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Chapter 17~ Time Heals
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A quiet tension passed in the frozen New York air—Bernard holding his breath and Kit gazing into the clock. It felt as though some tremendous moment was about to occur and break the silent night into a million pieces. At least that was what Bernard felt.
Kit nodded to herself, locking her ideas in. She looked towards the far left of the street and raised the clock to her ear. The ticking was soft, barely audible, but still there. She grabbed onto Dasher’s reigns and began down the sidewalk. Bernard waited a moment, watching after her. Was she crazy?
“Where are you going?” he called. But, she kept moving ahead. “Kit!” With an aggravated groan, Bernard grabbed the reigns on Prancer and followed several yards behind.
Kit, not bothering with the elf behind her, kept a steady path—only raising her hand to listen to the clock.
“Kit, stop! Where are you going?”
“I am under no obligation to tell you anything.”
“You can’t just walk around New York at night. You’ll get hurt.”
“I can take care of myself. You, however, should turn back.”
He paused for a second, knitting his brows and frowning. “You know I can’t do that. What about Charlie?”
Kit almost stopped. What about Charlie? She hadn’t thought of her dad. But, it didn’t matter. He’d try to hold her back just like Bernard. It was better he knew nothing. Kit turned around, continuing her path and tossing her words in Bernard’s direction. “Tell him to be ready to see Mom again soon—”
SMACK!
An unexpected rise in the sidewalk hit Kit’s boots. Her balance collapsed along with her grip on Dasher. The clock flew out of her hands as she reached to soften her landing before brutally crashing into the cement.
“Aaah!” she shrieked, clutching at her broken hand that had taken most of the blow. It burned hot and was beginning to numb at the fingertips.
“Kit!!” Bernard yelled, dropping Prancer’s reigns and rushing down to her.
Kit whined in agonizing pain, kicking her feet to try and feel anything other than the throbbing in her hand.
“Are you okay? What did you—God, Kit, your hand!”
Kit only responded with a despondent groan.
“We gotta get you up, come on.” He helped her shoulders and head off of the ground and into a sitting position before leaning her back against a stone garden wall.
“How did this happen?” he started, trying to detach Kit’s grasp on her injury.
“I don’t know…I was flying…aah…and I tried to land…ngh…I hit the roof,” she managed to say over the heavy breaths and whines.
Bernard finally managed to examine the hand. It had grown angrily swollen and purple and yellow across the flesh. Her fingers lay limp, not daring to even fidget. A deep disappointment filled Bernard from the very bottom. He felt his face flush and his jaw tighten. He should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have let her run off. It was all his fault.
“I’m fine, I just—” she weakly began.
“You’re not fine, Kit. Just stop moving.” He narrowed his gaze and tried to concentrate. There’d be no getting her to a hospital quickly. Not to mention, nurses would ask questions. Like who he was. And Charlie and Scott would freak out.
“Kit,” he said, squeezing her shoulder, “Listen to me. I can fix this—”
“Fix it! Please, fix it!” she wailed.
“But,” he continued, “it won’t be painless, and you can’t move or else the bones won’t set properly. Do you understand?”
“Yes! Please, Bernard, just fix it.” She pressed her forehead into his arm, desperate to feel anything else.
“Okay, just…” He raised a hand over hers and drew his eyes in. “Just hold still…”
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Bernard hadn’t used his magic to heal very often. There was never any need to. Maybe an occasional paper cut or migraine he’d flick away without a second thought, but setting bones and healing torn muscle tissue was tricky business, especially if the injury had been aggravated. It almost pained him to do what he did next, but waiting would only make it worse. He felt the warmth in his hands grow, ready to latch onto any living thing. He finally clasped onto Kit’s wrist tightly.
She let out a pained yelp before settling into the initial warmth from his hand. Kit soon felt a building heat in her blood as if she had been sitting in hot water for far too long. Then, the heat turned into stinging, like the sensation from hundreds of bee stings all at once. An uncomfortable movement began in her wrist that brought out tired groans. The muscles in her palm began warming uncontrollably. Suddenly, a striking pain hit her thumb as she felt the small, fragile bones move and shape themselves. Kit howled out and gripped Bernard’s coat sleeve.
