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English
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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2,133
Chapters:
1/1
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13
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833

Every Time I Fall

Summary:

"Caught in a firefight, Hobbes and Pinocchio have to come to terms with the thought of losing Florence."

Work Text:

 

"EVERY TIME I FALL"
A short "Harsh Realm" story
based on the song by John Michael Montgomery
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

*   *   *   *   *

The firefight was fierce, sustained and unexpected.  Hobbes took a graze to his right cheek but was otherwise unscathed.  Fortunately the soldiers had not hit them out in the open otherwise there would have been no escape.  The defile was torturous but covered with assorted bushes, trees and undergrowth giving them at least some cover.  Pinocchio shielded Hobbes when he inadvertently moved into the line of fire a fraction before a bullet caught Florence in the stomach.  Every nerve in Pinocchio's body screamed knowing he could not save them both.  Could not split himself in two.  He hardly felt the smash of the bullet against his collarbone as he pushed Hobbes clear. Hardly registered the shock on Hobbes' face as he realised what had happened and let loose with a barrage of rifle fire to shield his friend.  It was as if everything was going in slow freeking motion.  Florence folded like a deck of cards, bright crimson blossoming across her abdomen as she fell.  Her mouth open in a silent cry that he heard with every cell in his body.  His mind screamed, his heart breaking upon the shores of every nightmare he had ever known. 
 

"Let me tell you about a lady that I know
Who stood tall and proud beside me
Down many a dead end road
Never asking more than I could give
Never once complaining about the way
We had to live...."

("Every Time I Fall" - John Michael Montgomery)
 

    Somehow Hobbes helped him get Florence out of there, out of that narrow defile before the remnant of Santiago's patrol regrouped and finished what they had started.  Fortunately they had taken out most of them.  Those that were left were either badly injured or too few to mount an effective search and destroy strategy.  They had beaten them off this time, but the cost. Pinocchio bit back tears.  The cost was too high.  They got Florence back to camp.  No longer conscious, Pinocchio could feel the waves of panic lapping at his heart, so strung out he was oblivious of Hobbes trying to talk to him.  Telling him she would be alright.  He would get a fire started, administer first aid.  They would not let her die.  Pinocchio ignored him.  Ignored everything but the pale face before him.  Dexter whimpered softly but Hobbes picked the little dog up and took him with him to go and collect wood to make a fire.  Pinocchio sat on the ground and cradled her head in his lap.  His coarse rough hands gentle as he pulled back her shirt to look at the wound. A hiss caught in his throat, his eyes flashing up to her face but she hardly moved.  He wriggled carefully out of his jacket and then removed his shirt, tearing it in quick strips with his knife and quickly binding the wound.  She stirred in silent moans which he felt, his mind crying out for her to hang on.  Every time he looked at her a thousand memories assailed him, so many things she had done for him and Hobbes without a thought for herself.  All the precious moments they had shared.

    He thought back to their first meeting, the way they had just seemed to fit together.  The surprise he had felt at finding someone he could feel completely comfortable with.  Not just because of her silence, that was not it at all.  It was her spirit, her soul, her strength, humour and compassion.  So many little things about her that gladdened his heart and made this Harsh Realm bearable.  She was his most constant companion.  His touchstone.  The only angel he ever wanted to watch over him.  To share the burden of his days.  The aching sorrow of his nights.  Filling the painful abyss in his heart.  Everything about her was precious to him.  He raised a hand to touch her face, terrified that she would not wake yet scared of disturbing her. She was like the other half of his soul.  The half that counted.  He swallowed hard and remembered.
 

"Well she never showed a sign of losing hope
Though many dreams and promises
Have all gone up in smoke
She hides her disappointment out of love
If I laid the whole world at her feet it wouldn't
Be enough..."
 

    He hardly registered Hobbes returning.  A bowl of heated water and a cloth his contribution.  Hobbes gently lifted Pinocchio's hands off the strips of shirt, his voice gentle, the words unheard and unheeded.  He was in shock but more than that, his heart was holding its' breath while he prayed. His eyes begging her not to leave him.  Not to let death win.  He could not bear it if he lost her.  Did she know?  Had he ever told her?  He could not freeking remember and suddenly the need to be sure she knew was all consuming.  Hobbes saw the look in his friend's eyes, the fear, the love unspoken that lived in the guarded depths and showed only in his actions.  A glance exchanged, a word, a touch.  Now everything he thought and felt but had never said shone in eyes bright with unshed tears.  His expression grim, the colour draining from his face as he watched over her.  Holding her so lightly.  Hobbes did not want to think what would happen to Pinocchio if she died.
 

"She's the rock I lean on through it all
Every time I stumble
Every time I fall
Though she's never shown it
I've known it from the start
Every time I fall it breaks her heart.
Every time I fall it breaks her heart..."
 

    Hobbes cleaned the wound.  Managed to get Pinocchio to help him sit her up so he could examine her back, a sigh of relief escaping from his lips and actually managing to drag Pinocchio's eyes away from her face.

    "Bullet went straight through."  Said Hobbes.

