In this crazy world of ups and downs where they tried to murder those like us via killer robot clowns, such mundane and human things seemed strange. But here we were, sat within the patch of clouds we called our home. I was watching over my little brother, who had recently lost his dominant arm. He was pale and coughing, and had a fever. I was trying to keep him warm and hydrated, but it was clear what had happened. The site at which his arm had been severed had been infected and poisoned blood was circulating about his body. He was clearly suffering. His breathing was fast and punctuated with whimpers and whines. Finally I tried to get him to take some water, but he just turned away and held up a hand.
I sighed. "What can I do?" I asked softly, brushing his hair off of his sweaty forehead. He took my hand.
"Antibiotic..." Was all he managed to say.
"I can't." I told him, shaking my head. "I've tried. I can't get them without making a...a scene and putting my life at risk..."
A strained smile appeared on his face. He was happy that I was keeping myself safe, but suddenly it struck me.
"Your blood is infected, Tavis...tell me...could this be fatal?"
He licked his lips with a dry tongue and looked away, not willing to answer. That was enough to tell me. If I couldn't get him medicine, he would die. I swallowed anxiously, pressed the water bottle into his remaining hand and walked to the edge of the cloud.
"Gan..." He called weakly. "Don't do anything stupid..."
I glanced over my shoulder and gave a sad smile. "I won't. I promise."
And that was how I ended up trying to sneak into the drug store after hours. It was still open, but the only person in there was the owner, so rather than break something and alert those around me, I walked through the front door. I wasn't wearing my helmet, and I'd let my long hair hang loose, covering my face. It would help hide my mutations a little, I thought, and considering I wasn't wearing my shirt, maybe people might think I was, might see my miscoloured arms as sleeves...a long shot, but my best hope. I didn't keep an eye on the man behind the counter, didn't notice him press the button beneath the counter. I was too busy stuffing anything labelled 'antibiotic' into my clothes. I noticed when people began pouring into the small shop, though, all armed and dangerous. I held my hands up in surrender. "I mean you no harm." He tried. "I have never meant anyone any harm."
One of them came charging at me with a scream. I caught him by the collar and threw him back, and he fell on something that managed to pierce through him. I stared on in shock, but I had to act fast. The others were coming for me now, convinced I was a monster. I had to fight.
So that was that. These people weren't going to go easy on me, so doing so for them could mean my death. I had to fight my best, but I was weak. I hadn't eaten or slept or drunk anything for quite a while, as concerned as I was with my little brother. I was pushed up against a wall with a grunt and I could feel hits and jabs, but nothing major. They'd all crowded too close to do serious damage. And then there was a flash of bright light and an electric charge seemed to pass through them. Lightning pushed through them and I gasped.
"What are you doing here? You're sick, you need bed rest!"
"I followed you. I knew you'd get in trouble." He cut off then as more men and women started to swarm us again. We were driven back to fighting, and suddenly I felt something slash past my throat. I could feel warm blood trickle down my hands and torso, and dropped to my knees, and then I heard a blood-curdling scream.
Through the mass of people I could see a woman removing my brother's right eye with a pair of scissors. He was raking his nails over her face now he'd realised pulling at her hand would be no use. His screams became strangled sobs, and I wasn't sure what to do. I swung my arms out, sending out one last sound blast before passing out. The last thing I saw was my brother unleashing a full-body blast.
I woke up to a sharp pain in my throat. I threw my hand up, just to hear the startled cry from my brother.
"Please don't! I'm trying to help!" He pleaded, afraid I would undo his handywork.
"W-what are you doing?" I tried to ask, but all that came out was a hiss of air.
"It's okay." He told me. I opened my eyes, seeing him look down at my throat, one shining hazel eye, one dark, swollen hole oozing blood and meat. I must admit it was a terrifying sight. He whimpered.
"Please don't. I will be fine, I promise, brother. I'm sewing your injury shut." I wondered how for a brief moment before realising that beside him he had a pin and dental floss...He was using dental floss and a normal pin that would certainly tear holes in my flesh as a makeshift suturing kit. My mind ran through every little danger, and the possibility of choking him there and then, but I took a proper look at him then. Pale and sweaty, clearly quite unwell. Still infected and brutally injured. I reached up and stroked the side of his face and he started crying. I tried to comfort him, but after a moment he began to wail.
"You can't speak!" He wailed, curling up against my chest.
I can't? I frowned, stroking his fair hair, thinking it would be okay.
"But it won't!" He cried.
...Can you hear me?
He looked up. "I can hear you...but you're not speaking..."
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