To find ourselves lost here within we need the reasons why

So we take this bridge with the others that will thrive in the great divide

Look at the red, red changes in the sky

***
 

Kris and Tao walk for the next few days straight, though mostly confining their travels to the night where the air is crisp and the sand cannot burn their feet. During the day, they find refuge in the left over ruins that scatter the land, braving sandstorms and the beating of the sun.

Tao realises quickly that Kris doesn’t seem to be faring well. The mixture of dust and sand in the air batters his form, and Tao can see he’s definitely not dressed appropriately for such conditions.

With thick black jeans covering his long, slender legs and loose business shirt, the sand can get in underneath his fingernails, under the clothing and scratch his skin. The jeans make it harder for him to trudge along, and he stumbles often, holding onto Tao for balance.

But to no avail.

After a particularly nasty fall, Tao rests a hand on his shoulder, pointing to one particular sand dune that seems slightly taller than the rest. With the angle of the sun in the sky, it can give them little relief, however it’s better than nothing, Tao reasons.

He leads Kris over, pushing him down on the sandy ground. He traces a single word in the sand, and Kris nods with a sigh.

Rest.

Tao sits beside Kris, peeling away at the makeshift bandage. The cuts seem to have worsened, and Tao can see Kris’ blood is not clotting as it should; a mixture of heat and constant movement prevents him from healing. Kris looks down at it and hisses, tears rolling down his eyes.

Tao knows the blonde is trying to be strong. Trying to be strong for him.

Kris’ lips are dry and he’s much paler than before, and Tao realises just how little time Kris might have left, but he doesn’t want to leave him behind, despite his brain’s protests. Tao knows he will have a better chance of survival if he gets up in the night, while Kris is still asleep; if he abandons him out here in the sand.

But Tao’s heart tells him no.

He can’t leave Kris to die alone. Not out here, not ever.

So Tao spits a little of his saliva onto his hand and rubs it into the sides of the cuts carefully, removing some of the pus and blood from the outer edges. Kris leans back and makes a choking sound, but Tao continues, until the cuts are as clean as he can get them. He cuts another piece of fabric off his clothing and replaces the other, first dusting off any excess sand that could hurt Kris.

Tao waits until the sun is peaking over the sand dune before he instructs Kris that they should move, a mixture of hand and eye gestures. Neither of them can speak out here, and as they walk Tao occasionally wonders what Kris’ voice sounds like. Would it be high pitched or deep? Would it be soft, or strong, warm or cold? One thing Tao knows for certain, it would be a musical voice. Fresh, smooth and calming.

When night falls, Tao squints off into the distance. He thinks he’s imagining things, but he’s certain those things in the sky obscuring his view of the stars are rain clouds. He taps Kris on the shoulder, pointing upwards. Kris lets out a sigh, and Tao somehow understands exactly what he’s thinking.

Kris doesn’t think he can make it.

And just like that, the blonde falls to his knees, dropping Tao’s pole as he does so. Exhaustion has finally taken over, and Kris can no longer move.

Tao watches as his pole slides down a sand dune, how Kris has given up all hope. He shakes his head at the blonde, leaning over and taking his arm, lifting the blonde so that he’s perched on Tao’s back. Kris is much lighter than Tao expected, and Tao silently chastises himself for not thinking of this sooner.

Although it will drain his energy much faster, Tao thinks he’ll be able to make it just on adrenaline from here on out.

And something else. Some strange feeling that he’s never felt before for a person, but something that Kris has brought out in him.

Tao cannot place it, but he knows it is a strong emotion. A strong emotion that only Kris has ever made him feel.

Kris squirms on Tao’s back, digging into Tao’s sides in protest, as if he understands that by helping him Tao is throwing away his own life. But Tao ignores him and trudges on, his knees buckling every now and then, when the slope becomes too inclined or the sand whips up violently around them.

Kris can hear a rumbling sound in the distance, and every now and then flashing lights fill the sky. The sounds seem to be coming closer and closer, and Kris opens his mouth expectantly as the first few drops of rain hit the sand. He sticks his tongue out, savoring the crystal water droplets that hit his broken form. Tao places him down on the ground and removes the bandage, letting the water clean and soothe the wound. Kris gasps, feeling completely renewed and revitalized.

