Humans Alone (G/T)

Chapter Thirteen

Michael paid close attention to the adult Masonin, and it was clear with each step they took Heath seemed to be growing weaker and weaker. He wanted to cut in, to try and stop him from hurting himself. But what could a single human do against a Masonin? Then again, Heath was a little weaker. Maybe he could get him to lie down. 

He approached the very tall man from behind, and just as he was about to try and tackle him to the ground strong arms shoved him backward and sent him onto his back in the grass. When he looked, Donnie was standing over him with furious eyes. "What do you think you're doing?!" The seventeen-year-old barked, his large hands gripping Michael's shirt and lifting him off the ground in front of his face.

A quiet 'eep' passed Michael's lips as he kicked his legs, staring into the angry teen's face. "I-I want him to lie down! H-He looks exhausted!" Mentally cursing himself, he could hear his voice was higher in pitch from the fear coursing through his body. 

Heath walked over to them, one of his hands covering the bandages on his still bare torso. "Donnie, set the human down. Nice and easy." He looked at his son with one of his brows curved upward, seeing to it that Donnie was careful in lowering Michael to his feet. 

Michael looked at Heath, his breathing slowly steadying itself. "I-I just don't want you to hurt yourself." He said calmly, averting his gaze from both giant beings. 

Watching Michael, a soft smile made its way onto Heath's lips and he very carefully sat in the grass while holding his shotgun wound. "I-I understand perfectly. But I promise you I'm okay Michael." 

"You're not okay Heath!" Michael shouted suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Stop saying you are! I-It's annoying! I want you to be alive when we get to your high council!" 

Heath and Donnie both stared at him, shocked at the human's sudden shouting. While Donnie seemed to be glaring at him, Heath's surprised gaze softened and he chuckled deeply.  "V-Very well Michael. We'll rest here for the night. But keep your voice down, we don't need the members of the Pegasus hearing us." 

Relief washed throughout Michael's body, and he stared into Heath's green serpent eyes with his own normal blue ones. "Thank you." He spoke, letting out a quiet sigh as he fell into the grass in front of Heath. His own wounded leg was aching, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep right there. Considering Heath's face, however, it looked as if they needed to move again before they slept.  But to his surprise, Heath instead pulled a blanket from one of the satchels and handed it to Michael with a gentle smile. "Thanks again," Michael said with a soft, tired sigh. 

"You're welcome." Heath stretched out on his back, staring up at the sky as the sun was still setting, casting red, purple, yellow and orange colors across the blue sky. He could stare forever he felt. 

Glancing at his friend, the Masonin smiled a little as the human was already fast asleep on the grass with the blanket wrapped around him like a cacoon. Heath wants to help the poor man find his daughter, and he means to as soon as all of this is over and taken care of.  This human had no idea what happened to that baby. So he shouldn't have to be punished for it. The girl is only eleven if he remembers correctly. 

Heath lay awake in the grass, only awake because of the way his wound was throbbing in pain. It felt like tiny needles were being jammed into the wound each time he moved. Donnie was asleep a few feet away from him, and Michael too. 

Soft noises caught his attention, and he turned to see Michael tossing and turning in his sleep. His face was contorted in both pain and fear, his hands were gripping chunks of grass he kept pulling from the ground as he seemed to be having some sort of nightmare. He didn't know humans could have nightmares. Perhaps they really were just a smaller race of the Masonin. 

Not entirely sure if the human should be woken, Heath hesitantly reached his hand out and placed a gentle touch on Michael's arm. The smaller male jerked away and let out another noise that sounded fearful. 

"Wake up Michael," Heath whispered, frowning deeply as he grabbed his shoulders in both of his large hands, shaking him as carefully as he could. 

Michael's small blue eyes snapped open and he shouted something unintelligible, but his face was drained of most of its color and his hands were shaking rapidly as he wrung them together. "Wh-What happened?" The black haired male asked, staring at Heath. 

"I think you were having quite the bad dream," Heath replied, taking note of Michael's trembling form. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Well, yes. But also no." Michael used his good arm to reach back and rub his neck, shifting his gaze to the ground under him. "There was just a lot of death and blood, and I don't think I want to ever see that again." 

Nodding his head in understanding, the Masonin curled his large arms around Michal's shaking body. He then hugged the human as gentle as he could, pressing him into his chest without hurting his shotgun wound. 

Michael could feel his face heating up, but he fought it down. He fought strong and hard despite him knowing he was blushing. At least it was dark so Heath couldn't see. Again, he could smell pine in Heath's hair, and he still didn't have a shirt on. But despite the wind chill, Heath's body was warm. 

It was strangely comforting. The strong arms felt safe, secure. And Heath was still so gentle with him despite him being the race Masonin's are supposed to hate. He could only imagine what the high council would be like.