Marcid

Forty-Eight - Raymond

The numb, yet throbbing pain on the left side of his forehead made Raymond wake up. He had little recollection of what had happened before he passed out. He can always jog his memory. He remembers talking about something with Konrad, then Ophelia. He remembered the worry and guilt that overwhelmed his head because it still did. Someone had been following them. A soldier? Someone from the lab. Obviously. He felt stupid for thinking about it twice. He tried to protect the two younger ones. He must have been hit one too many times in the head. That was obvious. He could feel the blood pouring down from the side of his head, and the tree bark poking at him through his shirt. Raymond opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sun. He lifted his hand to cover his eyes. "Raymond?" A young voice called out. Konrad, perhaps. Ophelia was doing something with her abilities: freezing leaves, and then crushing them. She did it repeatedly until she noticed Konrad moving. Konrad stepped closer to Raymond, kneeling down in front of him. His right sleeve was torn off. He pressed a partially cold rag against the wound, making Raymond recoil back immediately. "Stay still, you're still bleeding. I thought you died." Konrad muttered the last part with a hidden tone of relief. Raymond winced and flinched at the cold rag. It felt nice, in its own way. It had been hot throughout the whole journey. A cold rag felt like heaven at the moment.

"Where'd you get the rag, kid?" Raymond commented.

"It's my sleeve." Konrad applied more pressure onto the wound. It stung terribly. The pain could make him pass out again. "It's hot outside, anyway." He paused, slightly pulling the torn sleeve away. Konrad looked at Ophelia. Raymond frowned. He looked at him with a glint of confusion. "Can you make it a bit colder? Please." He gestured the torn sleeve towards Ophelia. She nodded, taking the sleeve. Her hands slightly shook as ice layered over one-third of the sleeve. She handed it back to Konrad. Konrad folded the sleeve to hold the not cold part, pressing it against the wound again. Raymond flinched and shifted back.

"Jesus, kid." He heaved. "Go a bit easy with the pressure, yeah?" Konrad nodded and attempted to go a bit lighter with the pressure. He made no difference, though Raymond decided to endure the pain. He wanted to know what else had happened. "What happened when I passed out, kid? Did that guy hurt you?" He stiffened at the thought. He could have done better to protect them. He could have gone longer awake, couldn't he? Konrad had a subconscious frown form on his lips. He shrugged, applying more pressure onto the wound. Raymond flinched. His brows furrowed at the sight. He didn't understand what Konrad was getting so upset for. Something bad happened? Did the soldier get away? "Kid. I have to know what happened," Raymond grunted. Ophelia turned her head to the two men. She mostly stared at Konrad, a sliver of worry evident. It only made Raymond's curiosity grow stronger. "Did he hurt you or not?"

Konrad hesitated, looking up at Raymond. "Would you be mad if I told you?"

"Tell me what? Did he hurt you? Where?" Raymond sat up slightly, the headache making his movement a bit slow. He felt more dizzy by simply sitting up. Konrad and Ophelia shook their heads. That gave him some relief. They didn't get hurt. Then what? "What happened?" He could still detect the reluctance inside of Konrad. "You can tell me, kiddo. I won't get mad."

"Do you promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

Konrad warily nods, clearing his throat. Sweat droplets beaded down from his temple. The uncomfortably hot weather was impacting everyone. Not Raymond at the moment. He was being gifted a very cold rag to his forehead. The cold slithered down his body like a waterfall. "I may, or may not have—" He cut himself off. Konrad was still hesitating to say it. Raymond stared, patiently waiting for Konrad to finish his sentence. "Killed him." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Come again?"

"I may, or may not have killed the 'guy' that we were talking about." Konrad nervously stared, gauging Raymond's reactions. "On accident." Raymond had little idea of what to say. Konrad killed somebody. Was he lying? Was it really on purpose, or was he telling the truth? He could tell that Konrad and Ophelia were still shook up on what had happened. Very shook up. Konrad pressed the cold rag against the wound once again, still observantly staring at Raymond. Raymond didn't say anything, though his brows were furrowed in either confusion or perhaps he was still processing the young man's words. He didn't know himself. He could somewhat understand that Konrad could kill someone. Without touching them. It was his power, wasn't it? He didn't even think to remember. The pounding headache made Raymond feel as if his muscles were convulsing violently, which stressed him more. He somewhat nodded, a wary smile turning his lips. He had little to say. He wasn't mad. He couldn't be. "You said that you wouldn't be mad." Konrad frowned.

"No, kid, I'm not—I'm just processing all of this." He paused, looking back at Ophelia, who was still freezing little leaves and then crushing them. "When did this happen?" He took his attention back to Konrad. Ophelia shifted uncomfortably. She had been kneeling on both knees for God knows how long. She sat down properly, huffing. She looked down at the small pile of crushed leaves in front of her. Konrad looked at her, his eyes narrowing down at the pile. He cleared his throat once more, shaking his head.

"A little after you passed out—"

"Seconds after." Ophelia interrupted. She fiddled with the strings of her hoodie. Raymond noticed that her nails had grown, though they looked very brittle. Her skin looked dry, as well. He nodded, staring at the trees behind Konrad. They had been in the woods for days, without any food or water. Or even a bath. The lingering odor on everybody made it obvious. Konrad grunted softly. His grip on the rag tightened slightly, as did the pressure. "Jesus, kid. Lower the pressure." Raymond censured, shifting his head away from the cold rag. It was warming up again. It was better than nothing—he wouldn't complain. Konrad clenched his jaw, shifting to sit up on his knees. He pulled the rag away, giving it to Ophelia. She frowned and applied more coldness to it, then handing it back. Konrad's expression formed into nothing. Raymond couldn't find a sliver of emotion inside other than visible guilt and the aftershock of his actions. "It wasn't your fault, kid. You do know that, don't you? It wasn't your fault," he attempted to persuade. "You didn't mean to."

Konrad stared, his eyes meeting a flicker of uncertainty. "What if I did?"

(note:: sorry for the short chapter. i am feeling unmotivated 2day. happy valentine's day)