‹ Prequel: Kiss of Life
Innocence Maintained
We Are Given To God
In all his youthfully ignorant bliss, Cheshire had never known there was a time when March was in love with him. Of course he had thought about her at times and wondered if there could be something more, but she had always been the little sister he’d never had, and so there was not a way for him to discern that from passionate love. He trusted her with every secret he’d ever kept, and that night when she had kissed him Cheshire hadn’t even really kissed back. He had been stunned into confusion, into a shocking realization that there would never be anyone more perfect for him than the girl sitting right in front of him. But perfection is relative and Cheshire understood that his and March’s perfection was the kind that could be ruined by even a try at taking it to a different level. It would break his heart to ever lose the girl ,so he’d moved on from that moment towards their life-long friendship. He’d never found in his entire life what he had with March - someone who could make him laugh, someone who didn’t take themselves too seriously, and maybe that was why he had not found another girl with whom he could fall in love. But he didn’t hold it against March and he wasn’t angry, the boy was just waiting for the right person to come along, whoever that might be.
He loved her tart little banter, it always took him right back to those Borderland summers, to the times when they were free and able to live their lives the way they wanted. When losing sleep had nothing to do with their obligations and everything to do with the fun they never wanted to stop having. He immediately got that familiarly joking attitude right back with her, cocking one eyebrow higher than the other and letting that boyishly handsome smile set itself plainly on his face. They could still have been children with all the happiness that flowed between them so easily, not weathered adults like the people they saw in the mirror. ”I’m sorry to disappoint my darling, but I just had to see my Marchy.” He let out a slight chuckle, pulling her into a firm hug because he certainly had missed her. He had missed that bubbly, effervescent personality of hers and almost visibly relaxed inside her grip. It had not been like him to be tense before this war started, before he had been thrown into this hectic mess of blood and death. He needed this - this human contact with someone he innately trusted, and for a moment he wished that things could have been different for them. That March could be the person to hold Cheshire at night and allow him to sleep even for a moment.
He had been too busy lately, had been working 24 hours a day at the hospital and hadn’t allowed himself a break for fear of losing another soldier. A tiny part of Cheshire died when a soldier died on his table or in his hospital and it was slowly eating away at the boy so much so that it showed in the lines on his face. He looked markedly older than his 27 years, the stress and lack of sleep taking its toll on his young body. When he released the girl, the boy looked tired, so tired that it hurt but he smiled and tried to wipe it away so as not to worry his friend. ”Oh no, I’m not too busy right now. Not for you at least.” And he grabbed her hand, leading her almost happily into the small coffee shop that was a few feet away.
Sitting down at a table near the front window, Cheshire stared out into the streets for a moment, watching the girl March had been photographing. He was unusually quiet and distant and it was clear to see that the war had changed Cheshire. He had grown up far too quickly, as they all had and he didn’t even know what to say to his best friend anymore. So he focused on his breathing, trying to clam his shot nerves and looking into his coffee as though he might be able to see the future. Finally he did look over at March with a weak smile, ”So what kind of trouble have you been getting into missy?” He leaned his elbows up in the table, resting his chin in his hands and letting his deep brown eyes rest on her familiar face. They had both changed, that much was for certain.
He didn't want to think about the things that they'd lost anymore - about their blistering childhood turned to dust by a fruitless war, or what they could have been as opposed to what they actually were. He couldn't wonder anymore about how they might have lived in close proximity, with families composed of happy wives and husbands and children, yes, lots of children. And he certainly did not want to admit that when all of this was finished and done with, he would probably go back to Borderland and live alone. He wanted to forget everything and just be left alone because although he seemed outwardly happy in his little hospital world, the fact was that Cheshire was scared as hell that he couldn’t make it work with a girl anymore. The closest he’d been to a female in almost two years was the tight embrace he’d just shared with March, and it was sad to think that the boy might have lost whatever ability there had been within him to cohabitate or even woo a person of the opposite sex. And he was doing this more and more often - getting lost in his own absurd thoughts, because who among them wouldn’t just be able to head back to a normal life when the war was over? It wasn’t like he’d been broken of body or spirit, sure he’d seen his fair share of gruesome things but they’d melt away someday and when that happened then maybe Cheshire would be able to find that nice girl he’d been looking for.
As his mind drifted and with it his eyes away from the girl sitting across from him, Cheshire wondered if this was all there was to the world. Would they just all die fighting this war or would it end with them happily ever after? And even if they did someday return home, would they have to send their children away to fight their own senseless war after they were grown? It seemed as though their parents had just returned home from the first war with Redd when another had broken out, and Cheshire didn’t think that he could face a future for his children that included this kind of mindless violence. But they all had to play their parts, didn’t they? He the careful, caring doctor, her the brash young photographer, and the rest of them out there, just toy soldiers and helpless victims. They weren’t going to get out of this easily like everyone had said at the beginning and they weren’t going to just come home and be okay. But that seemed like light years away from this moment, and hearing a distant sort of clicking sound, Cheshire had to look back at his companion.
