Chapter Song: Darkhaast from Shivaay

Hanuman was flying as fast as he could, but some things were slow in happening. Even divine things. Nothing dared to slow him down. The wind stopped blowing towards the north, instead moving the opposite direction diligently in order to aid Hanuman. All the stars in the night sky stopped sparkling in order to remove distractions, and the moon, though tired of keeping his overdue shift, shone brighter to illuminate the pathway.

Hanuman flew and flew and flew. He flew this way and that. So he got a little confused sometimes. How was he supposed to know that apparently the way to Lanka wasn't the straight way back? Apparently, the birds in the air hadn't really gotten the Hanuman 1st class Priority mail memo, and they all clouded up the airways.

Hanuman wrestled his way through thousands of bird colonies, a couple of mid-air nests, and even an occasional shopping mall, but eventually ended at a dead end. A wall of clouds blocked his way, and god knew, clouds didn't form that quickly, which meant that he was quite lost. "God," he muttered. "Please get me out of this navigational mess. This is not the time for some lighthearted humor, because Lakshman bhaiyya's heart is slowly growing light on the battlefield. Light, of blood that is."

He kicked the clouds angrily, and they immediately parted. Without another word, Hanuman struck a pose and started flying again. He flew and flew. He did literally nothing but fly. His hair flew. His fur flew. His tail flew. But most importantly: the mountain flew. He thought the expanse of land was never ending, and so grew more sizes till the very limits of expansion stopped him because Hanuman would probably break the earth in half or start some global winds if he grew any more.

To Hanuman (the huge version), seconds meant hours, and hours meant Lakshman bhaiyya dead. It was a simple math equation in his mind. Lakshman Bhaiyya+Herbs=Life. But subtracting herbs from both sides meant Death. He almost related to Lakshman bhaiyya in this situation. Algebra 1 from primary school seemed to prove its worth during the worst times.

----O----

And seconds to desolate Ram meant days. He knew, just knew that Hanuman was surely flying as fast as he could. But couldn't he go just a little faster? Why couldn't the God of Wind simply transport him there? Ram didn't know. But he did know that he'd be wrong to doubt the Gods, who had already done so much for him. So he waited, and watched, waiting for a flying monkey and the promised herbs.

But the sun, bitter ol' Suraj Babu (of Pocket G), felt a little interested to know what was going on. He couldn't see much of what was going on during the nighttime, and wished to see the spectacle of Lord Vishnu's grief for himself. Get in on the Wattpad action. He was a sucker for a good tv show. Darn him if he didn't want to follow the recommendation of the monkey that almost ate him! Where was the victim support counsel when he needed it?

The tentative rays started to peek from around the mountain. Hanuman, focused on flying, could not notice nor spare time. Ram glanced wildly towards the warm yellow that seeped like honey into the pitch of the night. The sun. "Sushenji," Sugriv began warily. "When did you say that time would run out?"

Sushen cleared his throat. "When sunlight first touched his face. Dawn." Angad screeched, and almost flew into the air to give Suraj a good talking to himself, before Nal and Neel, through collective efforts, managed to grab him by the tail and pull him out of the sky before an imminent death by angry-Suraj-engulfing-you (The threat is real- I had a cousin who succumbed to the disease).

There wasn't much to do around the camp. Some of the religious vanars and Jal prayed furiously, lighting wooden candles and gathering around sand-idols of Gods, bowing their heads down. One monkey diligently made a mark on a piece of wood every time a minute passed. Soon, he had to get a new piece of wood, and as soon as Ram caught sight of this, he pressed Lakshman closer to himself, muttering encouragements in his ear.

The leader no longer glanced towards the sky. The only thing his vision was graced with was Lakshman. Lakshman, who normally would have basked under the attention, with color rushing to his fingertips (not ears), and face turning the color of his hair. Now Lakshman was just pale. Pale, lifeless if not for his beating heart and wheezing lungs, blue at the lips, with blood streaking his ribs.

