Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ For Want of a Nail ❯ Chapter 6 ( Chapter 6 )

Chapter 6

John struggled with his blankets as he tossed and turned, giving an occasional groan in his sleep. He finally gasped awake and sat up in bed, sheets twisted around him, hair plastered down with sweat. He ran his hand through his damp hair and took a deep breath.

John knew he must have had some sort of nightmare, but it was already lost in the haze that was his mind. It was the same frustrating haze that stole his memory.

He glanced up towards the window and noted that the sun was probably just coming up since the curtains seemed to give a light glow. He scanned the room only to find himself alone. He wished that Sarah was there to chase away the ominous darkness that surrounded him, save for the window.

John untangled himself from his bedspread and stripped off his hank-top and drawstring pants that somehow twisted up in an uncomfortable fashion about his legs. Both were damp and made him feel hot. He straitened the blankets that were strewn about his bed and floor then went back under the covers to try to get more sleep.

Although John didn't do any strenuous activities, he was still recovering and in need of more rest. He ended up staring at the ceiling for quite a while trying to remember his nightmare. After that endeavor proved fruitless his thoughts went to Sarah. He gave a faint smile.

'She's kind and patient,' he thought. He chuckled to himself when he thought the word 'patient' because it brought up her threatening to remove his boxers for him. 'Yeah, very patient.'

His smile faded. Although he couldn't explain it, he felt as though he had been lonely before. He tried to push away the depressing thought, but when that didn't work he knew he needed to fill that void in his heart as well as the void in his mind.

With that final thought he went back into a restless sleep.

Sarah was walking to John's room. She had gotten up early that morning, as was the usual, to check on the patients. She got embarrassed at some of their comments about how she and John had looked at each other throughout dinner. She didn't think it was that obvious, but she was happy to know that John seemed to share the same feelings.

'Wait. What feelings?' Sarah asked herself as she stopped dead in her tracks. 'C'mon! Don't kid yourself! You have a crush on HIM! No I don't! Yes you do! This has to be serious. You're a young woman now and there must be something you see in him if you have a crush on him at this age. I haven't had a crush on anyone since fourth grade! Exactly my point!'

"This is ridiculous! I'm battling myself in my head! Wait a minute. I'm talking to myself now. This is bad," Sarah mumbled humorously to herself.

By this point she was at John's door and knocked before entering. She walked toward the window, but midway almost tripped on something soft and damp. She stepped over whatever it was and opened the curtains. Bright sunlight streamed in and lit up the room.

Sarah turned towards the rest of the room and saw that the 'soft and damp' thing was John's sleeping garments.

'He must have gotten terribly sweaty last night,' Sarah thought.

Just then she heard a moan. She looked at John and saw that his sheets were twisted up around him and had failed to cover his bare chest and a leg. He did not have a peaceful look on his face as many adopt in their sleep either. She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"John, wake up!"

He did not wake up immediately, but when he did he blinked and squinted in the light that streaked across his room and sat up. His bare skin that did not get covered by comforters was cold except where Sarah had her hand placed.

"Sarah?" he asked when he looked up into her face.

"Yes, it's me. Are you all right? Did you have a nightmare?" a concerned Sarah asked.

"Yes, I think so. I can't remember any of it though. I'm a bit cold."

Sarah rubbed his left arm to warm it up a little and said, "You are cold. Just a sec while I pull out some clothes for you."

She left his side and went to the closet. She opened it and pulled out dark evergreen colored pants and a thick long-sleeved shirt that was colored somewhere between Prussian and sky blue. Sarah laid these out on the end of the bed. She pulled out her scissors from her apron and started to cut off the right sleeve.

After she finished, her eyebrows suddenly raised.

"What?" asked John.

"I just remembered something. I'll be right back!" Sarah replied as she ran out the door.

John raised a single silver eyebrow.

A few minutes later Sarah was back and now holding something that was cerulean blue.

"They're new boxers. Nobody's worn them yet. I'm pretty sure you would want to change your underwear," she explained.

His cheeks glowed a little as he mumbled "Thanks" to her when she handed him the undergarment.