When Kris sees Tao smile at him, his heart begins to race. Tao rolls around in the sand, relishing as the water hits his body, a gentle yet familiar soft sting on his skin. Tao’s hair sticks to his forehead as he rolls once more, lying down next to Kris. He holds his mouth open and swallows as much of the rainwater as he can, eyes fluttering closed as clothing sticks to his lean form. Kris touches Tao on the nose, and drags his head onto Kris’ lap.

When Tao starts to breathe lightly, Kris realises the dark-haired boy has fallen back into slumber. With no way forward, he lets the boy sleep, his lips curled into a smile. When Kris has slept, Tao has always kept watch, and he hasn’t been treating himself properly, instead putting Kris’ life before his own. Kris regrets this, so he lets the boy sleep in his arms, if only for an hour.






How long was I out?

Tao traces the words in the sand with his finger, and Kris responds by holding up two fingers. Two hours, Tao has been asleep. Two hours where they should have been walking. It is nightfall, after all.

We need to move.

Kris shakes his head at Tao, using his long, slender fingers to write a message of his own.

You need rest as much as I do. You are no machine, Zitao.

Tao gives Kris a weary smile, pressing his palms to the hardened sand to push himself up. He takes Kris’ arm and wraps it around his shoulder, picking him up once again. Kris finds the pole in his hand and he uses it to write out one final message before they’re off.

Your smile is beautiful. Please smile more for me.

Tao nods, taking the pole from Kris.

If it will raise your spirits, anything for you Wufan.

Dawn has almost come, and Tao wants to put in as much distance as he possibly can while he can still see the stars above, lighting his way. He thinks he can see the mountain now, just a speck on the horizon. If he walks quick enough, with Kris on his shoulders through the staunching heat, he should be able to get them both to the base of the mountain by nightfall, where they can rest a little.

Kris seems much better today, his wound is not streaming pus and his eyes have more life to them, possibly because of the gentle rain. The environment is better from it also; the sand is more closely packed together for the duration of the morning, until the sun dries it up as it was before. Tao makes a lot of ground when the sand is wet as it provides a more solid foundation for him to walk.

The sun beats down overhead, and Tao feels himself weaken. Kris seems to sense this, and he peels himself off Tao’s back, using the pole once again to help him steady himself, walking with one hindered leg. Kris lets Tao rest his head on his shoulder, and soon he finds himself half-dragging the dark-haired boy up and down the sand dunes that surround them.

Tao needs something to eat, a source of energy. Without this, Tao cannot survive the night; he’s used up too much of his stamina keeping Kris alive, and Kris feels overwhelmingly guilty because of it.

Tao could die because of him.

It is when Tao collapses that Kris realises just how exhausted Tao really is. He stops, picking Tao off the ground. He drags Tao on until he finds a small refuge, perhaps a cave in the sifting sand, with a hard roof and a cooler exterior, perhaps made by whatever occupied this place so long ago.

Here is where he finds pots of some sort, pots filled with what could be an onion or vegetable preserve of sorts. Kris sticks a finger in, letting the gelatinous mixture roll between his thumb and index finger. He takes his fingers up to his mouth, sighing as the cool hits his tongue.

It’s edible, of that he’s certain. Whatever must have left it here knew how to store foods properly, and the substance returns to him some of his strength. He drags himself across the floor, looking for more pots. There are several, and it takes all his strength to bring two to his side, one for him and one for Tao. He scoops up the substance with his hands, holding them to his mouth and almost inhaling it in his excitement. There is no need for cutlery out here, and no one to tell him otherwise.

Not too much later, Tao awakens, dark eyes fluttering open. He blinks as Kris holds a jar out to him, gesturing to the substance with his hands. But Tao is weak, he can barely move. Kris sighs, pushing a strand of hair back as he scoops it up and holds his hands close to Tao’s face, until Tao a little off the end of Kris’ finger. Kris wishes he could talk to the boy, however this seems impossible in this strange land. He wishes he could hear Tao’s voice.

But Kris resolves that hearing Tao’s steady breath is enough for now. He props himself up with the pole as night falls, and picks Tao up into his arms. Tao looks everything a broken doll, his face pale and ashen and Kris rubs his hands into Tao’s cheeks in an attempt to bring back colour. It is Kris that must be the strong one now, his leg much better than before. It is Kris that must be Tao’s support through this harsh environment.

Soon, Kris notices that the mountain is a lot closer than he had first expected, its light illuminating the whole area. They are yet to climb it, but they are certainly very close.

Closer than Kris thought they’d ever be.

***