You Should Know [Complete]

Duke

Blood. The flash of a sword. A body hitting the ground. Over, and over and over. Only in Duke's restless, fevered sleep, the outcome was different. In this dream, Amira didn't live. She died a painful, bloody death at his own hand. He was her murderer. Everything faded to back. Now Duke was in an unfamiliar room, accompanied by faceless people he'd never seen before. What the hell was he doing there? Where was he? One of the figures turned to him, and said something Duke couldn't really understand. He opened his mouth to ask them to repeat whatever it was they had said, but nothing came out. Duke quickly came to realize why: he had no tongue. He was an Avox. A now nameless nobody being punished for what he'd done, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Duke groaned softly and rolled over. He was immediately met with a sharp, throbbing pain. What was...? Duke opened eyes only to find that he hadn't gone anywhere. He was in his own living room, in his own house, in District One. God, that dream had been so...so real. Duke went to run a hand though his hair, but his body protested. His damn shoulder. It had taken twenty-one stitches in total to patch that up. Not to mention the twelve that were holding the gash on his arm shut. But it wasn't just his arm though. Duke's entire body was aching as a result of the events two days ago. He was still in shock, thinking about what he had done. As it had happened in his dream, Amira should be dead right now. But she wasn't. As far as Duke knew, Amira was sitting pretty in some hospital, surrounded by nurses gushing over how strong she was and how lucky she had been as to make it out of surgery alive. Ha. Amira was lucky he'd gone for help. If he hadn't, she would be six feet under right now. So really, if you thought of it that way, he was the one who'd save her. Sure, he'd had to practically kill her to make that sort of claim, but in the end, he'd made the right decision, hadn't he? Whatever got him to sleep at night. Not that he had been doing much of that. There was way too much to think about lately, and it wasn't like he had much to do anyway, seeing that he couldn't train with this arm of his. Visiting Amira in the hospital was one of the things that often crossed his mind.

He wasn't sure how Amira would react if he did finally get up the courage to drop by. She would want answers. Answers about everything that Duke wasn't ready to talk about. She'd want to know why he'd decided to leave her in the first place. That was something Duke was still grappling with. He had no idea why at triggered him to make that decision, it had been that rash. Originally, when he'd thought back to that moment, when he'd actually decided to end it all, Duke had thought it had been Mrs. Shipiro's fault. When he'd lashed out at her, that feeling of pride Duke had felt when she'd been so terribly hurt had given him an adrenaline rush, and for the past month, that had been what he'd been telling himself, trying to make it sound all the more innocent. But for two days now, Duke had been going deeper than that, and had come to realize that leaving Amira had been something he'd wanted since the beginning. He had never been in a committed relationship before her, and to be perfectly honestly, Duke was scared of entering one. Training was his one true love, and always would be. So, he'd dumped Amira and all her extra baggage, in hopes of finding something he'd already known. Yeah, like she would understand that.

Duke sighed heavily. Explaining anything to Amira at this point would be hard, he knew that. Especially if she expected him to tell her exactly why he couldn't love her; to elaborate. But that was something that Duke just couldn't do. He did love Amira. Kissing her had been the wrong thing to do, and just solidified any remaining feelings he still had for her. Plus, he'd lead her on, in a time when she had needed someone to trust more than anything. Was that fair? No. No it wasn't, but Duke knew what he had to do to make things right.

Heaving himself off the couch, Duke shuffled into the kitchen. As he made his was toward the island, Duke felt himself lingering in front of a certain drawer in particular. After staring it for several seconds, Duke just couldn't resist pulling the drawer open, and continue to stare at what he knew was going to be there. His mothers finer knives lined neatly in a row. All but one, being the largest one was missing. Duke didn't even know what had become of that knife. Last he saw it, it was still over at Amira's. Or embedded in Mr. Shipiro's chest. Thinking about his death didn't bring the same rush it once had. Several days ago, he would have done the same thing, and got an absolute high just by seeing that empty space. Now he felt...nothing. He was the one with the empty space. Closing the drawer, Duke pulled open it's neighbor and rummaged around for a pen, and scribbled a hasty note to his parents. Didn't know when he was going to be home and don't wait for him supper wise. Planting it somewhere he knew they'd see it, Duke made his was toward the door, praying he didn't change his mind on the way there.

Making it out the front door was the easy part. Getting to the end of the street? Not so bad. Entering the hospital and asking the woman at the front desk for Amira's room number wasn't that hard either. Nor was pushing an elevator button and walking down a hallway. Knocking on the door though? That made Duke go weak at the knees. After several rather stressful minutes of contemplation, Duke finally came to the conclusion that it was best just to get this whole damn thing over with. It would be easier that way. Knocking lightly on the door, Duke didn't even wait for Amira to say anything before stepping inside. With any luck, she'd be sleeping, and he could just turn around again. Amira didn't have to know he'd cared enough to pay her a visit, and his conscious would be clear. But of course, fate just didn't work that way. Amira was...well frankly, Duke wasn't sure what Amira was doing. Hiding under blankets, was what it looked like. "What the hell are you doing?" Maybe this visit was going to be a lot more colourful than he'd originally thought.

