Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
LEO
Hospitals smelled of death.
There was no getting around it — cleaning supplies, and despair.
It was the signature smell of ‘get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here’, and I was bathed in it.
Alex had been transferred to the hospital she worked at with the doctor whose name I couldn’t pronounce.
Apparently, she usually worked in a designated section for critical patients but bounced around to the ER, and some hospice locations.
Luckily, Alex had been placed in a pretty cushy wing meant for recovery, and was constantly attended to by staff and rehabilitators.
The word rehabilitation had made me want to crawl out of my skin until Doctor B explained it was strictly to help Alex navigate her new equipment.
My upgrades could be painful, but never like this.
They usually meant more tubes, needles, or a different concoction of coolant that the techs had cooked up.
She basically had brain surgery, and Dahlia was breathing down my neck for updates.
“The longer we hold on to this, the more chance of our information getting cold. Splinter could move locations, change captains, who knows—”
“—and you want me to do what? Rip her out of bed and tell her, ‘Suck it up, buttercup. We’re heading to Connecticut’? Did you even read the report? She needs time to heal.” I hoped she could hear my seething through the phone.
Three cigarette butts had been added to the ashtray beside me, a stupidly large distance from the actual hospital entrance, and I kept glancing up at the massive building beside me. Was Alex’s room on the left, or the right? The place was a damn maze, and I’d been outside for an hour arguing.
“I understand that, but what I am asking is for a timeframe. You told me that this would take four days at most, and it’s been eight.
That is over two weeks since we got our intel, three since those Splinter members were originally captured.
We’re sitting on our biggest lead in four years, and if we let it slip, there is a very likely chance that people will die.
” Dahlia’s tone was cold, curt, and entirely too clinical for me to handle after dealing with doctors for hours on end.
My temper spiked, and I heard the plastic of my phone case sizzle beneath my touch. “Wait for her to recover so we can do this right, or find someone else. I’m not sending her on a botched mission like we did with Hopper. That’s how people end up dead.”
I ended the call before she could respond, and my thumb cracked the screen from the heat I was putting off.
“Damnit.” Part of me wanted to throw it, crush the damned thing into the ground, and burn everything around me.
But I looked up, and a head of black hair was peeking out of a window, four stories up.
Alex. She was watching me; it wasn’t surprising, she’d been cooped up for too long.
I lit another cigarette, pulling hard to take in as much as I could, before crushing it into the ashtray and dumping my phone in the garbage beneath it.
The VIA could pay for another one if they wanted to reach me so badly.
By the time I made it back up to her room, she was in bed again, and the bandages that had covered her head before were gone.
“They took them off?” I asked, settling into a chair beside her.
The cushion had a dent from how often I was there.
She nodded, her hands fidgeting. “Yeah, cleaned them up and everything. Everything is healing well, and I’ve been passing my tests. I should be out of here soon enough.”
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and ducked my head to catch her eye.
Alex had cycled throughout the week—hour to hour, minute to minute.
She had moments where she seemed relieved, almost hopeful.
Times where she got excited, like when they tested her ability usage, and she came out at fifty-six percent.
It was her all-time high, apparently. The new implants were a game changer.
But then she would dip. At first, she wouldn’t talk to me, but day by day she opened up more, and I drank up whatever she had to say.
Sometimes, it was about Joon. How pumped he would have been to see her new scores, or how being in a hospital bed brought back memories of him.
I still wasn’t good at talking, but Alex only needed someone to listen.
I could do that, at least.
This energy, though, meant that she was fixated on her damn horns. When she kept her head low so that her hair hung in her face, or when she turned away from me, as if that would hide them. I had no idea how to navigate it. They weren’t bad at all. Sure, they were a bit bigger.
Okay, a lot bigger. The ones she had before only poked out of her head by a couple of inches; in passing, they could have passed as a headband.
These stuck out about five inches from her head, and were a little thicker in width.
They were still that shining blue, with small rings wrapping around them that would glow when she used her ability, rather than sparking up.
“They look fine, Alex,” I said.
She sighed. “I know.”
What would Joon say?
He always had a way of cheering her up or making her see the bright side. I didn’t know how to channel that, when I’d never been able to do it myself. Bright sides and optimism weren’t my expertise; I was the ‘burn-it-all-down’ type. Navigating Alex was my hardest mission yet.
“Hey, look at me.” I reached out and tapped beneath her chin. “Let’s talk it out.”