And if only Ram had known. If only he had seen the dark marks that grew in the sallow cheeks and the deep, gory pockmarks on the soles of his feet. With a trembling hand, Ram brushed Lakshman's eyelids with the gentleness of a man touching a baby. "You must give him a will to live," Sushen whispered, as Ram looked up, lips curving down. "A reason to hang on. A soul continues to witness things even as body decays."

"I have already appealed to him," Ram whispered. "I've given him everything to wish for. I've regaled his cooling body with tales of daggers and war and being able to kill all the demons he ever wished for. I've even ordered him. He's never denied an order of mine before." Well once, Ram thought. One time. Ram didn't know what grave thing led to it.

"I want my brother back, more than anything. I want to caress his red hair and I won't ever tease him again and give him everything he wants. I'll never ever make him wear orange again, I'll get coronated as soon as possible, I'll not force him to become a general of war, I'll do anything. Anything." He shook Lakshman desperately. "WAKE UP, na? Wake up for Ram bhaiyya, at least?"

"Lakshman bhaiyya never cared for material possessions," said Nal, with a presence of mind. "He cared for his family. For others. He can fight all the demons he wants in heaven. What will he not find? His loved ones."

Ram stared at him with his empty eyes, before looking down at Lakshman. "Laksh, remember your wife? Urmila, but you sometimes accidentally called her Mila. She's short," Ram smiled, gesturing in the air. "Short like this. She has long black hair that you were enchanted by. You loved her smile and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. You loved making her laugh, though you never knew how you did it You loved how rough her hands were, said you had gotten yourself a tough wife. You stared at her as if you didn't know how she'd married you. Remember Urmila? You have to live for her."

"And Shatrughan. Remember Shatru? You have a twin brother, Shatrughan, your only younger brother. He has red hair just like you, but longer. You'd never admit it, but you loved him. Everything about him. His pranks, and his teasing, and even his flirting. You'd silently admit to me that flirting completed his character. You loved how he was short of hearing, and the way his laughter would turn into wheezing, and how he refused to call you bhaiyya. You have to live for him."

"Bharat bhaiyya, remember him? He'd always goad you into art and force you to read scriptures with him. You called him Dickens ke chamche when you were younger. Bharat loved you too, so much. You'd take the blame for him when he got into trouble, rarely. You never believed that he could love anything more than me, which is why you were so hurt when you thought-" Ram choked slightly. "You loved how his hands could flow so easily. You called him a swordsman of the canvas. You-you kept on stealing his characterisms and copied whatever he did, if only subconsciously. You must live for him."

"Remember Maa Sumitra?" Ram whispered. "Your mother? You'd never betray any promise made to her. You thought her hands were soft like rice. You'd only eat for her hand when you were a baby. You loved her singing voice and would fall asleep to it. She wants to do that again, if only you'd let her,"

Ram picked up Lakshman's hand and rubbed it slightly. "And Sita? You called her 'Maa', because in your mind, only she could match up to Maa Sumitra. You'd sweep the floors of burrs so that she wouldn't get hurt. You thought that your Maa cooked better than any royal cook in the palace. You'd do everything for her. You loved her, because she loved everybody else. Your Maa awaits you. Live for her?"

"A-And me." Ram mentioned, almost as an afterthought. "You loved me. Remember me? Remember how you'd clean my bows and massage my feet and make my bed? And how appalled you were that no one else did that for their brothers, because there are no brothers like you in this world? I love you. More than any command could convey. I love you more than the world loves the sun. I love you more than the water loves the sand. I love you more than the wind loves the mountains. You always fell asleep in my lap, as I petted your hair."

Ram chuckled gravely. "Only, now you're not sleeping,"

-----O-----

Bharat was sleeping. For real. His head rested in Kaushalya's lap, and his lower body draped over the floor. He was exhausted. Tear tracks which had only made their trail halfway down his face before they were rapidly wiped off, dried on his fair skin. His body fell up and down at a study pace, his steady breaths the only sign that he was still alive himself. Kaushalya petted his hair absentmindedly.

