Her body was splayed across the bed, a huge bruise covering her eye and a stream of blood coming from her nose. Remnants of her purple gown had been torn to bits, strewn around her. The only thing covering her was a sheet and Marcus could see the hand-shaped bruising formed on her pale, delicate skin. Marcus cried out in agony.
“God, no...”
Taking off his jacket, Marcus tried to wrap her tightly without touching her bruises. Her eyes were tightly shut, one eyes completely swollen from the beating she'd taken.
As gently as he could, Marcus lifted her broken body from the bed, stepping over the inebriated pirate to make his way up the stairs. He prayed no one would try and stop him. God help me, he thought. He knew his anger would not allow him to control himself if someone got in his way.
Marcus carried her body off the dock, feeling the shallow shudder of her breathing. At least she's alive, he thought, then cursed himself. What kind of life would that be?
He knew Kira would be devastated, heart-broken once she remembered this night. He felt his eyebrows furrowing with emotion as he thought about what this would do to her.
Weaving his way through the streets, Marcus tried to hurry, worried that her injuries were more serious than he knew. Reaching a little house on a small, quiet street, Marcus slipped in the door.
“Malcolm...Malcolm!”
Emerging from the back in a nightcap and gown, Malcolm looked sleepy and disoriented. He carried a lamp with him, illuminating the humble front room that contained a table and a cupboard.
“It's Kira.”
Malcolm's eyes widened at the sight of a bruised and bloodied Kira. “Oh goodness, no. How did this happen?” The older man was visibly distraught, the first signs of tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.
“Pirate.” Marcus spat, almost as if he were cursing. Malcolm headed back down the hall and then returned fully clothed. “I'll get the doctor. You can put her in the bed in the back.”
As Malcolm slipped out, Marcus gingerly carried Kira's limp body into the only room in the little house. It contained a humble bed and a small desk in the corner. Carefully, Marcus laid Kira on the bed, wrapping her in the rough coverlet. He felt emotion begin to overtake him as he looked at her unconscious face, her skin swollen with red and purple marks.
“I swear to you, Kira...” His voice broke with emotion. “I swear to you I will do whatever it takes to avenge you. I will do whatever it takes to help make you better.”
Soon, he heard Malcolm return with the doctor. The two sailors hovered close by as he inspected her, checking for broken bones and other wounds. Soon, he was shooing them both out for the sake of her privacy.
Malcolm and Marcus sat in the hall, time seeming to stretch on endlessly. I'll do whatever it takes, Marcus thought. Whatever it takes to fix this. Whatever it takes to fix what I've broken.
Marcus felt a bitter sense of hopelessness overcome him. Do you really think you can come back from this? Do you really think she could ever love you again? You fed her to the wolves.
“Captain...are you alright?”
Malcolm's voice broke through the haze and Marcus looked up to find the warmth of a hot tear racing down his cheek. “What have I done, Malcolm? What have I done?”
* * *
Long after the doctor had gone, Marcus found himself wide awake, standing watch over Kira's room. He slept in the floor, a couple of make-shift blankets forming a temporary bed.
Malcolm had been kind enough to make a pallet in the front room, but Marcus wondered if the older man had managed to get any sleep either.
The doctor had confirmed Marcus' fears. Kira had been badly wounded, several of her ribs broken and he'd hinted that internal injuries were probable. Kira would need to be in bed for several months in order to recover.
Marcus tried to push away the grief he felt. He'd wanted to rescue her. From the first moment he'd laid eyes on her in that dirty little street, he'd felt the undeniable urge to take her in his arms and offer her his protection. Now, he had failed bitterly. The one thing Kira deserved to have, safety, had been ripped from her completely.
He tried restlessly to get some sleep, but his mind continued to race for many hours. Eventually, as morning started to seep in, he gave in to exhaustion.
* * *
It was late morning when Marcus woke. Memories of the night before hit him like a ton of bricks and he jumped up to check on Kira. She seemed to be resting, the purple spot on her eye spreading across her face. Whatever it took to nurse her back to health, he knew he would do it. He just prayed she would wake up.
Malcolm stuck his head in quietly. “I'm going to make soup.”
Marcus nodded, grateful for the calming presence of the even-headed sailor. He knew Malcolm had to be upset, but he was as quiet and useful as ever.
For quite some time, Marcus sat in a chair by her bed, waiting for her to wake up. He prayed, he cursed himself, he ran back through everything he'd said before. Still, none of it could change what was.
Finally, close to noon, Kira's eyes started to flutter softly. Marcus sat up straight as an arrow, hoping that she would come to. She let out a soft, painful moan, her broken ribs clearly obstructing her breathing.
Marcus winced as he watched her struggle to breath, the beginnings of consciousness bringing her great pain. At last, her eyes fluttered open, a look of confusion filling them.
“Kira.” Marcus whispered, looking for signs of recognition in her gaze.
Her eyes slid shut once more, a painful sound escaping from her mouth as she tried to adjust her position on the bed.
With a gentle touch, Marcus reached forward and put his hand on her arm. Kira's eyes shot open, a terrified look of panic permeating them. “Don't touch me!” she screamed. She yanked her body to escape his touch, then let out an excruciating yell as pain tore through her body.
“Ahh..!” She began to sob brokenly, her face stinging from the tears flowing over wounded skin.
Marcus watched as the broken creature in front of him shook violently, clearly terrified of his presence. It felt like the pain of a knife, stabbing him deep in the heart.
“I'm sorry...” Marcus said, moving his hand away. Her huge eyes were staring at him now, a look of utter fear filling her. “Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me.”
###
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