You talk, and I’ll listen, I mean.
She let out a groan as she threw her head back, and the tips of her new horns hit the back of her hospital bed. A small yelp made me jump, and Alex clutched at her head as I held my hands in the air around her, like an idiot. What was I gonna do, some energy healing?
Dumbass.
“They’re freakin obnoxious!” she growled, and I froze.
“Yeah, I look like a fucking dragon, or whatever. I can’t blend in anymore, fine.
Kids are gonna wanna touch them more, fine.
People are going to stare more, fine. It’s the Variant condition, fine.
But this? It’s driving me nuts. Do you know how many times I snag these things on the pillowcase at night?
! A stupid amount! An unreasonable amount of times! And it hurts!”
After a moment of shock from her outburst, I nodded along. “I can see how that can be frustrating.”
Thank you, Minnie.
She’d given me the best advice—listen, and confirm. Unless Alex was completely going off the deep end. Minnie put her number on my phone on speed dial, just in case. The phone that I had just burned and tossed, unfortunately.
Do hospitals have therapists on hand?
“I just…” She turned to me with those big blue eyes, as if she was pleading for me to help. “I was finally finding myself again, things were actually getting better, instead of sitting just above crisis mode, you know?”
No, I abandoned crisis mode a while ago. Give-up mode is similar though, right?
“Yeah,” I swallowed. “I think.”
“How am I supposed to feel like myself again if I don’t look like myself?”
I wasn’t sure if she was actually expecting an answer or not.
Sometimes, she’d throw out a question, and when I replied, her face would go blank.
Other times, I’d avoid the inquiry, and she’d follow up with another one.
It didn’t feel like she hated me anymore, and I thought that’s all I needed.
But she gave me an inch, and now I wanted a mile.
Alex was someone I wanted to understand. I wanted to talk to her, or hear her talk. Instead of being rivals or past-acquaintances, we were growing into something more. Friends, maybe? Was this classified as friends, even though she was still under VIA orders to work with me?
Probably not.
Being agreeable wasn’t working anymore. I let the words fly, and hoped that they would stick.
“Your eyes are still blue. Not sky blue, or ocean blue—they’re kind of… you know those butterflies? The blue ones, I think they live in the rainforests or something.” I was babbling; a big babbling idiot.
The corners of her mouth turned up. “Morphos.”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, sure, those. Your eyes remind me of the color of their wings, so that hasn’t changed. And your tattoos — those are still there. They’re permanent.”
This is NOT channeling Joon. This is channeling my inner demons; the dumb ones that talk too much.
Somehow, though, Alex was responding. “Are they? Darn, they didn’t tell me that when I got them.”
I rubbed the back of my neck and turned to the side; was that enough? Did it do the trick? She leaned forward and cocked her head, black hair cascading down to rest in her lap.
“Your hair — I’ve never seen it short,” I grumbled. “There are a lot of things about you that haven’t changed. But… isn’t change good, too?”
Alex held back a smile; she was amused. If she laughed at my expense, so be it. At least she was holding her head up again.
“It can be, yeah.” Her voice was husky, and it made my stomach clench.
“Your ability score changed; that’s impressive. Most Variants stick to the same output levels, and just get better at how we use it. I haven’t seen you drink since that day Reed and I basically kidnapped you, so I’d call that a win, too.”
She let out a boastful laugh, and my skin heated. My power came out slow, steady. A candle flame instead of a wildfire. Warm, but not scorching. Calm.
“I’m glad you can admit it was a criminal offence,” she snickered, and I was buzzing now. “And hey, I don’t usually drink. Just in—”
“—June.” I nodded.
Her smile didn’t falter, though. “Yeah, not the best coping mechanism, I know.”
“At least you’re not burning things to the ground, or hurting anyone,” I jutted my chin toward the scar that was still on her hand.
That hadn’t changed either.
Alex wiggled her fingers, and leaned back. She sat up straighter, her chin pulled up, and she did look different. It wasn’t the horns, though. It was her energy, the way she carried herself.
“You’re right; change is good.” Her voice was honey. “And you’ve changed, too. I never thought you’d be the one sitting in a hospital room with me, but I’m glad you’re here.”
And just like that, my world shattered. Every moment I pushed away, every feeling I stifled, all the things that I wanted to destroy instead of build on—Alex smashed all of my effort to bits.
I’m screwed.