He knew it had to be her camera, the boy just did not know why she’d want to take a picture of him. Cheshire had never thought of himself as terribly handsome, although he was cute in his own quirky sort of way. He also didn’t understand why she seemed so sorry she’d done it, although of course he didn’t need her selling it to any magazines for publication. That would be the last thing Cheshire would want, more thrilling images for an ignorant public about the fantastic war they were fighting and supporting. It was a shame really, and the boy didn’t quite know what to believe anymore, about anything really. Knitting his brows and frowning slightly in mock anger at March’s actions, Cheshire leaned back in his chair and shook his head. ”I hope you’re planning on keeping that picture to yourself Miss March Hare, I don’t need nations of women chasing me down after we’ve won this damn thing.” That boyish handsome smile appeared then, breaking through the sadness that had overwhelmed him for a moment. He wondered why March looked so truly sorry, it wasn’t like her to worry about what he thought too much. But Cheshire guessed that his sorry looking state had really gotten to her.
He’d always loved the part of March that was eternally a child. She could brighten any bad mood just by her innocence, and it always seemed to come out at the very best of times. Cheshire did not doubt that the girl had been getting into plenty of things she wasn’t supposed to - it was March’s nature and it had been since they were children. It was the reason why he’d gotten into so much trouble way back when. Just hearing her get so excited about meeting someone new, it just made him remember that this world wasn’t all bad; there were plenty of people out there doing just as much good as they were and those were the ones who were making the difference. He couldn’t sit here wallowing in some kind of self pity when this war was raging around him. Cheshire just needed to suck it up, forget about his own problems and focus more on the task at hand. And what was at hand now was March and her crazy antics. His smile widened when he heard her old nicknames for him. Cheshire had never let anyone else call him Cheshy, except of course for his mother, and he’d forgotten the fact that March had come up with the name ‘Sunny’ for him.
Leaning forward with an almost expectant look, Cheshire pushed his cup of lukewarm coffee out of the way to make room for his arms. ”Wonderland Airmen huh? Did he have any good stories?” He needed to be intrigued now, needed to get his mind off of everything else, at least for the afternoon, and it was promising to be at least a fair one. Glancing out the window once more the boy saw the sun breaking through the dense cloud cover that seemed to keep Wonderropolis in a constantly gloomy state of affairs. Looking at the girl in an almost mischievous way, Cheshire grabbed her hand without a word. The coffee shop was too quiet today, and he needed to be reminded that they were alive and young. Not children, no, but still in the prime of their lives and able to feel that constant stream of emotions that goes along with it. His stream of consciousness was visible as he pulled her out into the street and laughed loudly and tried to make her twirl as if they were dancing. Of course there was no music and it seemed crazy for them to be acting this way, but what else were they supposed to do?! Their world was crumbling around them and the only sense that anything made was to live fully in it as long as they could.
He loved her tart little banter, it always took him right back to those Borderland summers, to the times when they were free and able to live their lives the way they wanted. When losing sleep had nothing to do with their obligations and everything to do with the fun they never wanted to stop having. He immediately got that familiarly joking attitude right back with her, cocking one eyebrow higher than the other and letting that boyishly handsome smile set itself plainly on his face. They could still have been children with all the happiness that flowed between them so easily, not weathered adults like the people they saw in the mirror. ”I’m sorry to disappoint my darling, but I just had to see my Marchy.” He let out a slight chuckle, pulling her into a firm hug because he certainly had missed her. He had missed that bubbly, effervescent personality of hers and almost visibly relaxed inside her grip. It had not been like him to be tense before this war started, before he had been thrown into this hectic mess of blood and death. He needed this - this human contact with someone he innately trusted, and for a moment he wished that things could have been different for them. That March could be the person to hold Cheshire at night and allow him to sleep even for a moment.
He had been too busy lately, had been working 24 hours a day at the hospital and hadn’t allowed himself a break for fear of losing another soldier. A tiny part of Cheshire died when a soldier died on his table or in his hospital and it was slowly eating away at the boy so much so that it showed in the lines on his face. He looked markedly older than his 27 years, the stress and lack of sleep taking its toll on his young body. When he released the girl, the boy looked tired, so tired that it hurt but he smiled and tried to wipe it away so as not to worry his friend. ”Oh no, I’m not too busy right now. Not for you at least.” And he grabbed her hand, leading her almost happily into the small coffee shop that was a few feet away.
Sitting down at a table near the front window, Cheshire stared out into the streets for a moment, watching the girl March had been photographing. He was unusually quiet and distant and it was clear to see that the war had changed Cheshire. He had grown up far too quickly, as they all had and he didn’t even know what to say to his best friend anymore. So he focused on his breathing, trying to clam his shot nerves and looking into his coffee as though he might be able to see the future. Finally he did look over at March with a weak smile, ”So what kind of trouble have you been getting into missy?” He leaned his elbows up in the table, resting his chin in his hands and letting his deep brown eyes rest on her familiar face. They had both changed, that much was for certain.
