Believe in Me

Wind Steps In

I admit, this isnt as good of a chapter as I wanted it to be at all. Really tired, so it's short and much less detailed but... hopefully its well enough. Hope you enjoyed reading it, thank you so much for everything, and have a good night. 

She covered her eyes, squeezing them shut behind her tightly pressed fingers. Despite how badly she didn’t want to look weak, she felt more afraid than she ever had, building off of the fear and sadness that she had gained when she saw Grey that time when she was with Jack, when he had attacked her… now she had no clue where he was, where Jack or Tooth were, now she was no doubt going to be brought past what someone would need to die. But then again, she couldn’t die could she, not without Grey… she would suffer forever, just like the humans and animals in the world surrounding were. But the footsteps weren’t quick and storming like Chaos’ angry form’s had been, they were quick, but soft to the floor, nearly silent.
She didn’t peek through the small gap between her tiny fingers until she felt a slight swish of wind from something crouching in front of her, hearing a very familiar, quiet panting from in front. Her heart nearly stopped… was he better? He sounded better, but there was only one way to find out… Ilia opened her eyes, the bright green orbs shining slightly with the glistening of aged tears as her hands slowly lowered down. She was right… In front of her was Grey, the real Grey, not the monster that had possessed him, his expression dull as always but his eyes flickering with more concern than she was used to seeing out of him, his lips slightly parted with the heaviness of his breath; he must have been running to get there. “Grey,” she questioned slightly, reaching her fingers through the bars but trusting that it was him, he was in his right mind. He sighed in relief before focusing his blood red irises flickering downwards to focus on the padlock holding the cage door together. The crescent piece of metal holding the crate shut was much thicker than he had expected, apparently Chaos assumed something like this could possibly happen even through his thick skull. The chains Grey had broken before were thinner, plus he had the strength that hadn’t quite faded away from turning into the monster. Now that strength was completely dormant once more, he was just the reaper once again, this would be more of a challenge. “Are you hurt..?” Ilia heard him mutter quietly, his focus less directed on his words than his thoughts, his eyes narrowing slightly in concentration as he worked quickly but effortfully with the lock. She looked down, unsure on how to respond. She figured that she was alright, at least from Chaos, but she had a feeling that wasn’t what Grey meant. “I’m… just fine. Not hurt at all,” she replied, giving a weak but positive smile. She wasn’t going to bring guilt on him… he wasn’t the monster, that was someone else. She had no reason to be afraid of him, and he had no reason to feel bad for something he couldn’t have controlled… so she lied. She was surprised that the tear in her clothing, the bloodstains, didn’t catch his notice, but he was too concentrated. Past that, he seemed almost weary in a way, weakened but refusing to speak on it. “Good,” he mumbled, even quieter than before as his hands slowly slipped from the lock that refused to unclick. It didn’t take a key, neither that or a combination, just a big, thick lock. Maybe Chaos had put her in there with no intention of ever taking her out.. that was a scary thought. Ilia looked up at the raven haired man silently, nervously. His face was blank… hardened into a look of emptiness that he had seemed to have strengthened once again… but his eyes shone as they always did with the thoughts that passed through his heavily working mind, confusion, frustration… he couldn’t figure out how to get her out of there. Still though, he didn’t step away, didn’t leave to find the answer. There was a few more seconds of fidgeting with the lock, the bars of the cage, even trying to tear them off though to no avail… before the creaking of the doorway sounded once more behind him. Death’s eyes widened for a split second before he was suddenly risen to his feet, movements quick, strong and graceful once more, an alertly cautious glare etching into what had made the noise. What stood before them wasn’t Chaos returning though… it was the wind boy.
Ilia had never seen him before, didn’t recognize him, but Grey took immediate note of the baby blue strands that fell over his eyes, the eyes almost white with how light they were… the sadness etched almost like a stain on a paper into his pale, young expression. He didn’t step forward, just stood in place, holding a tension in the room so strong that the caged girl could feel it pressing the already warped metal in a little tighter, feeling herself draw back into the nervous state. Who was this boy? He only seemed a little older than her, a little younger than Jack… and he looked nowhere near evil. If anything, he looked like he was about to cry, his hands loose and limp at his sides yet strained and tight with anxiety of his own. Grey didn’t move, guarding Ilia despite having no weapon to fight with. All was silent… pure silence. Who this boy was and why he had come, Ilia had no clue, but the way Death was acting, the defense he had immidiatally put up, proved as much as anything could that he wasn’t someone they wanted to be around. The silence continued, long and drawn, the roof seemed to feel much more hung, like the air was floating, hovering stronger around them than before. Then the boy shook.
It was a small shake, the tiniest of shivers accompanied by the smallest of choked sounds. He turned his head, but Ilia quickly grew sympathetic, her bright eyes flickering as her head tilted slightly towards him. He didn’t LOOK bad, honestly whoever he was, he looked like he was about to fall flat apart. His arms shook slightly, but Grey didn’t fall to the same sympathy as the nature spirit did, his glance blank, void of any emotion. He was probably used to this by now, seeing tears was part of his job. Ilia was somewhat surprised that he had any care left at all after the things he had to see, to be a part of, to be called. Now was all the more proof. The silence continued on for a moment longer… before a quiet, boyish voice whispered like a breeze over them, soft but shaky with the sound of what was no doubt sadness. “I want to go back…” He trembled. Ilia didn’t understand and, from what she could see, neither did Death, but they both stayed silent… waiting. “I want to be cared about… I want to help Jack…” he shook more, his voice so heavily tearstricken now that it was barely audible, but so heavy hearted, so pained and hurt that it was no doubt genuine. “I’m really sorry,” he continued, bowing his head and reaching out a trembling hand. Something formed into his loose fist, materializing steadily fast until it was made out. A long black handle, a slick, curved silver blade on the end… Grey’s scythe. The reaper was frozen for a few seconds longer, though it was now less in protection and more in plain surprise before he slowly stepped forward and reached out his hand. The boy transferred it quickly, pulling his hand away right after and crossing his thin, sleeve covered arms over his chest. “Please help Jack, please don’t leave him… I miss him, I don’t want him to hurt, please…” the final word was an apology before he couldn’t hold back anymore, the wind spirit finally losing his calm, heavy tears streaking quickly down his cheeks and a quiet cry rushing from his pale lips before he vanished. Ilia was just as paused as Grey seemed to be. He’d probably be hurt badly for going against Pitch, and without Jack, the Wind had nowhere to go but stay in the lair and wait to be punished… but even after all of that he went to Grey, who he didn’t even know would accept, and put all his faith that he could possibly make up for abandoning Jack… Grey had been planning to leave, wanted to go. Now that he had his scythe he could easily break Ilia out of the bars, the blade was sharper than the rusted metal she was cooped in by far and, with enough effort, could be cracked well enough. But now… He sighed once more, rubbing his eyes. The weakness was back. He couldn’t believe how much he wanted to help this boy, a boy who had just watched as all of this unfolded, taken part in some of the disasters that were caused on the world, but as he turned back to help Ilia out of the cage, he felt a new goal coming to mind… “Let’s go,” he whispered under his breath. The small girl nodded, looking down at the metal crate’s flooring beneath her. “…To help Jack.”