Duke

Alright, so maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. Amira was still in a...fragile state and didn't appear to be herself. Hiding under the blankets? Afraid? That just wasn't Amira. Unless, Duke thought. This is how she is now. After being though excess amounts of trauma, she's finally gone over the edge. He'd screwed her over for life. Like Duke really needed any more guilt.

Shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to another, Duke jammed his hands in his pockets, and looked anywhere but Amira. He hadn't thought of this part. Getting off his couch and coming to the hospital had seemed so easy at the time, but Duke had completely forgotten to consider what it would be like facing her; seeing her face. Although Duke had run this scenario over in his mind many, many times, but not once had he ever thought Amira would be scared. As he thought about it more, why shouldn't she be? He had almost killed her, and now she thought she was back to finished the job. That pained Duke. "No," he said, glancing up at her. Amira was peering over the edge of the sheets. She looked so terrified, so weak. And it was all his fault. Sighing heavily, Duke hesitantly made his way closer to her bed. He didn't know what he was going to say really. Here Duke had come with the full intention of making things right with Amira, and he had no idea what he was going to say, let alone what Amira as going to make of it. He was too proud to admit he was wrong, nor did he plan to offer up any sort of apology for a fight she'd been 100% involved in. What did that leave him? "Amira, uh..." Before he could continue, or even think about what he was going to say next, Amira interrupted.

Choking back a sob, now she was questioning his intent; why he was here. Why was he here really? So recently had he told her she was someone he couldn't love, and he'd been expecting her to forgive him, in a way, for pretty well killing her? What was that? "Hey, no, shhh. Shhh, it's okay." he soothed, reaching out and brushing her hair off her forehead. Though it was a gutsy move, one his shoulder protested, Amira needed comforting right now. He might not be her ideal person to do that sort of comforting, but from the looks of it, he was all she had. Duke didn't see anyone else in there, sitting beside Amira, holding her hand, telling her it was alright. If she didn't want to take him back, then fine. That was her problem.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I did enough of that already. I just...I just want you to listen." Duke glanced down at Amira's trembling hands. He felt so bad for causing her such mental trauma, that it wasn't even a second thought when he took one of her hands into his own as he continued on. "I've been to hell in back these past few days. I-I didn't know if you were alive, and although I know that shouldn't have bothered me, but it did." Duke sighed again. Why was he doing this, again? Putting both their hearts though turmoil, only to change his mind again days later. Amira probably thought he was leading her on. In a way, he had been. Still was. Telling her he didn't love her when obviously, his heart had a different idea. "I don't want to continue on like this, leading you on. That's not fair to the both of us. I want..." Duke's voice trailed off. How could he put into words what he wanted? It was impossible. "I want us to be friends, Amira. I like you. We made...we made a great team the two of us. I'm...sorry I had to go and ruin that. But it was for the best." Yeah, I'm also sorry I'm almost killed you. "How're you doing anyway? I'm...really sorry for...hurting you like that. But," Duke paused. Wincing, he rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal the jagged line of stitches stretching from the edge of his shoulder to halfway down his arm. "I guess we're kinda even." Well no. No, they weren't even close to being even. He still owed her many, many things. Most of which, would never be repaid. "Okay, so maybe not. And I said I was sorry. I'm also sorry for...kissing you. That was...yeah. That was stupid. I'm sorry." Though apologies were hardly worth as much as Amira's life, Duke felt as though he was getting somewhere with her. But of course, feeling wasn't always the same as knowing.

Duke

She was still scared of him. Scared to death that he was going to hurt her. That scared Duke immensely. Was he really that intimating? Probably, to Amira at least. He'd almost killed her. Then kissed her, told her he couldn't love her yet still made it a point to visit her bedside. Who the hell did he think he was? No wonder Amira was pissed, with all these mind games. And how was she doing? The worst she had been in awhile. Duke really couldn't blame her. "Dammit, Amira. Why does...I'm so sorry." When dad hurt me, he never told me he loved me, so there was never anything to worry about losing. Duke pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He was so confused, and hurt and just felt sick in general. And he deserved every bit of it, doing what he had to her.

"As for the kiss, don't worry about it. It meant nothing, right?" Nothing? Was that what he was to her now? Nothing? Duke stood. "No. No it wasn't nothing! It was everything! Because I'm an idiot." he yelled, walking to the window. Why did everyone else in the world get to have perfectly happy relationships? No drama, no hatred, just love. Because, said that damn nagging voice in his head. Careers can't fall in love. Yes they could.

