Chapter 3: Inviting the Enemy Home

"We're here," Clair said.

Brok looked around and saw trees, rocks, ferns, and even more trees. He crossed his arms wondering where "here" was. The sun was setting in the west faster by the second, which made him uneasy.

"Where are we exactly?" Brok asked. "All I see is more of this stupid jungle!"

She gave him a dirty look while searching for a switch. Clair felt her way around a colossal tree, keeping an eye on the sleg just in case he executed a sneak attack. She found the switch and pushed it. Out of nowhere, a door flew open colliding into Brok. The force almost knocked him face first into the dirt.

"What in the hell!" he shouted.

"Sorry I forgot where the door was at," Clair sarcastically said.

"Yeah right," Brok muttered.

Clair walked over to the open doorway and peeked inside. She wanted to make sure no carnivores accidentally set the switch off and fell down inside. Once everything seemed clear, she walked down the stairway into the darkness. Brok hesitated when he saw her disappear. He still was on edge and wasn't in the mood to mess around.

"Are you coming?" Clair impatiently asked from the darkness.

Brok growled at her and slowly made his way down the stairs. Clair closed the door by another switch at the bottom of the steps. He turned his head and watched the door slam shut. Everything became surrounded by the night instantaneously. The room they stood in barely fit the both of them. Clair tried to move around but couldn't because of the tight squeeze. She flipped a switch, which brightly illuminated the small room. The light stunned Brok for a second and caused him to stumble into the wall. Clair ignored him and searched through every pocket for a set of keys. She couldn't find them and double-checked all the pockets again with no luck.

"Oh no," she softly said.

Brok shook his head from the daze and said, "Let me guess, you lost the key."

"So what if I did," Clair snapped.

He pushed her aside while starting to reload his gun. Clair gazed at the gun knowing exactly how much damage it would do to her door.

"You are not going to shoot my door down," she ordered.

Clair reached for the shotgun but Brok pulled it away from her grasp. He showed some razor sharp teeth at her signaling that there's no way he's stopping. She wasn't very happy with Brok's actions and unveiled her unhappiness by tackling him into the concrete wall. Now there was barely any room to even crawl away.

"That was uncalled for!" Brok yelled.

"Uncalled for my ass!" Clair screeched. "You were going to shoot my door off its hinges!"

Brok became furious. He had enough of her yelling and did something about it. In an instant, Clair was picked up and slammed into the opposite wall of the tiny room. He jumped on her and for the third time that day, tried to threaten her. Brok grabbed Clair by the collar of her shirt and started to scream in her face, "Now you listen to me! I only agreed to come with you to have this wound fixed! It hurts like hell every time I try to move my arm and I would appreciate it if you hurried!"

This time Brok scared her but she wouldn't dare show it to him. Instead she glared and shoved him away.

"Get off of me!" she yelled.

Clair stood up from the floor hastily and faced the door. She kicked it before the adrenaline vanished from her system. The door crashed to the ground without problems. She stormed into the house while turning on a few lights. Clair cursed throughout the entire house while hunting for some medicine.

"That bastard!" she screamed.

"I heard that," Brok said from the other room.

"It was meant to be heard!" Clair yelled back.

He stepped over the fallen door, cautiously entering the house. Brok looked around the living room making sure there was nobody going to ambush him. Once he thought it was safe enough, Brok decided to relax a little. He noticed a few ancient bows and crossbows lined up perfectly next to each other on a table. Brok stared at them in wonder.

"These look very old," he said to himself, resisting the urge to pick one up.

He glanced around the room some more and caught a glimpse of a massive shadow in the far corner. Brok started to panic, pointing his gun at the mysterious shadow. He slowly moved forward, hoping it wasn't dangerous. The shadow became clearer as Brok approached it. It turned out to be a sleeping parasaurolophus curled up in the corner. He backed away from the dinosaur trying to keep his distance just in case it woke up and attacked. Brok turned and saw a few more bows sitting on a coffee table.

"She must be obsessed with those things," Brok thought.

He couldn't resist the urge and picked one up. It was lighter than he thought and also very long. Brok tired to pull back the string just to see what it was like but his arm hurt too much.

"Damn this wound," he said while dropping the bow.

Clair stood behind the wall, watching him fall backward onto the couch. She shook her head and thought, "My house is going to be destroyed by the time he leaves."

She strolled out from behind the wall, holding a dark brown glass bottle in her hand. Brok didn't notice her at first. He lay down onto his stomach while clutching onto the afflicting wound. Clair walked up from behind and gently set her hand on his back to show she was there.

Brok glanced up at her with an evil glare. He saw the glass bottle in her hand and flipped out.

"What is that in your hand?" he quickly asked. "Are you going to torture me?"

"No," Clair said. "I'm not going to do that!"

"Why not?" Brok asked angrily.

"Hey, I'm the killing type," she said. "You would have been dead long before I thought of torture."

He growled and turned his head away from Clair. The thought of not being tortured made him think better of the situation. Brok felt her tug at his armor and looked at Clair as she took it off his arm and set it on the floor.

"Don't do that," he snarled.

"My couch isn't going to be torn apart by those spikes," Clair said. "Take it off now!"

"Not even Tyrannus himself can make me take it off," Brok said.

"Fine," she said.

Clair crawled onto his back to take the other one off. He growled in dissatisfaction and didn't like a human sitting on his back.

"Stop growling at me," Clair said as she tossed the piece of armor on the ground.

"Then get off of my back!" Brok yelled.

She didn't even bother hesitating and jumped off. Clair opened up the glass bottle and quickly poured a small amount of medication onto the wound. Brok didn't expect it so soon, he looked at Clair and growled softly. A couple of seconds later he felt the medicine work its way into his arm. She had a clear idea what was going to happen, so she held both of Brok's arms down.

"Holy shit that burns!" he screamed in pain.

Brok tried to lift his arms up but Clair had a strong hold on him. He closed his eyes while swearing up a storm.

"The pain should subside soon," Clair said.

She felt his arms tense up as the pain grew worse within each minute. Brok clenched his teeth together and grasped onto the cushion. Clair could obviously see how bad it really was once he started to bury his face away from her.

"Try to relax," she calmly said.

He opened his eyes, still looking away from Clair. He slowly relaxed his muscles at the worst of it subsided. Brok felt better afterwards but wouldn't admit it to Clair. It was bad enough he was in her domain. She released his arms and left the room so he could have some personal space for a little while. Once she was gone, Brok rolled over onto his back and stared at the white ceiling, losing himself in deep thought.

"Why is she doing all of this for me?" he thought. "I'm not worth it and I haven't been nice to her at all."

Brok let one leg hang off the side of the couch and started to think some more. He slowly closed his eyes for a second almost falling asleep when Clair came back into the room. He felt her presence and couldn't sleep with her around. Brok wouldn't open his eyes again and faked being asleep.

"I know your still awake," Clair said.

Brok growled after she spoke, telling her to go away.

"Knock it off," she said and threw something soft onto his face.

He picked it up and asked, "Do you want to smother me or something?"

This time Clair growled at him and yelled, "No!"

She turned the light off and stomped into her room, locking the door so Brok couldn't sneak in as easily to kill her. She crawled into bed without changing, very exhausted from the chaotic day.

"What am I going to do now?" she thought. "I can't go back to Ixonia ever again."

Clair covered her face with a pillow, worrying about the next day while drifting off to sleep.