(9) Rescue

"I was so worried about you Elaine." John whispered in my ear as he held me close and buried his face in my hair. I clung to him with what strength I had left. Here was my pillar. I didn't have to fight on my own anymore. He pulled back after a long moment and stared into my eyes. The depth of those blue pools always astounded me. A wrinkle popped up between his brows as he knit them together in concern. "Are you alright?!" He asked, a hint of panic edging his usually calm voice. I shook my head slowly, it was growing more difficult to think. His eyes hardened with determination as he announced, "You don't have to worry Elaine, you're safe now. I'm going to take care of you." I nodded and he scooped me into his arms and carried me out of the room of the dead. Vague glimpses of a winding staircase, a long dark tunnel, and a green woodland trail were all I could see in my delirious state. Finally, we stopped and I felt John lay me down on the ground. I sensed him rummage at my side before I fell into an exhausted sleep.
When I awoke, the colors seemed too bright and the sounds too clear for reality. I rubbed my eyes and laid my hands on either side of my head. They felt cloth and cool, damp grass. I seemed to be in the middle of a secluded glen. I could hear a brook somewhere close by. The sunlight filtering through the trees made the dew still clingling to the leaves sparkle like a thousand diamonds. I stretched and turned my head to the side. My eyes found a pair of blue ones staring into them. John was sitting, sprawled on the dew-laden grass a few feet away watching me. He wasn't wearing a shirt. I felt color return to my face as my eyes took in his toned, bare chest. He was not exceptionally broad, but he was not out of shape either. A few raised scars cut across the smooth skin, along with a few grazed spots from ray gun fire. He had been in the fighting, and some of the cuts looked rather recent. It was then that my brain realized that I was laying on his shirt.
"How do you feel, Elaine?" came my love's voice. I was momentarily distracted from answering because it was such a beautiful sound, John saying my name. Dozens upon dozens of people had said those syllables in my lifetime, but none of them had made my name sound as special and sweet as John. "Elaine?" there it was again. He made it sound musical. But the tone of concern in his voice made me stop enjoying the sounds comming out of his mouth and start answering his question. "I feel...fine?" I answered haltingly. I was confused. Why did I feel so good? I should feel terrible after such a long time without basic necessities and bodily comforts. He smiled a sparkling smile at me in the morning light and motioned to a near-by rock laden with herbs and some thick paste that looked like the remains of a flattened slug. I smiled at him as I propped myself up on my elbows. Of course he would have mixed me up a potion. He had a way with that. He had a way with everything. And as I looked back at him, sitting there in the grass, ray gun strapped to his side, I knew that I was even more in love with him than I thought. He was watching me carefully, with a measured look on his face. After a moment of silence he said,

"Elaine, we need to talk."