Hatter's Revenge (rewriting - read at own risk)

Ch. 15: The Prodigals

By the end of the second day, Mad was miserable. Any exposed skin had been sunburned so he was a patchwork of red and white thanks to the holes in his shirt.

He had been poked so many times getting through the vegetation, making some parts of his hands raw to the point that they wouldn't stop bleeding.

Mad didn't even want to think about his back. It hurt constantly now, and he swore he could feel each and every stitch. It was inflamed and burned with an internal heat he knew was a bad sign. They had run out of the numbing gel plant earlier this morning and it didn't grow this far in-land.

Killian wasn't much better. He was sunburned too, had the same problem Mad did with the plants and, just because that didn't seem to be enough, he'd managed to twist his ankle, tearing up the skin on his hands sliding down a hill of loose, slate-like rock.

All of that on top of about three hours of sleep apiece and even less water, which was now completely gone.

The sun was starting to sink and they were both stumbling.

Mad had insisted on helping Killian walk, half carrying him to try and spare the injured ankle. He wanted to scream each time Killian's weight rested on his shoulders, his arm brushing some of the Jabberwock scratch.

"Wait, stop. Stop here," Killian gasped and Mad helped him sit on a low rock. He swore when Mad accidentally bumped his ankle.

"Why are we stopping?" Mad asked before sitting gingerly next to the Spade.

"I recognize this," Killian said, breathing had. "We're there. The tunnel is just over this hill, more or less." 

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming up." Mad squinted against the sun beating unmercifully down on them.

"But you're not gonna like how we have to get there." Killian grimaced and the movement caused the skin on his lips to crack, a little blood beading there.

Mad closed his eyes briefly. "Jabberwock?"

The kid nodded, wincing when the burnt skin of his neck rubbed against the collar of his shirt. "Yeah. We gotta go through the valley again."

"Well," Mad sighed, "hell."

Killian was listing to the side a little and muttered, "I would just take the long way around, but I don't think I've got it in me."

"Maybe you aren't as stupid as I thought," he muttered.

Killian laughed, then said, "We need to get it done."

"Okay."

Neither of them moved and now Mad laughed. "Maybe we just give it a minute?"

"That's the smartest thing I've heard you say," Killian said, his words slurring a little.

Mad's eyes started to droop and knew he was about done in. "Killian."

No answer.

"Killian, we've got to move." He looked over to find Killian had fallen asleep. Mad reached out to him but overbalanced, falling to the side himself.

He lay there, just breathing in and out, neaely choking on the scorching air. He was tired. Bone deep tired. Not just from these past two days but from everything. They were just the last straw.

It was the same kind of tired he'd felt after coming back home from the war.

'Mad,' Gene's voice whispered. 'Mad, you gotta get up.'

Mad closed his eyes.

'No, Mad.' Gene's voice was a little louder. 'Not okay, lay down. Okay, get up.'