"Do you think you can stand without swaying?" asked Sarah.

"I think so. I don't feel sore or dizzy," he replied.

"Well, we'll just see about that soon enough. Get up."

John stood up off the bed and sure enough he did not sway and seemed steady on his feet.

"I'll be right outside the door. I want you to get dressed. After that we'll make your bed then we'll go down to get breakfast. I'm starving!"

John nodded at Sarah who then left the room and closed the door. A few minutes passed and she wondered if he was having any trouble changing. At that moment the door opened. John was dressed and had made the bed. Sarah looked at the bed, mildly surprised. It was made military style and was smooth and sharp enough to bounce a coin off of it.

"Is something wrong?" John asked when he saw that Sarah seemed to be staring at his bed.

"Not at all. It's just that you made your bed military style. When they brought you in we did suspect you were in the Zaibach military because of the uniform jacket that was around your waist. Most of our casualties were peasants from the energist quarries, there were a few from the military. I just didn't think you would remember things from it. I guess it's part of your physical response. You don't actually remember how something is done, but your body does," Sarah explained.

John nodded in understanding. He hadn't really thought about it. He just went and made his bed. Then he had a sudden idea.

"Do you think that maybe if I did something familiar physically that it would trigger something and I would remember?"

"I'm not sure. You're going to have to ask my mom about that. She's the doctor around here. I just take care of some patients."

Sarah could see he needed cheering up, but she didn't know how.

John and Sarah sat across each other, eating their breakfast. There weren't very many people in the dining room since most were still sleeping. So they had a relatively quiet breakfast.

From time to time they would glance at each other when not mechanically eating their food.

"You know. This is an unnatural hour to be awake at," started John.

"I wholeheartedly agree. We weren't meant to be up at five AM in the morning. Unfortunately, my mother doesn't agree."

"When am I going to meet her?"

"Actually after we're done eating breakfast."

John looked down at his plate and realised that he had already finished everything. Sarah was already up and putting her plate away and tanking Aunt Rena. John followed Sarah's example and they were soon walking down the hall to meet Sarah's mother.

John started to feel nervous. He didn't know why since he hardly knew anything about her.

The young adults were now at the office. Sarah knocked, then opened the door. It was the usual scene: messy stacks of papers decorated the desk, a few heavy books left open, and her mother hidden behind it all.

Even after living like this for years Sarah only had a vague notion as to what all those papers were for. Perhaps bills, or reports on patients? All she knew for sure was that her mother knew what it was and she didn't have to do it.

At this point her mother noticed them standing in the doorway.

"Come in," she said pleasantly. The two noticed her tired smile.

She pushed back her chair as she stood up and came to John with an outstretched hand. "Nice to finally meet you awake."

John awkwardly took her right hand with his left.

"Uh, well, yes. Good morning," greeted John.

Sarah's mother had a slight distant look. John's gentle touch reminded her of Sarah's father: Tall and gentle. She could tell he was amiable at one point. There was something sad about him though.

The two young adults became a little worried since the older woman was staring into space. She had a soft expression. John could also see where Sarah got her smile.

Suddenly she snapped out of her reverie and looked up.

"I'm sorry if I worried you. I was just thinking. My name is Berin Ravenelious."

"…?" said John.

"People call me Doctor Raven to make it easy, or if they're my friends, Doc Berin," she explained.

"Oh…"

"Well, anyways, please take a seat. How are you feeling?"

John shifted in the sturdy padded chair he had sat in and replied, "Fine."

"Sarah told me about your bout of phantom pain," Berin said as she walked back to her seat behind her desk and settle back in. "Have you felt it again?"

"No. It was just yesterday evening."

"Have you felt discomfort of any kind since then?"

"Well…"

There was a long pause and Berin was about to encourage him to continue when John suddenly started speaking again.

"…I may have had a nightmare. I woke up once and I was very hot and sweaty."

During the long pause John had debated with himself of whether or not he should tell them of his loneliness. He had decided not to since it would be more embarrassing than telling them he had a nightmare.

"Do you remember your nightmare?" Berin asked gently.

"Nothing other than it was dark."

