She smiled sweetly as she watched him drift off, drawing the crisp sheet up to his collar bone. "Shell... my name is Shell" her sweet, caring face, and the scent of her perfume would be the last thing he comprehended before the induced sleep took over.<br/><br/>He would of slept dreamlessly, long and interrupted, but he couldn't. It would have been in Shells power to gift him a pleasant sleep to escape this nightmare of his loss, for just a while, but she had been forbiddon. She was to keep him alive... but not completely fix him. He would remember small scenes, distant and unreal, like from a dream he couldn't remember quite clearly.<br/><br/>He lay in his bed, the wounds paining him greatly, mind drifting just into the realm of consciousness, but not enough for him to fully understand what was going on... or for the people present to realize he was anything but asleep.<br/><br/>The woman who had saved him, the one who had been revealed to him as the Headmistress, stood in his room, speaking with Shell. She seemed calm and collected, almost cold, though the reassuring aura of her prescence would still wash along his mind, soothing his troubled sleep.<br/><br/>"He's doing fine Headmistress, though I'm worried for him... his back, its very weak. He'll need crutches if he's to walk, and even then he'll be in pain..."<br/><br/>She seemed completely unaffected by the news of his injuries, simply looking from Shell and to him, as if she could see into his body, scan him through to the deepest fiber. Did she know he could hear them?<br/><br/>"Good... he will need to push on to grow strong again" "But Headmistress, he... if you would allow, I can-" "No Shell. As cruel as it may seem, he has to suffer... right now, we can make it easier for him, but we have to leave him be"<br/><br/>Shell hung her head silently, as if in acceptance. She knew the woman was right.<br/><br/>"The best thing for him is to let him learn to fight. If he must push himself to his feet, fight to put one foot forward, then so be it. If anything, the daily struggle will keep his mind from the incident"<br/><br/>"Yes Headmistress... I understand"<br/><br/>His memory would fade back into the abyss of sleep. When finally he would awaken from his induced rest, the Headmistress was sitting by his bed on a wooden chair, dutifully writing in a blank book. There were several stacks of them next to her as well, all baring the scent of fresh ink, the pages white and new. She had been sitting there several hours, as if she knew his sleep was ending soon.<br/><br/>She knew he was awake now, but did not look up from her book, eyes following the small, spidery print that quickly took the page line by line.<br/><br/>"Your awake"