    His friend did not respond.  No nod, no hesitant smile, nothing. It was as if the lights were on but nobody was home.  Slowly Pinocchio seemed to become aware of Hobbes, his eyes speaking for him.  Trying to tell Hobbes just how much this woman meant to him.  How long she had loved him.   How little he deserved that love.  How deeply he loved her back, even when he had not acknowledged the feelings binding his heart to her.
 

"Now let me tell you about many silent tears
I've found heaped upon the pillow
In the morning through the years
Somehow I'm still a hero in her eyes
But to tell the truth
I can't give you one good reason why..."
 

    Hobbes lay her back down in Pinocchio's arms.  Wished he could say something but there was nothing to say.  All he could do was keep the wound clean, bind it, and hope that Florence had not lost too much blood.  He turned to Pinocchio, pulled his shirt back to see to his wound but he shook him off.  Irritated Hobbes would not be averted.  "You're hurt, Pinocchio. Let me do this for you."

    Pinocchio did not look at him. 

    "Just don't fight me, Pinocchio."

    He did not hear the words.  Did not feel Hobbes dabbing gently at the dirty wound with the cloth.  How could he tell Hobbes?  Then he caught Hobbes' eye and for a moment they connected in shared pain.
 

"She's the rock I lean on through it
Every time I stumble
Every time I fall.
And though she's never shown it
I've known it from the start
Every time I fall it breaks her heart.
Every time I fall it breaks her heart..."
 

    Hobbes knew.  He understood.  He heated the knife then probed for the bullet, the pain and the heat drawing a flinch from the stoic face but little else.  Hobbes bound the wound and would have moved them to the tent he had pitched when he lit the fire but the look on Pinocchio's face stopped him. He sighed and looked up at the sky.  It was a warm summer evening, the night
only reluctantly starting to draw in.  Hobbes left them and banked up the fire, deciding to keep watch.  He fussed the dog then went to check the perimeter.  When he returned Florence and Pinocchio were asleep, Pinocchio's arms cradled protectively around her.  Hobbes got his sleeping bag, unzipped it and wrapped it carefully around the sleeping couple.  He watched them through the night, even Dexter being careful not to disturb them.  It was uncanny the way animals always knew.  Hobbes yawned.  Knew Pinocchio had taken a bullet for him and in doing so had been unable to protect Florence.

    Morning came in a bright haze of sunshine.  Hobbes had tea heating and was sorting through the supplies for something to heat for breakfast. Florence stirred in Pinocchio's arms waking him.  He jerked upright and flinched at the pain in his collarbone, his eyes fixed on Florence.  She gave him a tentative smile.  His arms were wrapped around her waist, his hands laying gently over her wound.  His mouth dropped open in surprise.

    "Florence!"

    Her smile became a grin.  Hobbes looked up from the fire and almost dropped the mug he was filling with tea.  She seemed amused by their reaction.  Hobbes hurried over to them, pushed the sleeping bag back and gently peeled aside the strips of shirt to look at her wound.  Pinocchio was looking into Florence's eyes, transfixed by the humour mocking him.  Hobbes swore.  Pinocchio tore his eyes away from Florence and looked at Hobbes with dread in his eyes.  "What is it Hobbes?"

    Hobbes grinned at him in awe and puzzled delight.  "See for yourself."

    Pinocchio looked, his eyes widening as he saw the healed flesh on her abdomen.  Not a mark, not even a scratch, just a smear of blood.  His mouth dropped open and he looked at Florence. 

    She shook her head and cradled his face between her hands. 

    The shock on his face was palpable.  Florence's smile turned into a slow grin as she kissed him.

   

    Her kiss deepened as her thoughts penetrated every stubborn thought in his head.  Driving out all his objections before they could be fully formed.

    Dazed he found himself lost in her kiss.  Unaware that she laid her hand on his collarbone as they kissed, her light healing him in more ways than one.  Hobbes watched, such happiness on his face.  He looked at Florence in wonder.  His gentle heart soaring with pride and love for her. 

    She did not correct him but deep in her heart she thought, . She would not have told him even if she could have spoken that the only one apart from another healer who could do this was the One.  Did not tell him because neither Pinocchio or Hobbes were ready to know the truth yet. Florence had not known for the longest time, believing Hobbes was the One. Gradually little things had happened which had changed her perspective.  This latest incident proved it beyond all doubt.  She was happy.  Ecstatic.  Her kiss deepened.  Hobbes went to take a walk to give them some privacy.  The beauty of the moment would pass all too soon.  Let them find what joy they could while they could.
 

"She's the rock I lean on through it all
Every time I stumble
Every time I fall
And though she's never shown it
I've known it from the start
Every time I fall it breaks her heart
Every time I fall it breaks her heart..."
 

      Said Florence in his head, her arms wrapping possessively around him. 

    She felt his love expand to fill her heart.  That was when he realised he was still her hero. 

    Her hands clasped his and brought him up to his feet.  He looked at her and waited to see what she wanted.  Her grin was bright but brief, then she drew him towards the tent. 

    He chuckled.  Could feel himself falling only this time he would not break her heart.  This time he would hold it in his.  It was the only place he wanted to be.  The sparkle in her eyes told him that she agreed...
 

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