01

And So The Angel Fell

Healing Katniss - James Newton Howard

He wished he wasn't half blind so that the last thing he saw wasn't Sasuke's terrified face, distorted through diseased blurs of black and gray.

He wished that he could hug Sasuke again, if only for a moment, but with his life nearing its end he settled on their familiar forehead tap. It wasn't enough, but it was all he was capable of. Itachi's body was feeble, weak. Blood loss made his world spin, unconsciousness slowly creeping in on the edges of his mind.

Itachi closed his hot eyes, then struggled them open again. This time he saw nothing.

"I'm sorry Sasuke... This is the last time."

Itachi was tired. His fingers fell from Sasuke's head, the world spun and then disappeared. He was faintly aware of his limp fall to the ground.

All he could do was wait for imminent death.

Blurry thoughts floated through his mind, only a few coherent. Would he be able to see his family again? Would he be able to be with them in a heaven? That one almost made him laugh. Bitterly, insanely. What an odd thought for a person like him to have. There would be no heaven for such a monster. Hell was what awaited him.

My life could be summed up in one sentence. Things didn't go according to plan.

It seems that as soon as I get into an easy lull of peace something slams into me full force to knock me around. I know some people would love a life as "exciting" as mine, but honestly at 19 years old, all I want to do is settle down. Now, that's not something your average 19 year old would say, which hopefully shows just how exhausted I am with this life.

Even now, as I stand in this field of blue flowers, staring at the weirdo passed out in them, all I want is peace.

I had planned to have a nice walk. It was a beautiful day, and I had been so busy lately, I needed the fresh mountain air to clear my mind. But of course, life had a different idea.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, exasperated. I mean, why exactly would someone get so drunk that they pass out randomly in a field, in the middle of the evening? More then occasionally you would be able to find at least two drunkards passed out in random spots around our small town. But, this guy wasn't even an old man like the ones that you would usually find. Actually he really couldn't have been much older then me.

I bent to examine him further, shifting my weight forward and placing my hands on my knees. My eye's widened as I took in this gorgeous man. Black hair, athletic, and an odd expression on his face. No denying it, he was beautiful. But what exactly was that strange expression? Sadness?

His arm twitched and I jerked back, not realizing that I had been slowly inching forward towards him.

"Sas..." A mummer escaped his slightly parted lips. I froze, waiting to see if he would make any other movements. Sauce? Is that what he just said?

I relaxed when his lips closed and the strange expression returned to his face. A frown appeared on my own."What exactly do I do now?" I mumbled to myself.

I stood and looked around the field sheepishly, trying to find something that would explain this guys random appearance. Hopefully I could get a sense of which direction he came from. But, all I saw were my own footprints that had forced down the little blue flowers.

I knew the kind thing to do would be to take him back with me, after all it was supposed to rain tonight. I looked up to the sunset streaked sky, now quickly turning gray with clouds. Being out in the rain overnight wouldn't be good for him. Even though it was summer, the nights were cold, colder with rain. Even if he wasn't hurt it could still make him sick.

He didn't seem injured when I first looked at him, of course I'm no expert on those things. He could have knocked his head somehow and got a concussion. I glanced back down to the weirdo, feeling my lips purse into a thin line.

His breathing was normal, even though it was deep and slow. There was no blood, and the strange expression was gone now. I threw my head back and groaned. Just what I needed, another person to look after at home...

"Alright bud, lets get you up." I grumbled anyway, squatting down to put his arm around my neck. My eyes caught on his black painted finger nails. Weirdo.

He was a lot heavier then expected. I brought him up with a grunt, twitching in pain as something popped in my back. I dragged him a few feet and apologized to the flowers who were about to get torn and flattened.

I stumbled quite a few times as I dragged him back to the house, but thankfully the path from the field was all downhill. I would lie if I said I didn't consider just rolling him down like a log. But of course, I did no such thing.

