Thrice Upon A Choice

Chapter I

May 19th was the day we had been put together as a team.

On the 30th of November we had escaped Corra.

February 21st, we met Seok at the border.

And Emmy and his band of merry rebels had picked Bastian and I up, broken and bruised, on the morning of February 25th.

It was now the beginnings of the 26th and Bastian and I had woken up on stretchers under a dark green fabric tent. My forearms were so thinks with bandages that I found myself slightly disorientated by them. But other than that a couple of grazes on my side, I had miraculously walked away unharmed. Bastian was able to sit up and function but I saw him wince every time even though he tried to hide it. Three broken ribs, couple of gashes, and a mild concussion were not however, the worst he had sustained. We had both been out for the journey from the crash site to Emmy's camp, and the guys here had given us a reasonable amount of drugs as they had patched us up.

The tent flap was pulled up and I recognised the man from the crash scene.

Emanuel, I corrected myself, Bastian's brother.

"Now, Bastian you great git," He said, waltzing over, "I've been meaning to ask how in hell's gates you landed yourself with this stunning lady."

My cheeks burned with what I presumed was some sort of compliment.

"I thought you were long gone, Em," Bas said, subconsciously stroking his injured ribs.

"What?" Emanuel pulled over a chair and threw himself into it, "You think I'd run back to find my Ma?"

"It's what you said you were going to do."

Emanuel clicked his tongue, "I've always thought you were too serious, Basil--"

"Basil?"

Emanuel glanced over at me, "Old nickname, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that."

Emmy looked at me curiously, "Why?"

"Because it's more than a little condescending."

He shrugged, "She's a smart one, Basil. That leads me back onto my question. Why is she even tolerating you?"

"What? You think I'm that bad? Emmy you are literally here being a condescending asshole," Bastian smirked and Emanuel laughed.

"I'm so sorry. What's your name, cousin?"

"Aspen," I told him, "Aspen So."

"Like the weed?"

Bastian scoffed, "Emmy, you were called Ugly until the age of four when Dad decided you needed a name."

"Now that's bullshit, Bastian! Ma named me and you know it."

"Didn't stop Dad calling you Ugly."

"He was wrong. I'm more like Ma. You got all of Dad's ugly ass genes."

"Pfft, and that's why I'm the one sitting here next to my girlfriend," Bastian said, the word striking me, but I forced myself not to react.

"I have a girlfriend," Emmy said, unconvincingly, "She was just so completely overwhelmed with my handsome looks and quick wit, that she was forced to leave me and turn gay."

"Gah," came a voice from the tent opening, "I hope to God you aren't talking about me, Gunners."

Emmy looked back at us with a cocky grin, "Aspen So, Basil, I'd like to introduce you to Andrea Vans-De-Lame."