Both Sarah and Berin felt something amiss. He was leaving something out. Perhaps he's nervous.

"Might there be anything else?" Sarah asked softly.

John became a little agitated, but then he felt reassurance from Sarah's light touch on his arm. Berin noticed the soft light enter his eyes from contact with her daughter.

She gave him an understanding smile when she finally figured out that his real discomfort at the moment was loneliness.

"I think I've interrogated you enough already," the doctor chuckled, "Let's work out your schedule."

John was relieved, but noticed Doctor Raven's knowing look. Why did everyone but him and Sarah seem to know something? They all seemed to smile a little. It wasn't hostile, but he wanted to know what they knew.

Sarah's mother came up with this schedule:

6:45 AM Wake-up

7:00 Breakfast

8:00 Exercise

9:00 Bathe

9:30 Free time

12:00 PM Lunch

5:00 Dinner

9:00 Bed time

"Now. That's only the preliminary schedule. When you feel up to it you're going to go look for a job so you have your own spending money to do with as you like. I'm not going to charge you anything to stay here. You may stay as long as you wish. The war has taken its toll. Besides, I wouldn't have the heart to push a young man like you into the streets," Dr. Raven gave him a grin. "We can't let you become a bum."

John gave a small chuckle and nodded in agreement.

"Well, I guess that's…oh, wait! I almost forgot!"

Sarah and John looked at Berin with some confusion as the elder woman rummaged through her desk drawer.

"Here it is!" The doctor exclaimed holding up a brass key. She walked over to a locker beside a file cabinet in the corner behind her desk. She inserted the key into the lock and it opened with a 'click'. She opened the door and reached into the locker.

Meanwhile John and Sarah were still sitting and were looking at Dr. Raven's back since her body was blocking their view of the locker. She finally faced them and was holding a hefty looking sword in its elaborately scrolled scabbard. She set it down on her desk and put a five-inch piece of metal down beside it.

John stared at these objects. He picked up the piece of metal and studied it. It was apparent that this was a tip of a sword that had broken off.

The scar on his chest throbbed slightly.

He carefully set the piece of metal down back on the desk and observed the detailed scrolling on the scabbard. He finally picked up the heavy sword. As he held it he felt that he was accustomed to its weight, which was strange because he couldn't remember being in possession of this sword. But then again he couldn't remember anything.

John was about to set the sword back down on the desk when an intense pain flashed through his head. Black spots and white sparks hindered his vision. He dropped the sword and its scabbard with a clatter and cradled his head with his hands.

"John!" shouted Sarah, "What's wrong?"

But John didn't hear this as he was preoccupied with a headache and fragmentary images that flashed quickly through his mind.

A raven-haired boy with burnt sienna brown eyes. A green-eyed girl with a boyish hair cut. A pale and gaunt old man with long white hair and beard. A spurt of green fluid. A shroud of black feathers.

As quickly as it came it left him. John was left trying to remember the images and guess what they had to do with him.

"John?"

He looked up at Sarah who had knelt down in front of him and drew in a shaky breath.

"I… I'm alright," he said, failing to convince mother and daughter.

"Back to bed you go! Rest up. I wish you weren't so pale, then I wouldn't have a hard time telling if you're sick or not. Oh, well," said Berin. She was beside him now and picked up the heavy sword. "This sword must've been yours since it came with you. Did you see anything?"

"NO!" he shouted as he slammed his fist down on the desk before him. His face was contorted in frustration.

Sarah carefully put a hand on his tense shoulder. His head was bowed and he was breathing heavily.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Sarah lightly rubbed his back and stood up beside him.

"It's okay, I know it must be frustrating for you," Berin softly said, "Now, off to bed you go."

John nodded and was led out by Sarah.

They quietly and slowly walked back to John's room. Sarah pulled back the covers on his bed and gave him a light shove toward it. She was about to leave his side to close the curtains when a large hand on her arm stopped her.

Sarah looked down inquiringly at John. He felt that a reason was probably required and scrambled mentally to put his concerns into words.