Just as I felt the first rain drops fall to my hair, the cozy house came in view between some oak trees. Vines decorated the roof and walls, while a mixture of beautiful flowers sat at its bottom. It was old, but it was home. My favorite, the lavenders, were in full bloom signaling that summer was in its throws.

I stumbled onto the mossy stone pathway, pausing to shift the weirdo. He was starting to get really heavy. Beads of sweat were already running down the back of my neck, and in between my boobs. That's the worst. Boob sweat.

I shuddered and continued on, making slow progress towards the old wooden back door.

After nearly twisting my ankles on an out of place rock, I finally reached it. But, I realized I was now faced with a new problem... how exactly I would get the door open while this guy was slung across me. I lifted my foot hesitantly, my legs shaking with the effort. Fumbling, I ungracefully kicked the door open, causing it to slam against the inside wall. A shocked cry rang through the house.

"Granny? Its just me, Maria!"

And the screaming began.

"Robber! Murderer! Rapist! Help, someone help!"

I could hear thrashing and thuds along with the panicked screeches. Panicking myself, I hurriedly propped the man against the wall sitting on the floor. Without kicking off my shoes I sprinted towards the sounds. Through the kitchen and into the living room, I saw Granny thrashing in her wheelchair, desperately trying to escape the perceived threat.

"Granny! I said it was me!" My voice was colder and more annoyed then I had meant it to be.

Her wild eyes darted up to me. I looked away.

"Elizabeth!" She shouted, "Hurry Elizabeth! There's a murderer in this house!"

"Granny, it was me, and I'm Maria." I said, trying to keep the annoyance far from my tone. She hadn't recognized me in days.

"Oh, Elizabeth," She continued as if she hadn't heard me. "Oh Elizabeth, I was so frightened." She held a shaking hand to her chest.

I found it was best to go along with whatever story her mind was conjuring up, so I ignored the mistaken identity. Instead, I looked to the TV and saw that the channel was changed to static.

"Granny, did you change the channel?" I questioned, looking around for the remote.

"Oh, there was a terrible thing on. That box makes no sense."

Granny grew up during the depression. She thought the television was a ridiculous thing, always drank her coffee black and still rationed her sugar. Her mind was stuck in the past. Completely normal, the doctor said.

However, she was only getting worse.

Her motor functions were on a steady decline, hence the wheelchair. I was her primary care giver now, even before we found out that she was ill I cared for her.

I rolled her thinning hair in small plastic pink curlers every night, and in the morning I removed them and brushed out her hair. I would pick out her outfits and do her makeup. On Saturdays we'd make the three hour trip into the town just to browse around the mall for hours, looking at nothing and everything, nibbling on food court pretzels. In the twilight hours once we arrived home, we liked to venture outside to watch the fireflies, sitting in comfortable silence.

My Granny used to be the light of my life, full of wisdom and love. But she was different now. I picked up the remote that had somehow fallen to the floor. That was just life, I guess.

I flicked absentmindedly through channels, subtly deciding on Wheel of Fortune. I glanced back to Granny, "Good?" I questioned.

She didn't answer, the 'box' had her entranced.

When I was first informed of my Granny's condition I visited a old age home, specifically made for Alzheimer patients. Heavy melancholy was etched into its walls, filled with the elderly unable to do the most mundane of tasks or piece together a simple sentence. Vacant eyes seemed to stare through me as they sat in their wheelchairs, defecating their pants.

I knew that my Granny's body would outlive her mind, but it didn't make it easier to go through. And as I said, she was only getting worse. You could see it in her eyes. Like now, as she gazed into the TV you could see that she wasn't completely there. Those eyes frightened me.

I put the remote back and silently left the room. Best to shake it off.

I had nearly forgotten about the weirdo, but was reminded when I rounded the corner of the kitchen. He was still in the same position, albeit slumped over just a bit more. His hair, long and straight, fell down over his shoulder, some strands covering his face. I smoothed down my own tangled mess, I was always envious of people with beautiful hair.

