.| i'll never surrender |. [misa]

[Dylan Woods.]

Dylan was walking down one of the large corridors with a smirk on his face. He'd skipped Math to have a smoke in the grounds, he'd just say he'd had a sore stomach and had gone to the hospital wing. No one would ever know. Having fire powers sure had it's advantages, he dind't have to carry a lighter anymore. He could conjur fire to his finger tips and use them instead. The thought made him smirk wider. His hands were in his jeans pocket, the jeans were worn and faded, the shirt he was wearing was red plaid -lumber jack style- and it was worn open over a black shirt, his tall, lean, thin body made it difficult for the t-shirt to pass the waistband of his trousers and if he raised his arms above his head even a fraction you would be able to see his perfectly flat stomach. He was completely contented, he didn't think anything could ruin his mood - only getting caught could marr his satisfaction.

Just then, Dylan was tapped on the shoulder, he glanced behind him to see the nurse. He froze. Oh sh!t. he thought. "Dylan Woods, isn't it?" she demanded, her face was soft but her tone was hard. Dylan pulled himself together, "Yeah.... Am I due a check up?" he smirked at her. She didn't smile. "Misa Matsuyama is currently in the Hospital Wing." she informed him in a brisk voice. Dylan's expression changed to one of shock and sudden fear. "What's wrong with her?" he asked urgently. Nurse Gornray grimaced slightly, "Promptly follow me to the Wing and I'll tell you." she demanded. Dylan wanted, very much, to throw up. The fear was overwhelming, his hands throbbed with heat, his fire power he'd been relishing over moments before was now reacting to his suddenly intense emotions. He bit his lip and followed her.

Once they got into the Hospital Wing Dylan whipped around to face the nurse. "Nurse Gornray, I demand you tell me what's going on." he suddenly said, the fear very slightly turning to anger. She studied him for a second, "Misa was found with cuts all over her arms." she told him. Dylan stared at her, unsure of what she meant. "Deep cuts." She clarified. He looked at her for a few seconds, then before he could speak she ploughed on. "I think we have to suspect that she did this to herself." Dylan was about to protest -Misa wouldn't!- but she held up her hand in a silencing manner. "There are older cuts, even deeper possibly. This evidence point towards a history of self harm." Dylan's hands suddenly burst into flames. She stared at him for a few seconds. "Misa wouldn't do that to herself!" he shouted. Then he took a few seconds, breathing deeply to try to calm himself. "Show me her." he snapped, he was still angry.

The nurse led him to the bed Misa occupied, the Hospital Wing was eeriely silent and Misa looked so fragile and pale lying unconscious on the bed. "Give me a moment." Dylan commanded Gornray. He sat on the chair beside her bed, he wanted to reach out and stroke her face but he didn't. All he could do was think. And thats when the doubt kicked in. You don't really know her. How could you possibly know she wouldn't do this to herself? a voice - that sounded like his mothers - niggled at his confidence in her. Doubt always sounded like his mother, his mother was the core of his doubt and past self-loathing. "Quiet." he commanded the voice in a whisper. Maybe she was trying to kill herself to get away from you. the voice continued, regardless. Dylan suddenly stood up, clenching his flaming fists. "Shut up." he snapped. Then he sat down by her bed and put his hands out in front of him, he concentrated on them until they stopped burning. Now all he could do was wait until she woke up.

[misa]

Misa woke slowly, savouring each moment. She had been having the most amazing
dream. There had been a boy...an extremely attractive, intelligent, funny, caring boy.
Dylan...And he had been talking to her. Telling her how much he cared, how she
ought to let him look after her because This proved she couldn't do it herself.
And she had agreed. Then he had told her it was Time to go. 'Go where?' she
had questioned but he had just smiled and given her the gentlest, most heartfelt hug
and it seemed to fill her with sunshine or something equally light and joyful.


And then she was back in her normal self, still filled with that comforting warmth and
wondering if perhaps she had imagined him, the details of the dream already fading
from her mind. But he didn't. Dylan was the one thing that remained as solid and sure
as ever. And when she finally opened her eyes he was there. He looked sad. It made
her sad that he was sad. He was too pretty to be sad.


