Aria strode through the quiet nighttime streets, a bag bulging with food cradled in her arms. A rare stroke of luck had come her way—she'd intervened when she stumbled upon a vendor faced with an unruly customer. The old vendor was a kind one. She didn't let her leave until she accepted the bag.

Moreover, the vendor hadn't held back. The bag would keep her stomach full for a few days if she did well keeping the bugs away. She'd need to be strategic about what order she ate everything in so nothing went bad though. As she navigated the dimly lit streets, Aria felt a glimmer of contentment knowing that she wouldn't have to worry about food for a while.

The simple act of kindness uplifted Aria's spirits; a rare smile on her lips. Her head had been throbbing lately, a consequence of not eating enough. It was hard to get food with no money and she wasn't hungry enough to steal. The woods provided her enough to keep starvation at bay.

Under the veil of darkness, she made her way back to her camp, footsteps silent on the soft earth. She moved silently, her steps practiced and deliberate. As she approached the edge of the woods, she spotted a young man lying unconscious on the forest floor. His clothes were torn, and he looked battered and bruised.

He was familiar, she realized, staring at him. That kid's brother. Zayd.

It's safer to leave him, she thought as she knelt beside him, checking his pulse and breathing.

She shook him, trying to rouse him from his unconsciousness. "Hey, wake up," she said softly, her voice a mere whisper. He didn't stir, but she expected as much judging by the state of him.

With a deep breath, Aria slid one arm beneath his shoulders and carefully lifted his upper body, struggling with his weight. She grimaced, feeling the strain on her muscles as she half-dragged, half-carried him. Every step was a challenge, the forest floor uneven beneath her feet. She really did need to work on getting stronger.

Gritting her teeth, Aria focused on the path ahead. Leaves rustled beneath their feet as she maneuvered through the dense woods. The weight of the young man slowed her down, but she pressed on, determination fueling her steps. Branches snagged at her clothes, and twigs snapped under the strain of their passage.

When she was back in her camp, she worked the tent open and lowered the young man onto the sleeping bag as gently as she could, her breaths coming in heavy from the effort. She wiped the sweat from her brow.

Setting the food aside, Aria quickly set about making him as comfortable as possible. As Aria tended to the unconscious young man, her eyes flickered over his features. His dark hair was tousled, and his skin, though marred by dirt and scratches, bore a warm undertone.

"Sorry," she said, divesting him of his jacket and pushing up his shirt. "I'll buy you dinner after."

She grabbed her backpack, pulling out the limited medical supplies she'd gotten her hands on. Carefully, Aria cleaned the wound on the young man's chest, her hands steady despite the adrenaline that still coursed through her veins. The gash wasn't as deep as she had initially feared. It was a wound she could manage.

Practiced hands threaded a needle with a thin, strong thread. The flickering light of her lantern danced across her focused expression as she began to stitch the wound together. The young man remained still, unconscious and unresponsive to the pain.

Nimble fingers worked swiftly, the tiny, even stitches pulling the skin together. The job was far from professional, but it was enough to close the wound and prevent infection. She kept her gaze fixed on her task, her mind momentarily absorbed in the simple act of sewing.

As she finished the last stitch, she carefully tied off the thread, her eyes flickering up to the young man's face. His features remained relaxed, oblivious to what he had undergone. Aria reached into her small medical kit, carefully pulling out a vial of antiseptic ointment. With gentle fingers, she applied the ointment to the stitched wound on the young man's chest, ensuring that the area was well-coated.

Tenderly, she placed a clean cloth over the stitched wound and secured it with a makeshift bandage. The bruises were fresh and plenty, but there was nothing she could do about that. It looked like the beating was one-sided. A look at his hands would confirm it, but taking his gloves off unnecessarily seemed wrong.

Satisfied with her work, she allowed herself a moment to think.

If he was out here, injured in the middle of the woods, was his little brother okay?

With the immediate danger addressed, she settled back, keeping a watchful eye over him. As the night wore on, Zayd's face twisted in pain. His brows were furrowed, drawn together in a tense and pained arch, while his lips were now pulled into a grimace. There were no painkillers in her bag.

The flickering lantern cast a warm, golden glow around her as she wondered what herbs she could use to help him deal with the pain.

Chamomile, she mused, her thoughts drifting to the small patch she had discovered near the camp the day before. Its delicate flowers could be brewed into tea. It wouldn't just help with the pain, it would help him feel calmer. Then there was willow bark, a natural source of salicin, which had been used for centuries as a pain reliever. 

Real medicine would be far better, but the young man's safety weighed heavily on her mind. She couldn't afford to be away for too long. The forest, though familiar to her, was filled with uncertainties. Every rustle in the leaves, every snap of a twig, could mean danger. A stranger, a soldier, a hunter, an animal. Even if he did wake at the sound, he was in no shape to deal with any of those.