No one else could sleep though. Kaikeyi was busy praying, Mandavi muttering mantras underneath her breath, and Shrutakirti hugged Sumitra tightly even through her own pain. Shatrughan sat, slumped on a chair, staring into empty space. Beside him, on the ground, head in her hands, Urmila slumped, hair hanging in wet clumps around her face.

Lakshman had gone, expecting her to be strong and be the pillar of support for everyone. But Lakshman had never been much of a feelings type of a person. He didn't understand what would happen to her if he died. He probably went into war with some dumb thoughts of how he would remarry even if he perished.

Flashback

"What did you think of me when you first saw me?" Lakshman asked quietly. He sat in her lap, faced towards her, voice quiet. He sounded drained, lost of all energy. His head felt heavy in her lap and his hands held onto the bedsheets as if he couldn't ground himself. The moonlight framed his face, and Urmila thought she could see his lips quivering slightly.

"Well," Urmila hummed, trying to not to sob again. "I thought that you seemed like a disagreeable type of fellow who loved to pit his brothers on unsuspecting princesses' sisters and take them away for all time." She couldn't help herself and chuckled. Lakshman's face managed to pull itself into a soft smile.

"Do you think of me as a strong person?" Lakshman asked. "Now." Urmila tried to hide her sniffle.

"No," she joked. "Never! You? Strong? Lakshu, you're just a baby to me! No more of this strong warrior image! You're a dearie! Strong? Pfft," She couldn't see his face, but a forced laugh echoed in the room. Fearing her words would only cause another few tears to escape her eyes, Urmila kept silent.

They both kept silent the rest of the night. The next day, he was dressed in the clothes of a hermit.

Present

"Aw Laksh," she whispered, voice raspy. "You're the strongest person I know, other than my didi. You're so strong, you make everyone else so weak. I'm just so afraid that I can't do that. I can't be strong. I can't do what you did so effortlessly. If you're losing strength and dying, what will become of me, tell me now!"

"I think," Lakshman said. "That your strength is much more than what I have left. You have Sita Maa and all the people in Ayodhya. Hold on, Mila." He put a hand over his mouth. "Oops. Sorry na, I keep on saying that. Mila. Old habits, you know." He took her into his embrace and started to hesitatingly brush her hair. "If you don't want, I'll stop. But bhaiyya and maa always do this to me when I'm sad. It makes me stronger."

"Don't stop," Urmila whispered. "I'm afraid that if you stop, you'll disappear. And you can't disappear. You can't do that to me."

"Don't we all always reunite eventually Mila?" Lakshman said. "I'll see you again, didn't I say? Some way or another. Don't be afraid." But then he stopped, and Urmila looked towards him and just found empty space. 

A/N-I did promise myself that Lakshman would wake up in this chapter, but then I just COULDN'T DO IT! So, anyways....that's the next chapter. NO MORE DELAYING! 9 part shakti saga is enough to satisfy you guys.

Anyways, I updated Incorrect Quotes and this today (almost didn't update this one, but ASLKFGWUGFFVWKH> (translate to: Mochi loves updating)), so no story update tomorrow! There will be an incorrect quote/short though!

By the way, did you guys see the song-of-the-chapter at the top? It's Darkhaast  from Shivaay!

 It's kind of like the song I listened to while writing, which I think describes this chapter well.  Feel free to listen while reading (too late now, you're already done with the chapter) and give feedback on my song choice (also: recommendations, pls). I actually plan to make a song playlist for this story and link it from Spotify, and just put a visual list at the end of the book.

AT THE END. YES. When you're DONE WITH IT. Makes sooooo much sense.

Also, haha, 170 chapters! Anyone getting kind of scared with me? THIS BETTER NOT REACH 200-