Duke could hear Amira sobbing softly behind him as she continued on. When he was a victor. Yeah right. "But you're wrong Amira." he said turning. "Because I don't want to be a victor anymore. Had that just come out of his mouth? He didn't want to be a victor? What the hell? "But you are stupid," Duke walked back to her bedside. "Because you can't see that I actually do love you." How was his shoulder? "It hurts. A lot. But I wouldn't change that for a second, because this little bit of pain is nothing compared to what I did to you."

But Amira wasn't listening. At least, not to him. That morphling must have been quite the stuff, causing her to hallucinate the way she was now, sobbing and talking to someone that wasn't there. Though he couldn't be sure, Duke knew it was her father. "Amira?" he asked, stroking her hair. "It's just the morphling, sweetheart. You're gonna be alright. When the nurse comes I'll get her to look at you. But I promise, there's nothing wrong. There's nobody here but me, and I'm not going to hurt you..." Duke's voice trailed off. Yeah, but you already did hurt her. "I won't hurt you anymore. Promise." But Amira would need more than just words to assure her. It would take time. Trust wasn't something that came easily, not after what he had done. "You know," Duke said, brushing her hair from her eyes. "I'd kiss you again, but that would just be meaningless though, wouldn't it?"

Duke

"Nah," Duke said. "You're not stupid. I shouldn't have said that. He pat her hand, listening to her go on about what he could have only hoped her still felt. But she was scared. Duke should have seen that coming. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply though his nose. "Amira, I know you're scared. You have every right to be..to be afraid of me. I could have easily killed you." That was the first time he'd actually put into words with her what he had done. Amira knew what had happened, obviously, but actually verbalizing the incident...well that was different.

But it didn't matter how he felt. Duke was only concerned about Amira's thoughts and feelings right now. He on the other hand, could just as easily get over what had happened in the Training Centre as he had gotten over Mr. Shipiro's murder. Amira though, she'd been through excess amounts of trauma in the last month. So when she squeezed his hand, and told him that the kiss had actually meant something to her, Duke couldn't have been happier. "Well I'm glad you feel that way. But I...I understand that it'll take time and stuff, y'know...for you to trust me again. Duke glanced down at his hand, holding Amira's. It was just like it was a month ago. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

And then she was apologizing. Apologizing for what she'd become, all because of him. "No sweetheart, you're wrong," he insisted. "Don't apologize for any of this. You're perfect. You've always been perfect, and I'm so proud of you, Amira." Duke gave her hand another squeeze. She just didn't die, no matter what was thrown at her. Amira had faced death twice in the time Duke had known her, and probably countless other times because of injuries inflicted by her father. She was easily one of the strongest people he'd ever met, and Duke still had a hard time fathoming the fact she was his.

"If you want to kiss me, then do it. No one's stopping you." Duke smiled. "Who says I wanted to kiss you? I just said that I would. If you'd let me." He brushed her hair off her forehead again. "But since you don't care," Duke leaned over Amira's bed. "what the hell. Duke brushed his lips briefly over Amira's. It felt all the more better now, knowing that she still loved him. After a second, he pulled back, and sighed. "We'll go slow. I at least, owe you that."

Duke

Duke smiled. What Amira said was completely true. He could have killed her. Quite easily, in fact, but he hadn't. And that was what mattered. He glanced back at her, only to find she was blushing? Duke smiled again, giving her hand a a squeeze. He debated asking her what she was thinking about, what had made her blush, but before he could, Amira was apologizing about his shoulder. "Don't feel bad. I'm glad it'll leave a scar. If it hadn't left one, I would have been sorry. I don't ever want to forget this," he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "what I did to you. I'm so sorry Amira."

He kissed her again, fingers still entwined with hers. Well, until the nurse barged in. Duke quickly pulled back, blushing scarlet. What the hell was her problem, parading in, unannounced like that? Was Amira's morphling really that important? Okay, scratch that. "Uh, hi," Duke stood, and stepped away from the bed. "I'm uh, Duke. Amira's...friend." He glanced at the kit the nurse was holding. Shoulder throbbing, Duke couldn't help but wonder how much morphling she had in there. "So what is that? Morphling? Uh, Amira was having hallucinations or something earlier. Maybe you should decrease her dose or something."

Duke

Duke gave Amira's hand a squeeze. He could tell she wasn't exactly impressed with the nurse, and the amount of medication she had to receive. He couldn't blame her really. Anything that made you hallucinate that much had to be scary as hell. Especially when her hallucinations involved her father. With that in mind, Duke knew he couldn't let the nurse give her anymore morphling. Standing, he stepped in front of the nurse, blocking her path to the bed. He easily had her by a good five or six inches and eighty or so pounds. But with his shoulder in the condition it was, Duke wasn't sure how much difference that would make.

"I'll take a shot of that," Before waiting for her to reply, Duke reached out and pried the syringe from the nurse's fingers, injecting the morphling into his own arm. His shoulder suddenly felt infinitely better. "Now," Duke said, glancing back at the nurse. "There's nothing else to be done here. Amira's fine. I suggest you leave."