Misa wondered vaguely when had her thoughts become so juvenile. She felt...drunk.
Or doped up to the nines, either or, she couldn't have cared less. He was looking away
out the window, distracted. He looked angry and that made her upset too. She didn't
want him to feel bad. Softly she slipped an arm out from beneath the tightly tucked in
covers and touched the back of his hand lightly. He jumped and looked at her. His
expression was peculiar- unreadable. It frightened her, it was so different from the one
expression he'd been wearing in her dream.

[Dylan Woods.]

Dylan was going ape with worry. He couldn't believe this was happening. Misa was unconscious. Unconscious and covered with cuts - both new and old but all deep - he could never, ever have seen this coming. He longed for the ability to see the future, that'd have taken the edge off this. Or would it have? Maybe it would have made it worse, being able to see what could happen and then not being able to do a single damn thing about it! He shivered at the thought. He looked at her face quickly, he could almost see the ghost of a smile that she'd once beamed at him. He bit his lip and looked away, in his mind he could still see her smiling at him. He couldn't believe this situation. Less than an hour ago he'd been worried about being caught skipping class to have a smoke, that seemed so trivial and unimportant now. He could almost feel her touching her hand, he glanced at his hand to check she wasn't actually touching him and felt overwhelmingly upset when he saw she wasn't.

Leaving one hand on the bed next to her Dylan put his other hands up to his face, shading his eyes from the glare of the lights. He was so close to breaking down in tears and he couldn't let that happen. Fear and anxiety was gripping his stomach like a fist crushes a soda can. His mother's voice continued to repeat the words It is all your fault she did this. over and over again in his head. He bit his lip and felt her hand on his again. He looked up to see she was actually holding his hand, he started back in his chair and his eyes raced to her face, her eyes were open. "Misa!" he exclaimed, he gripped her hand. He was suddenly so close to the bed his ribs were crushed against the cold, metal frame but he didn't care. He was so glad she was awake, moving. "What happened to you?" he demanded, staring her right in the eyes. Just because she was weak didn't mean she was getting out of a questioning. He was a determined boy, he WAS going to find out what happened.

[misa]

Suddenly, he was leaning really close, his grip on her hand was really tight. Too tight. He was shouting, why was he shouting? She didn't want him to be cross at her...Misa tried to think sensibly for a moment but, her brain just didn't seem to be completely connected just now. Like it was surrounded, or possibly replaced by, wet cotton wool. The idea of having a brain made of rain-filled clouds suddenly made her want
to giggle. But then she saw how upset he looked and she wanted to cry. She was making him sad. But why? Nothing was making sense, she couldn't think straight, couldn't focus, it was
too confusing...

"Ah, she's awake." Misa heard a voice comment from behind Dylan. A soft looking lady appeared behind him. Misa remembered going to see her before, but why? She couldn't remember anything properly. It was all too much. Tears came to
her eyes as the woman pushed Dylan aside, Misa didn't want him
to let go of her hand – he was the one thing she could
remember, could see, properly. Even if he was cross she didn't want to lose him and lose touch completely.

"No!" She exclaimed thickly as his grip slipped away from her hand. She wished he were holding her too tight again. She sat up in bed her heart racing as the world seemed to turn on its axis, as though Dylan had been the only thing holding it still.

"One moment Dear," The woman said calmly and Misa heard a strange beeping noise. "There now, I'd imagine you'll be feeling a bit odd right now, but I've dropped the morphine dose down to minimum and that should have effect pretty
fast." Misa could tell the last bit hadn't really been directed at
her. But she didn't care because then the woman was moving away and Dylan was back by her side. His hand holding hers once more.

"Please, don't be sad, don't be cross..." She murmured to him resting her head against his chest, his even heartbeat settling her own.

[Dylan Woods.]

Dylan was looking at her confused, fragile face when the annoying Nurse began to talk behind his back. She pushed him out of the way, Dylan lost contact with Misa's hand, 'No!' she had exclaimed in a weak voice. He felt his heart melt. He didn't care that she might have done this to herself, she wanted him to be near her and the nurse wasn't making this possible. He hated her at that moment. Hated her more than he could ever possibly express in words. He was suddenly seething with anger, his burst into flames and he was suddenly VERY happy he wasn't holding Misa's hand, he didn't want to burn her. She had enough damage done to her. He stood very still as Gornray spoke, to herself, Misa or him - he didn't know, nor did he care, he just wanted her to leave. He calmed himself down as quickly as he could, his hands were only tingling warmly when Nurse Gornray moved away. He smiled slightly and quickly returned to Misa's side, he didn't want to hold her hands, but he needed to be near her.