She resolved to venture out just far enough to gather the necessary herbs so she could return quickly to his side. With a last glance at the sleeping young man, she set out into the forest, her senses alert to every sound and movement. She moved swiftly, gathering the herbs she needed with practiced efficiency.

Upon her return, Aria brewed the tea, her hands steady despite her weariness. She gently eased the young man awake, helping him drink it. His eyes fluttered open, pain clouded his gaze.

"Tea," Aria explained softly, anticipating his unspoken question. "It will help with the pain, at least for a little while." The warmth of the herbal infusion worked its magic, and the young man's eyelids grew heavy once more. With a sigh, he succumbed to the gentle pull of sleep, his breathing deepening as he fell into a more peaceful slumber.

Aria left the tent and set to work on a fire to keep warm, sticking close to it throughout the night. Several hours passed, the forest gradually coming to life with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves. The first light of dawn filtered through the trees, casting a soft glow over the campsite.

Aria, ever vigilant, went to check on Zayd after cleaning her hands.

His eyes snapped open before she could get a good look at the bandages. Confusion quickly turned into aggression as he caught her wrist with a gloved hand, his grip surprisingly strong for someone who had just been unconscious. "Who are you? Where am I?" he demanded, his voice rough and laced with anger.

Hopefully, he wouldn't touch her hand. She'd just cleaned them.

"I'm the person who saved your life," Aria said, her tone unwavering. "And you're in my camp."

He was squinting in suspicion and disbelief. "Have we met before this?"

"Yes," Aria debated whether or not it was rude to pry an invalid's fingers off of herself. "When I found you half dead."

He was obviously unsatisfied with the answer. "Why'd you help me?"

"Because you're pretty," she said, and nearly laughed at how quickly he turned red. With a swift, practiced movement, she easily freed her wrist from his grip and continued her work.

His brows furrowed, taken aback by her response. Nothing was done as she peeled back the top of the sleeping bag. "That's not a reason to help someone."

"Maybe not." Aria's attention was back to his wound, her hands deft and efficient as she checked on the stitches, looking for any sign of infection. He fell into a momentary silence, clearly caught off guard by her candid response.

Aria, undeterred, considered the wound. There didn't seem to be anything wrong. No inflammation, no redness. The stitches looked fine. Then again, it was still early. She fixed the bandages back up.

"Don't waste my time. Tell me what you want."

Aria hummed. "You're rude."

"You're avoiding the question."

"I helped you because it was within my ability to help you. It's as simple as that. What I'd like is for you to get out of my hair as soon as you're able."

"Can't you just make me, Aria Iqbal?"

The man really did have an awful attitude. If he didn't look so similar to Zain, Aria would never have believed they were related at all.

Aria smiled. "Now, don't you think it's silly to let on that you recognize me? I might have to kill you so you don't lead anyone back to me."

Aria's words hung heavy in the air, the threat implicit in her tone. She met his gaze, her eyes cold and calculating.

"You're bluffing," he said, though his voice wavered, betraying his uncertainty.

Aria merely shrugged, the smile never leaving her lips. "Am I? If you know who I am, you must have heard about what I'm capable of."

His jaw clenched, frustration and fear battling in his eyes. "Fine," he spat out, conceding to the reality of his predicament. "What do you want from me?"

Aria's expression softened slightly, her gaze studying him intently. "I want you to survive. I want you to stay out of my way and not jeopardize my safety. And then I want you to leave as soon as possible. In return, I'll provide you with what help I can until you're strong enough to leave."

"I don't trust you."

"You don't need to trust me to use me."

Aria wanted to ask him about his little brother, but wasn't willing to let him know they'd met before if he didn't already recognize her. He'd probably be more panicked anyway if the kid was in danger.

Zayd exuded an air of seriousness, his brows furrowed in deep thought. It wasn't strange considering his circumstances - he was in a dead woman's camp and she threatened to kill him. Aria would've been serious in his shoes too.

"Fine."

"Good," she said, remembering the bag of food. It was too heavy to eat so early, but there were some berries she found the day before. "Let's eat. I promised to buy you dinner, but hopefully, breakfast will do."

Zayd didn't say anything, but the blank look on his face somehow gave off the impression that he thought she was crazy.

Aria sat down and grabbed the tin she left the berries in. "How do you know me?" she asked.

"The Elites," he said. "There are complaints about how useful it would've been if some Siren were still alive. I thought they were lying, so I looked into their files. "

So he was one of them. Maybe she really should have left him to die.

"Why didn't you go to them?"

