The Strength of Ten

Rest and Recovery

A/N: Sorry that this is so short... It's kinda hard to manage 2 stories at once... I suppose that my own fault... -.- Oh well... Anyway, enjoy... if its possible to enjoy such a lame piece... Sorry to all those reading this! ;(

Disclaimer once again: Do I even need to say this??? I am not Pittacus Lore...

After managing to buy a truck with one of Henri’s fake ICs, they drove to Nine’s rooftop mansion in Chicago, which chanced to be nearby. They needed a place to rest and train in peace, after all. When they reached, John left the amazed group wowing over Nine’s palatial home to lay the still unconscious Six on one of the guest bedrooms to rest. He himself had healed her injuries, but he suspected physical injuries weren’t what caused her to be in this state now. It had something to do with that painful memory he saw etched into her face during battle. As he laid her down to rest, he felt a sharp, searing pain in his lower torso. He groaned and sat heavily down on one of the chairs in the room, shocked at the unexpected pain. When Marina came in later to check on Six, she saw John sitting in one corner, clutching his lower torso.

“What’s wrong?” After all, she was the injury expert as she had her healing Legacy the longest. “Not sure.” Four grunted. “Pain started up as soon as the adrenaline wore off.” Seven frowned and pressed a hand to his dagger wound, probing the injured area. Then she shook her head and sighed. “I honestly don’t understand how you didn’t felt the pain, Four. You realise you have at least two broken ribs? They probably shattered on impact with the dagger.”

Four sighed, exasperated with himself. “Can you heal them? I’ll probably stop halfway from the pain of the bones mending themselves.” Seven placed her hands on the scar, feeling the icy tingle down her spine. John’s face turned white and he bit down hard enough on his lip to make it bleed in an effort not to scream as his ribs kneaded themselves together.

“There. Done. But you’d better rest up. It’s not fully healed. I just did all I could. Anyway, I’d better go check on Nine and Eight. You may be the most injured out of all of us, but the rest are in a pretty bad shape as well.” Marina stood and left the room. Four stood wearily and made his way to Six’s bedside. He dragged a chair over and sat down, gripping Six’s hand. Before he knew it, he fell asleep, Six’s hand pressed to his cheek.

Out in the living room of Nine’s sky palace, Marina entered only to see Nine slumped on a couch, blood dripping from the long deep gash up his arm. Eight was collapsed on the floor, his shirt shredded to pieces, allowing Marina to see the horrific burn on his chest due to Mog cannon fire. Ella was by Nine’s side, trying frantically to stop the bleeding while Bernie Kosar had wandered into the room where Four and Six were recovering, to check on his precious master.

Marina decided to attend to Eight first, seeing as Nine would probably hold out longer with Ella staunching the bleeding. She ran up to Eight, her hands pressing against the burn. Again she felt the familiar tingling rushing down her spine to her fingers, soothing the ragged, burnt skin and slowly returning it to its usual copper tone. After Eight’s breathing eased and his body lost some of its tension, Marina headed over to Nine, pressing her fingers to his wound. Even though Nine’s injury wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the others, it had been caused by a Mog sword, and those were potentially lethal. Slowly but surely, the edges of the wound closed up, fusing together to repair the wound, leaving nothing but a barely noticeable thin white scratch.

Seven heaved a sigh of relief and sunk into the nearest armchair, drained from using her Legacy so much in such a short period of time. Soon, her eyelids drooped and she fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of life on Lorien.

Ok... That was sucky... Sorry all!