk."
Maybe it's my impatience, or the fact that I'm tired of being bedridden, but the second his hesitant hand holds out for mine, I take it swiftly. That seems to spur on his bravery, as he grabs my other hand on his own terms and '1—2—3' hauls me up.
A quick wheeze-like breath tumbles from my mouth, but I grit my teeth to stifle it from getting louder.
When I look up, I realize that my effort was completely useless.
"We don't have to—"
"I'm fine."
There's an awkward pause as Kenny tenses. He takes a deep breath, then nods. It seems this is scarier for him than it is for me.
I decide to speak, which this time I'm sure it's because of impatience. "...Were you thinking step-by-step, or something else?" I ask with what I hope is a calm tone.
He does that thing where he stares at me blankly while he thinks. "That works. Just let me—" He takes a few steps back. He's still holding onto my hands, there's just a bigger distance between us now. "There. Whenever you're ready."
I nod, inhale, then exhale. My good foot lifts, plants down. Fine. My bad leg lifts, and it's like twenty tiny little daggers shoot through my skin to the bone. I grunt and let the weight fall loose, which was an even worse idea. My foot collapses onto the floor, then my leg, and nearly the rest of me had Kenny not just caught me. My look of awkward gratitude is instinctual, before I remember it's him who rendered me like this. He shouldn't get my gratitude. I cast my gaze down.
"Slowly, Quinn," My name sounds unfamiliar on his tongue. I lean onto him as he pulls us both back up.
I steady, then start with my bad foot.
Determination should be a sin.
I successfully take a step at the cost of being sent into vomit-worthy pain. My entire body starts trembling out of my control and my fingers claw into Kenny's clothed arms. I think he's reassuring me or something, but I can't hear it through the beating of my own heart in my ears.
"Quinn?"
I force myself to support my weight with my bad leg.
"Quinn."
I've almost got it—
"VALENTINE!"
A shiver courses up my body, then suddenly I'm on the ground. My brows furrow slightly. Huh?
And here's the pain I forgot about.
I cry out like a stupid, useless animal before Kenny lifts me up. To feel so small and helpless isn't for me. Disgustingly not.
"Shit. SHIT! Fuck— fucking leg!" I sputter out as many curses as my mouth will allow me too between pained breaths. "Oh, fuck,"
"Are you alright?" Kenny asks in his gentle, doting tone. Patronizing?
I scowl. "Does it look like—" My voice cuts off before I can cuss him out too. I give a defeated sigh as I simply sit back down on the bed. "Why did you have to do this to me?"
He thinks for a moment; it's not hard to tell he doesn't want to answer. "You would've kept going." He answers almost sadly... and hesitantly. There has to be more reason than that. If he's still keeping shit from me, despite EVERYTHING we've been through together—
"Breaking my leg was too far!" That perfectly timed pain flutters in like a bad aftershock.
Kenny starts fidgeting, which is never a good sign.
"After you tried to stab my heart?" His offense is clear. I hope mine is too.
I chuckle in disbelief. "After you tortured my friend to death in front of my fucking eyes?" My fingers twitch beside my thighs as they grip the blankets harder. "We can keep going back and forth like this."
Kenny narrows his eyes at me, sizing me up as if he's the intimidated one. "I thought you were stronger than this; I didn't think you would let him get into your head."
My mouth falls agape. What the fuck? "Excuse me? What the hell is wrong with you?" I exclaim. The second I blink I seem to appear standing upright. I'm standing tall on both my legs despite the pain wracking my body... shaking me to my core. "I don't know if you remember, but I actually liked these people— sometimes humans have emotions." I hate the way I sound sarcastic. I always do this in arguments.
"Sometimes I wish you didn't have any."
Silence. Kenny regrets his words only seconds after with an evidently surprised look.
Fury. Utter Fury. "Why? Is it because you're jealous that I can feel?" I shout, I bare my teeth, "Or is it just too much for you? Can you not handle being human? Can you not handle being normal?" I snicker at that idiot look of confusion on him. "I'm not your 'dream victim'. I won't bend to your will. Not anymore." My tone lowers with my last sentence. Knowing him, I won't be able to get through that fucking thick skull of his.
Kenny is silent as he stares at me, like an empty husk. He takes an almost full step back.
"You're wishing that you could break my other leg too, aren't you? Have me all to yourself so you can train me like some dog?" I take a step forward.

Tethered together by an invisible string.

Kenny comes back to his senses, blinking rapidly before staring down at me. But... there's no anger. Just hurt. "You don't understand— I did it for you." He glances at my bruised and battered leg.
I scoff. "All of this pain, only for my own good. I doubt that." I cross my arms tightly.
"You need to sit down, you're putting too much pressure—"
"Make me, I dare you." I hiss.
Kenny pauses, eyeing me down for a moment before he starts up again like a rusted car engine. "Why must you spite me at every turn?" He yells, "Every little thing I do, I do for YOU. I find YOU food, I find YOU clothes, I give YOU a home where YOU are safe and secure—"
"You can hardly call this a home." I spit.
He looks down at his hands as they slowly crumple up into tight fists. "I kill for you. I live for you!
"Are you seriously that stupid to think that you're living for me?" I scoff again. "Honestly—"
Kenny shoves me down by my shoulders to sit on the bed, but oddly enough, he's... gentle. He gets down on one knee in front of me and holds up my injured leg (to which I seethe) in his two large hands. "It's too dangerous out there for you, so I had to save you!" He holds the leg up to my view...
Reminding me of how he condemned me to this fate;
Of how he is going to hell, and dragging me down with him.
Funny how I thought I was in control of that.
"Hurt me all you want, scream, hit, kick..." Kenny lets go of my calf slowly, guiding it back down. He's nearly crying. Kenny? Kenny never cries. It's so unfamiliar to me. I can't do anything but watch out of astonishment.
"I am here for you, Quinn," He insists solemnly, "You don't need to keep trying to run away." He takes a low, trembling breath. "Just let me take care of you. I need to keep you safe. I need to protect you."
Then, in an instant, he recollects himself and looks up at me. I can only stare at him wide-eyed, unsure of what to do.
I don't even get the time to think about it. He answers for me, and embraces me so, so tight. His masked face digs so hard into my rib cage it hurts, but I can't find the words to object. I can't find any words. Even my mind has gone silent other than my little voice in my head. One of my hands slowly comes up to rest in his hair. The other hand soon follows after and wraps around his shoulder to hold him close.
A lone tear drips down from my cheek, onto the top of his head.