He didn't want to think about the things that they'd lost anymore - about their blistering childhood turned to dust by a fruitless war, or what they could have been as opposed to what they actually were. He couldn't wonder anymore about how they might have lived in close proximity, with families composed of happy wives and husbands and children, yes, lots of children. And he certainly did not want to admit that when all of this was finished and done with, he would probably go back to Borderland and live alone. He wanted to forget everything and just be left alone because although he seemed outwardly happy in his little hospital world, the fact was that Cheshire was scared as hell that he couldn’t make it work with a girl anymore. The closest he’d been to a female in almost two years was the tight embrace he’d just shared with March, and it was sad to think that the boy might have lost whatever ability there had been within him to cohabitate or even woo a person of the opposite sex. And he was doing this more and more often - getting lost in his own absurd thoughts, because who among them wouldn’t just be able to head back to a normal life when the war was over? It wasn’t like he’d been broken of body or spirit, sure he’d seen his fair share of gruesome things but they’d melt away someday and when that happened then maybe Cheshire would be able to find that nice girl he’d been looking for.
As his mind drifted and with it his eyes away from the girl sitting across from him, Cheshire wondered if this was all there was to the world. Would they just all die fighting this war or would it end with them happily ever after? And even if they did someday return home, would they have to send their children away to fight their own senseless war after they were grown? It seemed as though their parents had just returned home from the first war with Redd when another had broken out, and Cheshire didn’t think that he could face a future for his children that included this kind of mindless violence. But they all had to play their parts, didn’t they? He the careful, caring doctor, her the brash young photographer, and the rest of them out there, just toy soldiers and helpless victims. They weren’t going to get out of this easily like everyone had said at the beginning and they weren’t going to just come home and be okay. But that seemed like light years away from this moment, and hearing a distant sort of clicking sound, Cheshire had to look back at his companion.
He knew it had to be her camera, the boy just did not know why she’d want to take a picture of him. Cheshire had never thought of himself as terribly handsome, although he was cute in his own quirky sort of way. He also didn’t understand why she seemed so sorry she’d done it, although of course he didn’t need her selling it to any magazines for publication. That would be the last thing Cheshire would want, more thrilling images for an ignorant public about the fantastic war they were fighting and supporting. It was a shame really, and the boy didn’t quite know what to believe anymore, about anything really. Knitting his brows and frowning slightly in mock anger at March’s actions, Cheshire leaned back in his chair and shook his head. ”I hope you’re planning on keeping that picture to yourself Miss March Hare, I don’t need nations of women chasing me down after we’ve won this damn thing.” That boyish handsome smile appeared then, breaking through the sadness that had overwhelmed him for a moment. He wondered why March looked so truly sorry, it wasn’t like her to worry about what he thought too much. But Cheshire guessed that his sorry looking state had really gotten to her.
He’d always loved the part of March that was eternally a child. She could brighten any bad mood just by her innocence, and it always seemed to come out at the very best of times. Cheshire did not doubt that the girl had been getting into plenty of things she wasn’t supposed to - it was March’s nature and it had been since they were children. It was the reason why he’d gotten into so much trouble way back when. Just hearing her get so excited about meeting someone new, it just made him remember that this world wasn’t all bad; there were plenty of people out there doing just as much good as they were and those were the ones who were making the difference. He couldn’t sit here wallowing in some kind of self pity when this war was raging around him. Cheshire just needed to suck it up, forget about his own problems and focus more on the task at hand. And what was at hand now was March and her crazy antics. His smile widened when he heard her old nicknames for him. Cheshire had never let anyone else call him Cheshy, except of course for his mother, and he’d forgotten the fact that March had come up with the name ‘Sunny’ for him.
Leaning forward with an almost expectant look, Cheshire pushed his cup of lukewarm coffee out of the way to make room for his arms. ”Wonderland Airmen huh? Did he have any good stories?” He needed to be intrigued now, needed to get his mind off of everything else, at least for the afternoon, and it was promising to be at least a fair one. Glancing out the window once more the boy saw the sun breaking through the dense cloud cover that seemed to keep Wonderropolis in a constantly gloomy state of affairs. Looking at the girl in an almost mischievous way, Cheshire grabbed her hand without a word. The coffee shop was too quiet today, and he needed to be reminded that they were alive and young. Not children, no, but still in the prime of their lives and able to feel that constant stream of emotions that goes along with it. His stream of consciousness was visible as he pulled her out into the street and laughed loudly and tried to make her twirl as if they were dancing. Of course there was no music and it seemed crazy for them to be acting this way, but what else were they supposed to do?! Their world was crumbling around them and the only sense that anything made was to live fully in it as long as they could.