"I have been in the dark for so long. I was always in the dark. That is what I can remember. It feels good to see light again, to know I'm not trapped in the darkness again. The light lets me know this is reality, not some dream," John struggled for more words. He wasn't sure if Sarah understood.

"I understand. Don't worry, this is all real."

John looked up at Sarah who then stroked his cheek gently then slid her arms around him and gave him a hug. He hesitantly brought his left arm up and hugged her back.

"C'mon! You have two arms! Use them," commanded Sarah lightheartedly.

John reluctantly obeyed and now had both his arms around her in a loose embrace. They both let go a couple seconds later and Sarah pulled up the chair to sit by John as he lay down.

He briefly wondered if Sarah needed to check on anyone else since there were other people in this house. He hoped she didn't.

They simultaneously yawned.

Sarah smiled and said, "Man, we must still be tired."

John nodded in agreement, "Yes, but I'm already in bed. Perhaps you need a nap as well."

"Nah. Besides, once I wake up in the morning, I can't fall back asleep."

There was a long silence. John couldn't really go to sleep and Sarah really had nothing else to do.

She started humming a tune. It was a little jaunty yet sort of melancholy.

Through John's mind flashed a picture of a willowy woman with black hair that flowed all the way down to the floor. A tall man, also black haired with a mustache and growing a beard, stood beside her. Both dressed in rich clothing, both with loving, gentle faces.

'Mother?' a foreign voice in his mind suggested.

'Folken…'

"Huh?" John said, as he was startled out of his dream/vision.

"John? Are you okay? You blanked out on me again," a very concerned voice said.

"Sarah? Sorry about that. Where did you learn that tune?"

Sarah looked confused at his seemingly sudden change of subjects.

"In Fanelia. Father took me with him a couple times on his business trips. That tune was a folk song from there. Why? Does it sound familiar?"

"I'm not sure. I think it triggered a memory of sorts, but I can't remember what it was anymore," he said dolefully.

"Come with me if you're not tired. My father's study is filled with books, maybe we can find a couple on Fanelia and it might spark something in your mind."

John gave an affirmative nod and rose out of bed Sarah caught up his hand and led him out of his room to her deceased father's study in excitement. They came up to the door in a quiet corner of this house/hospital. Sarah released John's hand and opened the door slowly. The door did not creak, as it was not that many months that its owner has left.

John noted the thin film of dust that coated the furniture and wooden floor. He hadn't asked Sarah about herself so he didn't know much about her family. All he knew was her mother and that she mentioned her father briefly saying "my father's study". Her father was either on another business trip or perhaps dead. He looked down at her as she scanned the room silently.

"So, what does your father do?" he asked gently.

"He is…was… a merchant and scholar," was her reply. She seemed to be fascinated by a spot near his feet.

"What happened?" he again prodded gently.

"The war happened!" Sarah's voice almost cracked and she tried to control herself.

There was a silence. John was unsure of what to do and opted to rub her back as she had done for him earlier. He felt her shudder under his human hand.

Sarah was struggling with herself to not let her tears break free of her eyes. The wound was still fresh and she had spent many nights silently crying, wetting her face and pillow with her tears. She hated to cry in front of others. It had been years since anyone had seen her cry.

Her sorrow was too great, and a tear leaked past her defenses, followed by another and another. Soon she gave out quiet gaspy sobs.

John was slightly surprised, but didn't let it show as he gathered the shuddering form of Sarah in his arms and sat them down on a leather couch by the door he had closed. He leaned back into the couch with Sarah and let her cry into his chest with his arms still wrapped around her body. He had arranged her so that she was sitting in his lap with her legs tucked under her. He rubbed her back in circles then her right upper arm, which was facing outwards, then simply hugged her with his left hand cradling her head to his chest and slowly rocked. He rested his right cheek on her head and continued rocking.

With a shaky and muffled voice Sarah started talking.