Dylan took Misa's hands for a few seconds, although he was petrified that he would scald her. He took her into his arms, she rested her head on his chest and spoke seven words that melted his heart 'Please, don't be sad, don't be cross.' He rested his chin on the top of her hair. "I won't." he whispered, his breath making some of her hair dance slightly, "Did you do this to yourself?" he asked her, still whispering. He ran his fingers down her arms, barely making contact with her flesh. Her skin was so cold compared to his overly warm hands. He needed to know the answer. He needed to know what he was dealling with. He loved her but it was too difficult for him to be in dark. He'd been kept in the dark his whole life. She was his light. If his light was keeping him in the dark then the end of the world was surely approaching. His heart beat sped up a little bit. He was suddenly terrified.

[misa]

'I won't.' She heard him whisper and with the words she seemed to recover some of her rational mind, as though his mild voice was helping bridge the confusing gaps in her mind. Like a broken electrical circuit being repaired her thoughts finally began to succeed in connecting sensibly. She started to remember. Will, the accident in the arena. A burning shame passed through her as she glanced down and realised her arms were bare and the scars littering her pale skin were on full view. And of course the dire red lines that traced the veins up her arms perfectly, to their meeting point on her neck. And Dylan could see them all.

'Did you do this to yourself?'His hands gently brushed up and down her arms. His hands were so warm and caring – how could he stand to touch her, to look at her, when she was so marred, so imperfect? Did she do it herself...That was nearly worse than the truth. But it was half true, it was her fault. If she hadn't been so stupid with the mirror it wouldn't look half as bad.

"It was an accident...Doesn't matter, it's nothing serious..." She trailed off at the look he gave her.

[Dylan Woods.]

Dylan couldn't help but feel the anger build inside him. He shot her a look of pure fury as she started her explaination. He balled his hands into fists and stood up straight, turning his back to her and trying to make himself calm down. He did not want to burst into flames in front of her. She was brushing it off, pretending it was no big deal. It was a big deal. A very big deal. Cuts and scars all over her arms. How could he have not noticed this before? It was dark when you met her, and you don't know her at all. his mother's voice nagged. He breathed in deeply and then breathed out again. He turned to look at her. He was calm, he was calm, he was- "IT DOESN'T MATTER? You had LIFE THREATENING injuries and it DOESN'T MATTER?" definately not calm. He had shouted at her before he realised what he was doing. He was right beside her bed, right up in her face, his hands grasping the iron frame of the bed, his hands eminating a bright red flame.

Dylans anger was not easy to contain once unleashed, he ploughed on with his ranting. "What the hell do you expect me to do? Just accept that it was an 'accident'?" as he said "accident" he made air quotes with his fingers. The venom was dripping off his tongue. He was furious. Completely furious. "How can you hold your own wellbeing at such low regard? How can you care so d**n little that you lost so much blood you nearly died? How can you sit there and say that it is nothing serious." His questions both required an honest answer and were rhetorical. If she didn't reply he'd simply rant more. He needed her to love herself as much as he loved her. He wasn't sure if she could manage that. He swore fluently and then stared her right in the eyes. He was still inches from her face, the iron frame was beginning to melt, he took them off the frame, which was now slightly sticky and balled them into fists.

[misa]

Dylan turned his back for a moment but, he wasn't quick enough for Misa to miss the tortured look on his face. She felt horribly guilty for doing this to him. She should have been more careful, if she hadn't fallen and been burned...God, none of this would be happening. Stupid Will, with her fire. And her big mouth, she no doubt was the one who told him where she was what had happened, or rather, what Will thought had happened.

"IT DOESN'T MATTER? You had LIFE THREATENING injuries and it DOESN'T MATTER?" She really was going to kill someone. Someone meaning Will. What the hell had she told him? Misa's head was totally clear now, she could think perfectly straight but, straight wasn't her objective anymore - quick was. She opened her mouth to respond but Dylan didn't seem to be planning on breathing, never mind stopping.