Aria slid the tin his way, keeping a handful for herself. "Why did you?"

That gave him pause - he looked at her like he hadn't expected the question. "I have a little brother."

"The safehouses."

Zayd looked at the berries hesitantly, so Aria popped one of her own into her mouth. Really, did he think she put in all that work just to kill him? "Mm, poison."

He pulled off one of his leather gloves and picked up a berry, hesitantly biting into it. When, shockingly, he didn't drop dead, he finished it and reached for another. "You avoided the question."

"I didn't go to them because I have no desire to be used as a weapon. I can hurt the Republic on my own."

"It's dangerous to work alone."

"It's dangerous to be Enhanced at all. Would you have joined the Elites if you didn't have your brother to protect?"

Zayd shrugged and popped a berry into his mouth. He avoided the question, but the lack of answer told her all she needed to know. No, he wouldn't.

✘

A few days went by.

Aria slept outside near the fire for a few hours at a time, jerking awake at the slightest sound. Sometimes the rustling of the trees or animals close to camp. It was probably too cold to be out there without a sleeping bag, but she wasn't going to take it from Zayd. She'd insisted he keep it and sleep in the tent, saying he'd heal quicker if he was more comfortable. She lied, and said she had something else to sleep with in case he felt bad. He didn't show any signs of guilt though, so it might have been an unnecessary measure.

Zayd wasn't much of a talker, very rarely starting a conversation of his own accord unless he had a question. The camp was usually as quiet as it was before he was there, but Aria appreciated the silent company. Most days, she didn't feel like speaking either.

It seemed he was tired from what had happened to him before Aria discovered him, because most of the time, he lay inside the tent. She asked if he was in pain, but he shook his head and simply said that he was tired. The first few days, she woke him to eat and get himself cleaned up. Eventually, he started to come out on his own and sat with Aria in the mornings while she listened to the radio or thought about her next move.

"Is the bruising better?" she asked, realizing he was moving around more.

"Yeah."

"The wound?"

A shrug.

"Do you think it's getting infected?"

Another shrug.

"Do you need me to check?"

He didn't say anything, but between one moment and the next, his shirt was off.

"This relationship is moving a little too quickly for me."

Color rose to his cheeks.

Zayd was, Aria found, fun to tease. Though he'd just look at her like she was a fool, he couldn't hide the flush of his cheeks. She didn't provoke him further, only sparing him because he was a stranger.

He glared.

"Lay down." 

Aria leaned over him once he had, cleaning her hands with alcohol before taking a look. The flesh around the stitches looked fine. He was healing the way one would expect. He'd be gone soon. It could have been worse, but if he was still in pain, it wasn't something that should be left alone. She thought of her back on days with rain and cold nights. She thought about being left in that cell with her flesh torn open over and over.

Aria was not a healer. She was not a doctor. She was just a woman prone to injury and a fondness for plants. Herbs were useful, but medicine was stronger.

"It looks fine. Just rest here for now."

"Okay."

Aria grabbed her bag, emptied what was already inside, and slung it over her shoulder.

"Iqbal?"

Somehow, Aria understood the unspoken question. She shoved her janky, stolen pocket knife into her pocket. "Going to town."

"You're a fool if you think it's safe to go out there alone," he said.

Aria met his gaze squarely. "And you're a fool if you think I've been hiding in this little camp the whole time."

"What are you going to get?"

Aria bit back the urge to respond. He wouldn't believe the truth - he was suspicious beyond belief. She didn't care enough to dispel him of that. And it wasn't like she trusted him either.

"I'll be back soon."

He didn't say anything more about her leaving, just watched her pull on a cap and a dark mask.

Recognition flickered in his eyes. "You're Sana."

So he hadn't recognized her. Maybe this was a good enough disguise after all.

✘

As the first light of dawn tiptoed across the horizon, Aria moved with deliberate stealth through the silent streets toward the dimly lit clinic. The morning was still young, the world barely stirring from its slumber, affording her the cloak of obscurity she needed.

The clinic's entrance was quiet and seemingly deserted. With a rock, she shattered enough of the glass to stick a hand through and unlock the door without drawing blood.

I need to learn to pick locks.

Inside, shelves laden with medical supplies awaited her. She slipped the few vials and bottles she needed into her satchel and then some, just in case. She stuck a hasty apology note on the door before leaving.

"Honey, I'm home!" Aria sang when she got back to the camp, pushing into the tent with a bag laden with supplies.

Zayd's surprise was palpable. He watched her as she laid out the medicines and bandages she had managed to procure, searching for the bottle of painkillers. She tossed it his way.

"Why did you do this? I could have dealt with the pain."

