The Differents | ✓

F O R T Y - O N E

"Sniper, are you hurt? Answer me." I pried his hands off my own and rolled him onto his back. His eyes were wide and he was breathing quickly. I slapped his face lightly. "Answer me!"

He scrunched up his face as he moved his arm to his jacket and tapped it. A new wave of fear washed over me as I kneeled over him and unzipped it. Pulling it off of him, that fear was confirmed when I saw a dark red patch slowly spreading across the fabric of his shirt.

"No, no, no," I mumbled, frantically trying to remember any of the first aid lessons I had taken. "No, no, this can't be happening."

Sniper scrunched up his face in pain again. I could hear his breathing becoming thinner, see his hands shaking. I ripped off the bottom of my shirt and tried to stem the flow of blood with it, but there was becoming too much and the shirt was barely doing anything. I could feel myself crying by that point, the tears making my vision blurry and the blood making my hands slippery.

I wiped my eyes, most likely smearing blood on my face, and looked at Sniper. He looked scared and in pain but he managed to muster a small smile. "I'll be okay," he told me quietly. "I'm scared but I'll be okay, okay? You don't have to worry."

"No, no, no you're not going to die. You can't. Not after we've gotten this far. Don't do it," I sobbed. "Please."

He brought a shaking hand to rest on the side of my face. I held it there, smudging blood on it too. "I'm afraid I don't have a say in this," he said softly, "but I'm glad I got to feel what it's like to completely be free before we got to where we are now."

I made a sound that was somewhere between choking and sobbing and leaned forward, letting my head fall against him. "Don't go. We can go back to the Masks and they can heal you. I'm sure they can."

I could tell how much effort it took him to tilt my head so that I was looking at him. "Remember yesterday when you talked some sense into me when I was scared of not finding anything? Well it's my turn. Listen to me. Are you listening?"

His voice was becoming quieter with every sentence. I wiped the tears away from my eyes and tried to focus. "I'm listening."

"I don't want to die, but that's what the world has chosen to happen, okay? You can't imagine how much I want to stay here, with you, but that's not what has been decided for me." He winced as the train went over a series of bumps. Catching his breath, he turned his gaze back to me. "Can I ask that you do something for me? When I'm gone?"

I nodded.

"Can you make a difference for me? It doesn't have to be huge. It can be just one person. But we've gotten this far and... and I think all this effort deserves to pay off... somehow." His breathing was becoming so shallow and his words so quiet that I had to lean in closer to hear him.

"I will. I'm gonna find that city and I'm going to make a difference, okay?" I said, holding his hands tightly and trying as hard as I could not to cry in front of him.

"Okay," he whispered. "Thank you."

"Thank you for listening to me and staying with me, even at the Core," I said, feeling the need to say something else, something to make it hurt less.

He smiled weakly. "I'm going to close my eyes now, okay?"

"Okay," I replied, my voice shaking.

He closed his eyes and I held his face until I could no longer feel his chest rising and falling, or hear the rasping of his breaths. I don't know how long stayed like that, holding him and sobbing, most likely messing up his clothes and his face by smudging it with his blood.

I don't know whether it was minutes or hours later, but when the train slowed to a stop -- maybe it was for a break for whoever was running the train -- I looked out of the compartment to see we had stopped in a field of mostly red and blue wildflowers. I choked back another wave of tears as they reminded me of the two colours Sniper was able to see, and, turning to him, decided it would be nice if he could at least rest somewhere beautiful.

I stripped him of his jacket, boots, and backpack, and carried him as gently as I could into the field. I set him down a good distance away from the train and arranged his limbs into a comfortable position. After a moment of hesitation, I took a handful of the flowers and covered the bloodstain on his shirt with them, so that he almost appeared as if he were just sleeping. I stayed a moment longer to say a silent goodbye to him and gave him a light kiss on the forehead before heading back to the train. I couldn't see him from the compartment, but I knew he was there and I hoped he was peaceful, wherever he was.

The next amount of time I spent in a daze. I had left our bags and his clothes on the floor where they were, and had crawled into a corner and hugged my knees to my chest. I felt too numb to cry anymore, and even if I didn't feel numb, I don't think I had any tears left to cry. All I kept thinking about was watching the life slowly drain from him, and how all I could do was kneel over him, completely powerless. Maybe if I had run to the train earlier, or if I had let him go first. Maybe if I had shot the Mask when I had the chance, then would he still be here?

Hypothetical questions, with unattainable answers.

It must have been hours before the train came to a stop again. I vaguely remember grabbing the bags and clothes and hiding behind some crates. My will to do anything had been stripped away. If the Masks want me, then let them have me, I thought. Why don't they just strip away all that's left of my humanity while they're at it?

I don't remember much after I heard the doors of the compartment close. I think I might have been lifted into the air and transferred to another place, but the darkness that the compartment enveloped me in combined with the complete numbness of my feelings discouraged me to do anything other than lose consciousness.

I woke up after what seemed like ages, feeling drained and horrible. My eyes were sore and the pain from my leg and shoulder almost made me black out again. From outside, I heard a screeching noise and vaguely thought that maybe the train or boat or whatever vessel I was in was coming to a stop.

Then the door of the compartment opened and all I saw were glistening towers and glass.

And a boy, with his hand on the door, staring right at me.