Day 5 Morning

[Belle]

Her breathing ragged, Belle slumped to her knees. A stitch clenched painfully tight in her side, and her head was throbbing hard enough that she thought her skull might split down the middle. The warlock's flames had singed her arms, the price paid for treating her crowbar like an inpromptu bat against a giant fireball.

But it was done. It was over. Relief flooded her, and with it, all the crushing strains of the previous five days, all the ones that she had been holding back through sheer force of will, the ones she needed to keep at bay lest she come apart at the seams.

Well, that was being a little dramatic, she admitted to herself as she slumped forward. Really, she was just exhausted.

The ground was cool, if unyielding. She took a deep breath of the wet stone. Soon, she thought to herself: soon she would be able to sleep in her own bed. Soon - and at this thought her heart beat excitedly at the prospect - she could take a shower. Hell, she'd even settle for just one bowl of sugar-frosted Emper-O's.

Amazing what a few days roughing it could make you appreciate.

"Comfy?" Mickey asked.

"Kind of," Belle answered with a muffled yawn. Dawn crept across the cave floor, the east-facing entrance letting in a long, wan shaft of golden light that warmed her feet. Alas, as tempting as it was to indulge in a few hours of rest, they had to actually return the spirit's possessions before they could go home. That meant at least another day or so of hiking - assuming the island was back to normal.

Damn, she thought, If he can teleport us all the way to this island, why can't he just bring us back to the temple right now?

Sitting upright, Belle stretched her arms above her head, bones popping and muscles aching. "How is everyone?" she asked, casting a furtive look around the cave. Most seemed to have made it out okay, mostly just scrapes and scratches. Though - and her lip twisted at this - the wolf girl hadn't made it.

And the blue haired, maybe-sorta-villain? He didn't seem long for this world, either. The man who had killed her sat beside the prone form of his fallen compatriot. Neither of them seemed to be talking. Perhaps they didn't need to.

Serves them right.

The bitter thought settled, curdled, and began to stink inside her brain. That wasn't nice, a little voice told her.

Fuck nice. They killed me.

And Link had killed the robot. But so what? That guy had had it out for Mickey from the very start. He'd tried to cut the mouse in half with a CHAINSAW, of all things. They had just been defending themselves.

Still, the man on the floor continued to bleed, and that ugly sensation twisting her gut refused to go away.

Taking a shaky breath, Belle stood. Ignoring the questions of her companions, she walked over to the place where the warlock had finally fallen. Not much remained - even the dust seemed to have evaporated away. A demon - an honest to capital-G God-damned demon. She had not seen that coming.

Belle nudged the pile of empty robes with her foot. When she was satisfied it wasn't booby-trapped, she knelt, starting to tear long, wide strips out of it. The skirt was several feet shorter by the time she was done.

Piling the strips together, Belle picked them up and marched to the injured pair. The man looked up as she approached, his yellow eyes boring into her. There was something deeply unsettling about them - and it wasn't just the vertically slitted pupils.

She steeled herself, but he said nothing.

Belle set the improvised bandages down in front of them. This close, looking at the wound, she only just now realized how token the gesture was. She winced.

The eyes continued to stare, eyes with weight, ones that had seen everything the world had to offer and came away wanting. Finally, they twitched, and the man inclined his head in a barely perceptible nod.

"Sorry," she said, and started to turn away.

"Thanks," the man said at last.

Belle paused, took a breath, then nodded herself.

"Not that I'm complaining," he continued, "but you are aware your shirt is open?"

She felt her cheeks burn. Some of that nasty feeling was back. "Yeah. Funny thing about that," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "My friends did it when they were trying to get my heart started again. Apparently, someone tried to kill me." She shot daggers at him with her eyes.

"Ah. Well." The yellow orbs narrowed in amusement. "In my defense: you got better."

She held his gaze for as long as she could before finally tearing away. "Ugh. Whatever," she muttered, and stalked back to the group.

Well, that was awkward.

"What was that? Are you alright?" Blue asked as she returned.

"It wasn't anything. It's fine," Belle assured him. She picked at the torn scraps of her top. She had been too preoccupied with everything that was going on, what with coming back from the dead and all, to worry about modesty. Now that it had been called out, however, she really felt like something should be done.

Sliding off her jacket, Belle started to peel off her shirt. The boys reddened and turned away, and she rolled her eyes before spotting Link. "You, too," she told the Hylian, who seemed preoccupied with examining the box.

Link managed an expression somewhere between resignation and exasperation before doing as asked. Belle picked up the remainder of the warlock's robes, shook them out, then pulled them over her head. With the strips she had torn out of the bottom hem, it came to just past her knees.

"Done," she said. They turned back around.

"Belle!" Mickey blurted, his eyes wide. "Careful! That could be cursed!"

"I don't know," she said, adjusting the shoulders. "It seems okay. Apart from smelling like ass."

"I thought he was a goat," Mickey said, his brows furrowed.

Belle put her face in a hand and rubbed her eyes. "Right."