Suddenly he was up very close, too close. And he was angry, so angry! She may have been delirious earlier but, now she could see more depth to this. There was a terrible black fire within his eyes, burning far further beneath her barricades than she would have liked. It was as though he were looking straight at her soul and it unnerved her deeply.

Burning...Misa glanced down and she saw the bar of her bed melting at his touch. Mind you, anything would melt at the touch of someone whose hands happened to be made of flames at that moment in time! Her eyes widened in shock slightly.

"...How can you care so d**n little that you lost so much blood you nearly died? How can you sit there and say that it is nothing serious." He seemed to be finished but, she couldn't talk to him like this. This wasn't the Dylan she knew. She took a deep breath, begging her voice to remain steady, then said,

"You need to calm down. I will tell you, I promise. But please, calm down for me." She wanted to reach out to him and only just managed to refrain from doing so. Instead she took hold of his furious gaze with her own and refused to let her grasp waver or wonder, however painful it was to see him that hurt.

[Dylan Woods.]

Dylan took part in her staring contest for around half a minute. Then, with all the self control he could muster he stood up and moved away from her slightly. The heat radiating from his hands was quite overwhelming. Dylan considered sitting down, his brown eyes were black with anger but they were slowly fading to dark brown. He tilted his head to one side. Trying to calm himself even more. "What exactly happened?" he demanded as calmly as possible, emphasising each word, almost spitting it out with the exactness of his pronounciation. He was not at all calm yet. But he was calmer. His hands were barely even glowing now.

[ooc]sorry, just got chucked off the PC[/ooc]

[misa]

"Thank you," Misa said, taking a deep breath of her own, bracing herself for what she was about to say. She had never spoken of this before. To anyone. Not Ken'ichi and certainly nobody at 'home', if it could even be called that. The thought of consciously opening her mouth and telling someone, telling Dylan, about her mysterious, terrible past, made her feel quite ready to vomit. So instead she thought she'd start with something much easier to explain. The mirror. It was actually more embarrassing than anything. She'd let her anger get the best of her and she'd paid for it. She slowly turned her wrists up to look at the little scars that littered them and her palms. They were a pale pink almost white, fading already. Nothing like the horrid raw looking red lines which ran up her arms and across her neck. She forced herself to concentrate on the little scars as she spoke to Dylan, her voice careful and measured.

"These...I had an accident. I got upset and I smashed the mirror and I wasn't...careful with the pieces." It sounded utterly ridiculous. More than that, it sounded pathetic. Her gaze shifted to the prominent red lines. Oh well, what the hell, if she'd lost him already she wanted to be completely honest – lying wasn't something Misa tried to do. "And these-" She said, her voice little more than a whisper which failed her completely too soon. She traced a finger up one of the scars, shivering at her own touch. This could take a while. "Do you...do you want to sit down? She asked gingerly, shifting slightly so he could sit down on the bed beside her. If she wasn't lying to him then, she couldn't lie to herself either – she had to know if he was still with her before she could do this.

[Dylan Woods.]

Dylan wrung his hands in front of his stomach and chewed on his bottom lip. As she spoke about a mirror he felt himself get completely convinced that she was lying to him. He wanted to shout at her, but the way she was looking at her arms, inspecting her cuts, made him want to hold her even more. Of course he couldn't do this, his hands were at over 75^oC and would burn her skin terribly. He didn't know whether to believe her. He just snorted as she fed him that story, not knowing what to believe and wanting to seem like he was still annoyed with her. He ran his hands through his long brown hair and instantly regretted it, he could smell the very faint odour of burning hair, well not burning, warm and slightly singed hair. He swore silently and began to breath as regularly as possible. He needed to control himself, the fire was driving him mad. He didn't like feeling so warm all the time.

The way Misa faultered at the start of her next explaination made Dylan take notice. He stood up a little straighter, his curiousity prickling. He felt all the pent up emotions drain out of him, his hands going cold unnaturally quickly. He couldn't help but smile inwardly, he was happy he wasn't angry anymore. 'Do you...do you want to sit down?' she'd said. His imagination went into overdrive, it was so serious he needed to sit down? Thats GOT to be serious. "I think I'm cool enough for that." he said with a small smile, mostly talking to himself. He sat down on the chair that was conviently placed beside Misa's bed. He lent towards her slightly, not as close as before. He didn't want to be as intimidating as he had been. He wanted her to forgive him, love him. And he wanted her to feel like there would never have to be secrets between them, because no matter what, he'd love her.