Aria shrugged. "You're thinking too hard. The sooner you're better, the sooner you can leave. Simple as that."

He stared at her a moment longer, like she was a puzzle and he couldn't get the pieces to fit together. With a shake of his head, he twisted open the bottle and took two of the pills.

As she began sorting through the pilfered supplies, he called her name.

"Iqbal."

"Yes?"

"Why'd you help my brother?"

"Why wouldn't I? I was in a position to."

"What about the second time?"

"He was a lost child," she replied calmly, though her eyes held a glimmer of defiance.

"You're too trusting of strangers."

"I don't trust you," she said, knowing that she likely never would. Trust did not come to her naturally. It was hard to remember a time she fully, truly trusted someone.

Even in the cabin, it wasn't trust. Part of her was always suspicious. How could you trust a group of people, knowing they wanted to use you as a weapon? She did care for them, but she couldn't say she trusted them. There was a time she thought she might be able to eventually, but that was before she saw the fear in Alex's eyes.

Zayd tilted his head. "You've let me stay with you for days. You gave me your sleeping bag, your medicines, you left me free."

"I gave you those so I can be rid of you quicker. I didn't restrain you because you're too weak to manage a decent fight. And I'm armed."

"That toothpick doesn't qualify as a weapon."

"That toothpick was enough to grind your herbs, steal your medicine, and plenty more."

"It's ugly."

"Do I look like I'm in a position to be picky?"

He looked at her clothes in a way that had to be judgmental. "No."

Aria didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended, so she chose neither and continued arranging the supplies with methodical precision. The rest of the day went by swiftly, the hours slipping by unnoticed.

Later, as the radio crackled with their agreed-upon signal, Aria knew that Ian wished to meet.

Tomorrow, she decided. Maybe he would have something for her to work on. Right now, her thoughts kept drifting back to the vague idea of breaking Enhanced out of facilities, but it was unrealistic. She had nowhere for them to stay. Not nearly enough supplies or skills to deal with the sick or the injured. And it was arrogant to think she could manage something of that level on her own.

Even if she had Klaus with her, it would be too big a task to take on alone. With thoughts of Klaus came thoughts of Eli, the feeling of electricity coursing through her. Aria slung an arm over her eyes and exhaled.

In the quiet of the night, Aria finally yielded to sleep long after Zayd had turned in for the night.

Aria woke abruptly, her eyes flickering open to the dim light of dawn seeping through the trees. The chill of the morning air had settled over her, but she was warm. Confused, she realized that Zayd was draping his jacket over her, his indifference evident in his expression.

"I didn't mean to startle you."

"You don't need to do that," Aria murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.

Zayd merely shrugged, his demeanor unchanged. "It's just a jacket," he replied dismissively.

Aria studied him for a moment, her thoughts muddled from waking so suddenly. He seemed different, stronger than he had been just a few days ago.

"I'm leaving," he said abruptly, his tone matter-of-fact. "I've healed well enough these past few days. I hope we never meet again."

Aria couldn't help but find a hint of amusement in his words, despite the gravity of the situation. "Have I told you how charming you are?" she asked, a sardonic smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Zayd's expression remained stoic, and he turned away, clearly uninterested in exchanging pleasantries. Aria watched him, her thoughts drifting to his little brother, the one she had saved from the clutches of the Republic's hunters. She couldn't shake the hope that both of them would find safety in a world that seemed relentlessly hostile.

As he started to walk away, Aria called out, her voice softer this time. "Take care of your brother."

He glanced back at her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Without another word, he disappeared into the forest, leaving Aria alone once more.

Under the dappled light of the forest canopy, Aria worked tirelessly, dismantling her makeshift camp and relocating it to a new, more secluded spot. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound, sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins. The encounter with Zayd had reminded her of the precariousness of her situation. It was a risk she couldn't afford to take.

It took longer than she would have liked to move everything – her shelter, supplies, and the few comforts she had managed to scrounge together. The effort was worth it. The importance of staying hidden, of remaining a ghost in the wilderness, far away from the prying eyes of strangers or, worse, the Republic's soldiers would always be worth it.

With each carefully calculated step, Aria ensured that her traces were erased, leaving behind nothing but the whisper of her presence in the leaves and the breeze. She was adept at blending into the world, using its patterns and rhythms to conceal her movements. It was a skill she had honed out of necessity, a means of survival in a world that hunted the likes of her.

Aria surveyed her new campsite. It was well-hidden, the trees and foliage offering a natural veil of protection. Better than the last area. She settled down, her eyes scanning the surroundings, her senses on high alert. Maybe she was alone, but the forest embraced her, its familiar sounds a comforting melody.

Author's Note

Truthfully, I don't know how I feel about my pacing so far.