I knew I couldn't leave him in the hallway, but I wasn't too keen on bringing him into the living room to have Granny freak again. I glanced down the hallway at the stairs, feeling dread grow in my stomach and the aching of my already strained muscles grow. But I swallowed it, I had to get him up to a bedroom somehow. No matter how much it sucked. I looked back to him with disdain, but bent down. I slung his arm around my shoulder, the same way I had earlier, then started the agonizing journey.

"Lift with your knees, not your back!" I paused for a moment. "Yes, Daddy I know!"

I frowned. Now wasn't the time for intrusive thoughts.

The journey up the stairs was long and draining, but I felt a wave of satisfaction when I finally reached the top. I threw my head back and gasped for air, steadying myself on the railing.

"Now... where to put you." I looked down the straight hallway. There was three options. My room, which was a definite no. Tim's old room didn't even have a bed anymore... which meant... My gaze locked on the door at the end of the hallway.

Dad's room? I shifted the weirdo on my back uncomfortably. It had mostly been cleared out, the only remaining things were a bed, a side table and dad's infamous old lamp. It would have to do.

His feet dragged along the floor, and I huffed in effort. It only took a few footsteps to reach the door. My hand rested on the handle. It had been a while. It probably smelled the same.

Quickly I pushed open the door. The room was dim, the first rain drops beginning to hit the windows. I inhaled. It did smell the same. Mom tried to wash this room clean, but the smell of old books was strong and wouldn't be killed easily. The corner of my lips tugged up into a smile.

I brought the dead weight over to the bed and laid him down with a grunt. I stood and stretched my arms overhead, taking a big breath. That was the most exercise I had in a while.

I swept some sweat from my forehead, moving my eyes back down to my guest. Should I just leave him here? I looked around the room. Hopefully he wouldn't be too worried when he woke up. I looked back down to him. He really was handsome. I rubbed my cheeks after feeling them heat up, I couldn't let that embarrassing habit pick up again.

I stole one last glance at the weirdo and left the room quickly to finish off the day.

The night time routine with Granny was the same as it had always been. Coax her gently into the main floors bathtub, wash her, roll her hair, dress her in her favorite pink nightgown and then put her to bed. Sometimes she liked the radio on to drown her thoughts, and other nights she didn't. Tonight was one of the other nights, so the house would be eerily quiet.

I hardly remembered getting myself ready for sleep. Exhaustion numbed my thoughts and slowed my movements. Today was a busy day, and my bed was now calling for me. I didn't ignore it. My feet moved on their own and led me to my sweet sweet bed, which I collapsed on. With no energy to even cover myself with my blanket I drifted off...

I awoke in the late night suddenly, jarringly.

In a dream I heard a loud crashing noise. But, why had I awoken? Was the noise carried from real life into my dream? Its strange for me to randomly wake up, I usually sleep through the night without any interruptions.

My mind flickered over to the stranger. Had he caused it?

I got out of bed, the cold floor sent a shock through my spine and I stood. It was a cold night and of course I hadn't stoked a fire in the wood stove downstairs. However, the uncomfortable temperature wasn't my main concern.

The hallway was dark, and shadows played in the corners of my eyesight. I tiptoed across the icy wooden floor, a certain uneasiness settling in my stomach. When I reached the door my hand rested on its door knob, waiting for something. My breath kept catching in my chest. My heartbeat was quick, and I couldn't keep my limbs from trembling. I was afraid. But of what?

Deep breath.

I willed my heart to stop pounding, the trembling subsided, and I pushed the door open slightly. Just enough to peak my head around.

The first thing I saw was the lamp broken on the floor. Its shattered glass scattered and glinting in the moonlight, reflecting patches of blue light on the wall. The noise did come from here. Which must mean...

My eyes moved steadily up to the bed.

Moonlight shone from behind him, a soft blue glow outlining his body; which was not lying down, but sitting against the wall. He turned slightly, unsteadily. His labored breathing filled the tense space between us. I started to tremble again. He reminded me of a fallen angel.

His eyes were already fixed to mine and I could not look away. Black, cold, empty. I was paralyzed.