[misa]

Her heart began to beat again as he settled next to her. He forgave her...she had never been so relieved in all her life. Why was that? For a moment the notion that this could be what she had read described so avidly in countless novels; this could be love. But, no, she pushed the ludicrous idea into a small corner of her brain and locked it up. Even if she did love him, hypothetically speaking of course, even if she did, he would never love her back. She just...well, she didn't know what she was to him, but someone as handsome and cleverly and so generally amazing could never really fall for her! But still, he was here with her now and that counted for something, for everything at that moment in time. And she was going to be completely honest with him. No more concealing. He'd seen everything already, now he needed to hear it all too.

"Dylan, what you have to understand is, where I come from is very different to here. My people were very...traditional in their beliefs and ways. My mother was their leader. She had powers, she was the only one with any. I was her only child and therefore her successor. I was kept away from the other children and protected at all times. My mother...she was an amazing person. She looked after everyone so well. Then war broke out and she was hurt. Badly." She met his gaze just to check how he was reacting then, her own eyes swimming with tears she refused to spill.

[Dylan Woods.]

Dylan didn't know what to say as she spoke, he simply stood very still with his arms tightly folded infront of his chest. Then she looked up at him, her eyes were brimming with tears and he felt like he was going to cry too. Because he knew, deep within himself, that if she was going to cry that he wouldn't be able to hold her without giving her third degree burns. Due to the sheer volume of emotions he was experienceing he simply could not cool himself down enough to not burn someone. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. He hoped she knew that he wasn't just avoiding touching her, that it was because of his fear of damaging her delicate skin.

"Okay." Dylan said slowly, hoping to tease out more of an explaination without suddenly saying "That doesn't explain the cuts and the scars." he needed to control himself, she'd tell him. This was obviously and emotional story for her, he couldn't rush her into it. That just wasn't fair. She had lost a lot of blood, he obviously could not allow himself to be so impatient. He resisted the temptation to run his hands through his hair, the way he used to when he was stressed, because that would just result in burnt hair smell, and he HATED that smell more than anything.

[misa]

Misa watched him shift uneasily and she felt the reassurance that he wanted to hold her as much as she wished he would, but they both knew he was far from calm enough for that. It didn't remove the longing though.
"Okay." He said and it seemed to be just the response she didn't know she'd been waiting for him to make. Not too little, not too much. Her heart gave a little flutter that he could get it so right before she forced herself to continue.
"She was dying. I was young at the time, I didn't know what was happening to her. They refused to let me see her until the very end. I was taken through to see her and then she died. The last thing she told me was, 'Run'. Dylan, I don't remember anything between the moment she died and when I woke up days later. All I have to tell me something happened are these," She ran a hand up one arm, fiercer in her own touch than before. She closed her eyes, trying to pretend for one moment that the skin was as unblemished as it felt. But all she could see were the dirty great red lines that ran over her skin, like a child had been way to creative with the permanent markers.
She felt the tears splash gently on her skin several seconds before she realised she was crying. Sighing, she wiped her eyes and opened them again.
"I became their new leader. That night...it was never to be spoken of again after that, it was an ancient law, sort of. I had to grow up fast. At the time, I assume it happened to everyone, but I wised up fast." She finished, her voice fading to near nothing.

[Dylan Woods.]

Dylan looked at her, he didn't know what to do or what to say. He'd never thought anything like that would happen to anyone. He thought his life had been hard. He had never lost days and woken up with scars all up his arms. His mother had never died, no matter how many times he had wished it upon her. He knew that even though he hate his mother, and he hated her with all his heart, that if she was to die he would still feel upset. She had been close to her mother, he couldn't begin to understand the sort of loss she had felt. He wanted to touch her.

Dylan crouched beside Misa's bed, he looked at her with adoring and sympathetic eyes. He didn't know how to respond "I..." he started, then paused, what was he trying to say? "I'm so sorry." he whispered. Then, hoping that he had calmed down enough to not burn her, he brushed his lips against hers. He pulled his head away and watched her reaction.

[ooc] gotta go. it's done. but it's crap. [/ooc]