"M-my father was forced into the military since he was an able body. We knew something was going to happen since we've heard stories of men being collected for the military. Then, maybe three months ago or so, we heard that a mysterious force had destroyed Fanelia without any warning. Burned up. It was rumored that a few days later an Asturian outpost in the swamps met the same fate. Before we knew it, a war was going on and my father was out there somewhere serving the military involuntarily. They didn't let us know where he was sent. We couldn't send any letters. He promised he would write to us everyday, but we never did receive anything. He never broke his promises so the military probably didn't let him send letters," at this point she sounded bitter them drew in a shaky breath a to calm herself. "We were informed that a flying fortress had been damaged heavily and dropped into the ocean. They said he was on it. There were no survivors."

John had stopped rocking when she had started her story and now was quietly contemplating it. The part about the fortress felt familiar. Sarah was wiping her face with her hands, trying to rub away any traces of her tears, but her eyes were still red and a little puffy. John pulled his head back and looked at her face.

"Do you feel better?" he asked.

Sarah nodded, her eyes downcast and said, "Thank you."

They just sat there a moment until Sarah slid out of his lap to sit beside him, her face flushed with embarrassment. John caught on to her blush and realized that they had been in a slightly compromising position. Since Sarah was now looking at her hands that were resting in her lap she missed seeing John's cheeks redden. His metal arm was still on her with his hand resting on her hip. He didn't feel her through his arm, but then realizing that his arm was still there tried to extract it from behind her.

Sarah became aware of this and sat up to let his arm free.

"I'm sorry I started crying and made you listen to all that…" she started saying.

"No. It's okay. Sometimes you just need to cry to feel better."

'You're such a nice guy,' she thought.

"Well," she started as she gently scrubbed her eyes and cheeks one last time, "let's start looking for those books."

They got up off the couch. The room was dim and shadowed since they had not lit any lamps. Sarah went up to a tall thin lamp that was furthest away from the window and turned a small knob with a 'click' under a black funnel. A white-blue flame leapt out from the funnel shaped lamp and lit up that side of the room.

"Father kept his things organized, unlike Mother. We should be able to find what we're looking for in that book case," she pointed at a simple looking, yellow-brown, tall bookcase.

They searched the shelves to find that it seemed to be dedicated to books on foreign countries and in alphabetical order.

"F, F, F…ah. Here it is," proclaimed Sarah. "Books on Fanelia's history, economics history, and genealogy on the royal family."

"Do any of these books have pictures?"

"We'll find out soon enough."

She pulled out the three books and led him to her father's desk where she pulled up an extra chair. She blew the dust off the desk then set the books down. They sat down and she opened the history book. They looked at pictures and maps of Fanelia.

John looked at these with interest as there were few pictures or illustrations on this book as it was mostly text. The few pictures with landscapes in them seemed familiar.

The economic book only had graphs for illustrations, so they spent only a couple minutes flipping through that to make sure they didn't miss anything.

The first picture in the Fanelian royal family genealogy book was a crude drawing of a man with black hair on his head and a beard. In captions it explained that he was believed to be the first king of Fanelia by rite of dragon slaying.

In his mind a little black haired boy with a cherubic face was looking up at him saying it was mean to kill a dragon. John blinked and the scene was gone. He shook his head and continued looking through the book.

Sarah gasped and John stared in shock. They were at the final picture in the book. It was of the most recent royal family of Fanelia. The picture was at least ten years old.

The known facts about this family: King Goau de Fanel was deceased. The four or five year old in the picture was none other than Van Slanzar de Fanel who was the current king of Fanelia.

Queen Varie was presumed dead, as she had never returned from her search of her eldest son who did not return from his quest to slay a dragon to become king. That prince was Folken Lacour de Fanel. He had a gentle smile in the family portrait. He was fifteen or sixteen in this portrait and he was almost identical to John, save his age.

Author's Notes: I wanted the characters in my story to be three dimensional and I hope I've done an okay job, but I find myself doubting Sarah's actions or thoughts. She's supposed to be 24, but I wonder if the way I wrote her makes her sound too young, like her thoughts. It's hard to think what someone in their twenties would think since I'm only 17. Am I doing an okay job?

I shudder at the whole sappy business of the crying thing. *Shudders* The first picture they see in the genealogy book was supposed to be the one from that book that Folken was reading to Van in a flashback.

Anyways, please REVIEW!