"Don't strain yourself," Ethan muttered, wrapping an arm about Riley's back and gently gripping her by one forearm to help her up.
The going was slow, Riley's every movement seemingly tortured out of her, but eventually she was sitting up at the edge of the bed. Her breath came out in ragged gasps, and one hand clutched gingerly at the wound in her side, wincing as fingertips brushed against the bandage.
"Ready to get up?" He asked after pausing to let Riley collect herself, eyes mixed with equal parts care and uncertainty as he investigated her.
She let out a noise between her teeth that seemed to signify that she had no idea if she was ready. She felt weak. Weak from her body spending all its energy on healing the wound and weak from spending so much time in bed. It was dizzying just sitting on the edge of the bed, but Riley gritted her teeth and took a few deep breaths.
It became clear to her now, if it hadn't been before, that when you stood up from a seated position, you did indeed use the muscles in your stomach. Riley tried not to. Her hand found the fabric of Ethan's clothes when she grabbed at his shoulder. She was thankful for his arm around her back and eventually she stood. Hunched, but standing up. It was as if the room spun around her. When she tried to breathe deeply, it was as if there was no oxygen in the air and it took a few seconds before the dizziness stopped. Her feet were cold, but she pushed that to the back of her mind.
"I feel so weak." She said, annoyed. "I need to eat. And I need to change. I…" She tugged at her shirt. "Stink." Riley said with disgust and glanced at Ethan. Then she chuckled but soon regretted it as it sent waves of pain through her. "Ow, ow." Her brows furrowed. "Okay… No laughing."
"In your defence," Ethan said as he helped her across the bedroom floor and over to the stairwell. "You were just knocked out for half a week in what amounts to your own blood and sweat."
He kept his tone as light as he could, though the elation in his words was plain to Riley. They reached the stairs and began to descend one tortuous step at a time, the creaks of the steps drawn out as Riley lightly stepped and applied her weight before moving the next foot into position. Once they arrived at the base of the landing, they were both overheated at the exertion, sweat forming along their brows, breathing heavy.
"Let's start you off with some food - I can fetch you water in the buckets we found a few weeks back," Ethan muttered, half to Riley half to himself as if to verbalize his train of thought. "We can boil it, get it hot, and see if the tub upstairs'll work at all. No sense in cartin' you off to the lake in your state."
She nodded. Speaking required too much breath. Descending the stairs left her breathless and sweating and dizzy. With Ethan's help, she got to the table and sat down gently and slowly. Supporting herself on the tabletop, she focused on regaining her breath, taking in air through the nose and breathing out through her mouth. Riley sat like that for a few minutes until the dizziness wore off. It was frustrating that something as simple as going down the stairs left her so weak.
"Thank you. A warm bath would be lovely. I'm already cold." Riley said and flashed Ethan the briefest of smiles. Halfway down the stairs she had already felt the cold seep into her body. She knew it was because she was weak. Sitting with nothing but her tank top and wearing no pants, and with her body spending all its energy on healing the stab wound in her side, it shouldn't be surprising that she was already cold.
Dizziness abating, Riley turned her face up and to the side to look at Ethan, realizing that she had only been thinking of herself. He had spent the last couple of days alone, he had been the one to patch her up and to dispose of the bodies of their assailants. She felt bad for not asking sooner. "How are you? Are you okay?" Riley automatically reached out her hand toward him.
"I'm better now," Ethan remarked flatly, eyes sulking to the floor as he lit the fire and fetched leftover broth stored in a sealed jar. "It was…"
He hesitated, words caught on the tip of his tongue.
"It brought me back to a place I never wanted to go again," he said through gritted teeth, relaxing as he reflexively took Riley's hand in his own for a moment. "I'm… I'm just glad you woke up."
He let Riley's fingers slip through his own and busied himself with the broth, heating it over the fire before pouring it from the pot into a small blow. A moment later the bowl was laid before Riley along with a worn spoon and bit of cloth they used in lieu of proper napkins. Ethan seated himself opposite her, and it was only then did the sustained exhaustion of the past days collapse down on him with as much force as a pallet of bricks laid atop his shoulders. The weight pulled down at him, and his eyes stared blankly at the worn wooden countertop. Idly his fingernail scratched at a divet in the wood as Riley sipped away at the broth, unsure what else to say as his mind cast aside any words that might have offered themselves to disrupt the silence.
She let the spoon drop and sit in the broth as she looked at him. The few sips she had swallowed had been warm and lovely and it felt wonderful to eat. Even so, she felt a knot form in her stomach. Riley watched Ethan for a few moments and realized now that this was not just worry over your friend, or whatever they were, being wounded and hurt. This was a worry that seemed to hold a greater power over him and to run much deeper. It tugged on memories that she guessed he had done his very best to eradicate.
"I'm sorry, I…" Riley tried, though she didn't know what to say. She hadn't been awake, so it was difficult to be sorry for something out of her control. At the same time, she felt bad for not being there. She knew it was not her fault, though. "I'm here now, though. I'm up. I'll be a bit useless for a while and you'll have to help me, but…" She fell silent.
The side she was seeing of Ethan was relatively new to her. Riley was unsure of how to approach him. After sipping more broth, she carefully leaned back against the chair. "Did it remind you of… before?" Before being the span of time that covered their time before Haven and way back before the fall of everything.
"A bit," he admitted after a long pause, eyes fixated on the wafting steam rising from Riley's bowl. "Only, before Haven I'd never been to a place like that before. That dark, lonely. The world was still somewhat normal - I still had a car with a tank of gas. It was more… violent the first time, more painful and…"
Ethan hesitated.
"But only because nothing would be the same - I knew it then, and rather than face it, I lost myself for a bit like I told you. This time was different. This time I wasn't losing my apartment or my job or even a fucking bed to sleep in I… I was going to lose you, and I'm not sure if I'm losing myself for even thinkin' it but I think that would be worse."
For a good while she sat and stared at him, unsure of what to say. Again. When the stinging sensation in her eyes made it impossible to keep looking at him, Riley looked down at her hands. She sniffled and wiped away one tear that had managed to spill down her cheek. She wasn't sure why she cried. There were several reasons. One of them relief. The rest were largely Ethan's emotions reflected in herself, if she had to guess.
When she looked up again, she gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. Then she planted her hands on the table and pushed herself to a standing position. Her legs felt so weak that, had it not been for the table, she was sure she would have fallen over. Riley took careful steps and supported herself against the table but tried to move fast enough so Ethan would not have time to interrupt. Finally, she made it to the other side of the table and gently sat herself down in the chair at his side. Catching her breath, she carefully reached out and took his hand. She was still silent. There was a darkness in Ethan that she wasn't used to. A dark pool in his mind that she had only touched the surface of. Riley didn't want to let him sink further into it. She then put her hand on his cheek and made him turn to face her and soon she could rest her forehead against his. Her thumb traced his cheek. Then she sighed.
"I can't promise you that things will get better. You know that." She began, hating that she had to admit it. "But I promise you that I'll be with you every step of this journey, wherever it takes us." And whenever it ends. She didn't have to say it. The truth was, that she had been close to dying and she could never promise him that it wouldn't happen again. The mere thought of losing Ethan was too much for her to even consider at the moment, so she didn't. "We're alive. We'll survive. We persevere."