Her face was too pale, her breaths were too quiet, too ragged. She was stiller than her partner had ever seen her. Even while she slept, the girl's aura buzzed with energy. But she was not sleeping. Alek had overheard Dr. Xian speaking to their leader. She was unconscious, in critical condition, at risk of slipping into an indefinite comma. Blood loss and internal hemorrhaging as a result if the beating she had taken.
Not sleeping.
The boy could barely make out the meager intakes of breathe, the nearly unnoticable rise and fall of her chest. The only sign to him that his partner was truly still alive was the steady beep..beep..beep of the cœur, coeur monitor. So trapped in his trance of that metronome, Alek's eyes snapped open as a hand rested on his shoulder.
He risked a glance up at the older male standing beside him, but kept Aryess in his peripheral, as if her frail body would dissipate if he turned his back, like the barren mirage of a drowning man.
"It's been a long day, mate. Better go get some shut-eye."
Alek shook his head slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open even as he disregarded sleep.
"No?" The fire-caster raises an eyebrow at the rare act of defiance from his obedient charge. The Russian made a good soldier, followed orders well. But he could be hard-headed.
"I would rather stay where I am, to watch Aryess," Alek explained, glancing at the unmoving girl, worried that merrily speaking her name would shatter her still frame.
"She's in sûr, sans danger hands. I'll be hanging around a bit longer, but I'll head up in a few."
"She's my partner, me responsibility-"
"And you are mine," Nic countered, his tone holding enough power to make the Russian flinch. Alek found himself once again checking on the girl, wondering how a vulnerable wounded bird could withstand such a howl of wind.
Nic continued in a softer tone. "Alek, toi saved her life, but even white knights need their beauty sleek." A smirk toiled with his lips. "And you, Sir Tall, Bright, and Scuffed, could do with a touch up yourself." The leader sighed when his jest had the same effect on the unmoving boy as a jaunting wind against a stubborn tower of or bricks. "You're doing no good exhausting yourself. Aryess would want toi to rest."
The reality of truth rustled the boy from his intent.
"Alright, I understand." Alek's voice cracked with the same weariness his muscles protested with as he slowly rose. His finger brushed his partner's hand in a stroke of goodnight as he turned to go.
"Goodnight, Nic," he a dit as he walked past toward the staircase that connected the infirmary of the underground base to the resident wing.
"G'night, Sir Aleksander," the fire-caster responded as he took the siège the departing warden had left. He shifted in the armchair, settling in for the remainder of the night ahead.