Wren, Jesse, Fletcher, Simon, and Jennifer chased after the falcon swooping and diving between the trees of Everett's back woods. The early April air nipped at the tips of their ears and noses, but no one cared about that just now. The bird always stayed a few yards ahead of them, his frantic pattern of flight indicating something urgent. None of them had needed to communicate to know what it was. Jack.
In the first bit of time after the furby incident they figured he'd just needed his space and would come back when he was ready. But the hours turned into days, the days into weeks, and the weeks into a month. They'd searched every square inch of the town for any sign of their missing piece but to no avail. That was when his falcon Marsh had swooped in, circling the house frantically and calling out until he'd gotten their attention. Even Jesse had come out of his retreat of silence to help. He may still have been angry with Jack and the trust he'd begun to build with him may have been shattered, but the fact remained that he might be in trouble. His feelings could wait.
The gang tore through the woods after the bird, leaping over fallen tree trunks and ducking under low hanging branches. Finally Marsh brought them to a halt. They looked around but Jack was nowhere to be found. They all exchanged questioning glances. Why had they stopped?
"Over there!" Wren exclaimed suddenly. The rest followed where she pointed to a tree not too far off. Beneath it, the silhouette of a man sat slumped against its trunk. He was still. Eerily still. Marsh flew over and lighted down next to him.
"Jack," Jesse murmured.
The five hurried over to where he sat. He looked so frail—his already pale skin almost a sickly grey and his skeletal frame revealing the sickening possibility that he hadn't eaten in days at least. His normally somewhat kept facial hair was growing much wilder and his hair draped over his shoulders, out of its typical ponytail. Various bugs crawled across his clothes. He didn't even look up as they approached. How long had he been there?
"Oh gosh," Fletcher squeaked. His face had gone white at as a sheet. "You don't think he's—?"
Jesse dropped to his knees beside Jack, putting two fingers against his wrist and an ear to his chest. He waited a few tense moments. Finally he could feel it. The faint rhythm of a pulse. It was weak and unsteady, but it was there.
"He's alive," Jesse said. "But barely. We need to get him out of this cold. I'll get his arms."
"I'll grab his legs," Wren chimed in.
"Great. Fletcher, grab his staff. Jennifer, Simon, you're our supports."
The group wasted no time in getting into position and lifting Jack off the ground. As they lifted him a quibble of woodlice were sent scurrying from beneath where Jack had been sitting, frantic to find a new place of shelter. The five moved as quickly as they could back the way they came, trying to be as delicate with Jack as possible.
"Fletcher, call an ambulance," Jesse said. "Have them meet us at—"
"No don't!" Simon interjected.
"What? Why? He's dying."
"Jack's afraid of hospitals," Wren explained. "We'll lose him again if he wakes up there."
Jesse sighed. He didn't want Jack in his vicinity while he tried to sort his feelings out but he wasn't sure how much of a scare the guy could take in his fragile condition. It wasn't looking like they had another option.
"Alright," he said hesitantly. "Home base it is then."
Back at his house, the gang managed to get Jack settled into bed. Wren and Simon wasted no time in trying to get their friend off death's doorstep. They set to work, using every rhyme they knew could help him recover until finally after a few days they managed to get him into a much more stable condition. One day, Wren sat across from him, a plate of food beside her, waiting for him to wake up. She stared intently at him, hardly blinking, turning the starfire stone over in her hand. They'd done everything else in their power to speed up Jack's recovery. She knew she could make it much quicker. She could take needless suffering out of the equation. All she needed was some stardust. She slowly reached into her pocket for the pouch that contained the source of her magic.
"Wren?" Simon's gentle voice broke through her thoughts.
"Hm?" She looked up to find him standing in the doorway.
Simon eased himself off the wooden frame and entered the room, pulling up one of the chairs they'd brought into the room earlier and seating himself next to her. "What's going on in there?" He asked. "Your mind, I mean."
Wren chuckled lightly at his clarification before answering. "Nothing, I suppose." She tried not to betray her thoughts, but she couldn't help casting a glance down at the stone hidden in her hand. Simon followed her gaze with a sinking feeling. He was worried things would come to this. He didn't need her to tell him what she was holding. He had a pretty strong guess. "I don't suppose it would have anything to do with the starfire stone in your hand, would it?"
Wren didn't answer. A guilty look came over her face. Busted.
"Wren—" Simon started.
"I could help him, Simon," She explained quickly. "I could make his recovery go faster. He wouldn't have to go through all this."
"You've already helped him. You've done so much. You brought him back from the brink of death! Not many people can do that."
"It's not enough." Wren set her jaw. "Not when I could be doing more."
"Wren, please." Simon took her hand in his, trying to meet her gaze. "It hasn't even been a month since you last woke."
"I don't care."
Simon continued to try reasoning with her. How could he get her to see she was holding unreasonable standards for herself?
"Using a powerful force like that so much, it—it can't be good for you," he said. "I'm...worried about you. Ever since we brought Jack back from the woods it's been pulling teeth—metaphorically speaking, of course—trying to get you even just to rest. You're running yourself ragged, I can see it. I watch it get worse every day, and I can't take it anymore." He reached out for her far hand, and took hold of what she held. "Please, don't use that stone. And if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me."
Wren finally looked over at him. She looked like she wanted to argue but after opening and closing her mouth a few times she let out a defeated sigh.
"Let me make myself clear," She said. "I'm doing this for you. For now I'll hold off, but if there's any sign of trouble, there will be no further discussion about it, ok?"
"I understand, dear." Simon replied. "Now please. Take a break. Go get something to eat and get some rest. I'll watch Jack in the meantime."
Wren was about to object, but Simon was already a step ahead. In a moment he had her lifted to her feet and was escorting her out of the room, a reassuring smile playing on his lips despite her protests. He ushered her out the door and then quickly shut it before she could turn back around.
"I love you!" He called sheepishly, feeling a sense of guilt for taking over so abruptly. He listened as, after a few moments, her footsteps could be heard crossing the hardwood floor. He sighed and settled back into his chair, a deep sadness seeping into his heart. She hadn't relented from using the starfire stone because of her own physical limits, but only to appease him. How could he make her see? How could he get her to understand that it was okay to think about herself for just once? He was beginning to think he never would. The hard truth was that it was up to her to believe it. No matter what he told her, his words would fall on deaf ears until she came to realize it all for herself. He sighed as he looked over at Jack. He shifted and stirred in his bed but stayed asleep. For everyone's sake, he hoped he would recover soon.