“You have to stay still…” he muttered through gritted teeth. All his attention was drawn into Kit’s hands. Even his face began pulling closer and closer inwards.
“It burns!” she cried, wanting to pull away. But, Bernard’s grip had locked in. The movement of the bones shifted further to the middle of her hands down to the very fingertips. Kit could feel every nerve light on fire. She shoved her face into his shoulder and wailed hoarsely into him. “Make it stop!”
And it did. As soon as the last bone had set, the pain drifted away and only left a lasting soreness where it once was. There was still heat, no doubt, but only in the muscles. The purple and yellow discoloration faded, and her regular skin color returned. The heat brought comfort like being wrapped in a freshly dried blanket or warming hands over a fireplace. And soon, even the warmth drifted away. Kit pulled her face from Bernard’s shoulder to look down at her hand which appeared as if the accident never happened at all. She looked up at him, not sure what to say. And he found her eyes, half concerned and half relieved. But, he still held on to her hand.
“How does it feel?” Bernard said, finally moving his hand and letting her test for herself. Kit was hesitant on flexing it, sure that if she did all the pain would resurface. However, she tried first with her very fingertips and found her hand completely healed save an aching soreness.
“It feels great. It feels fine,” she said, flexing a bit more. Her face lit up.
“Woah,” Bernard warned, gently bringing her hand back down to her lap. “The bones still need some time to rest and heal. I would take it easy for now.” He quickly conjured a black wrist brace and began slipping her hand in. “Just leave it in here, slip it under your sleeve, and promise me you won’t lift any weights in the next 24 hours.”
Kit smiled, not realizing so until only moments later. She lowered her eyes down to her hand. He still held it. Kit pulled it away and back to her side. Bernard paused, and it all came back to him. The fight that had torn them apart only hours ago. It felt a million miles away. He had meant what he said, wherever it came from inside of him.
“I know I hurt you, Kit,” he said, “I didn’t mean to.” That wasn’t true. He did mean to. She said nothing, staring at the cement. “I don’t know why…I just…” Something burning and cold all at once rose up in his throat and tugged at his heart. He knew if he continued, he’d lose control, whatever that looked like.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. But, he knew it wasn’t enough. Kit knew it wasn’t enough.
In the quiet moment, she pushed herself up to her feet and brushed off her jeans. She glanced at his feet and legs, not able to fully meet eyes.
“Tell Dad I’ll be back soon.” Bernard’s chest sunk. Kit gathered the clock lying on the pavement and returned to Dasher.
“Wait,” he said, getting to his feet, “Where are you going?”
“Europe.”
He knit his brows. “Europe? Kit, you can’t fly a reindeer, and you’re going to hurt yourself again. And I won’t be there to fix you.” She wasn’t listening. He knew it. And he couldn’t just let his friend walk to her deathbed. “Let me go with you.”
His words took him by surprise, and he almost wasn’t sure it was him who said it. Go to Europe? What was he thinking? He could hardly fly a reindeer himself.
“No,” she said, walking back down the sidewalk.
“Please.” It slipped out softly, pleadingly, and from a place Bernard had long since fought against. “Let me be your guide. Just…please.”
She stopped, her back facing him. Bernard stepped forward, his breath clouding the cold air, waiting for anything. He wished more than anything just to see her face.
“Okay,” she barely murmured.
“What?”
Kit turned back, eyes still averted to his feet. She had to force the words out before she changed her mind yet again. Every thought of hers was a see-saw of “yes”s and “no”s. “Okay. You can guide me.”
Bernard’s expression brightened and his shoulders fell comfortably.
“Only because I can’t fly across Europe without being shot down,” she argued, shooting a sharp look at him. “You’re gone as soon as we land. I can handle Father Time myself.”
Bernard smirked, taking a few steps forward and leading Prancer along behind him. “You sound so confident in your ability to negotiate with immortals.”
The edges of her lips pulled up barely, and she pressed the clock to her chest. “Yeah, well, I’ve had pretty good luck so far.”
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