Last November
I was in the break room, my eyes closed and my head on my arms, when someone slid into the chair across from mine. “Your magic’s depleted. It was full up yesterday. So you figured out what you can do with it, then?”
“Go fuck yourself, Mitch.” I didn’t lift my head.
I wished I was at home, asleep. I still had three hours of my shift left, though.
If I’d known healing Fox would hit me this hard, I would’ve done it closer to the end of my shift.
Except he might’ve taken a turn for the worse in the meantime, dammit.
Mitch laughed. “Okay, keep your secrets. But I’m gonna get you something from the vending machine. I don’t have time to run to the cafeteria, but you need to eat something to replenish your magic.” He got up, his chair scraping unpleasantly on the ancient tile floor.
Huh. Maybe Mitch had a point. Jackson had needed to eat a lot after they healed me, hadn’t they? But Mitch wasn’t the only one who didn’t have time to go to the cafeteria. I could stop there before driving home, though.
It seemed like seconds, but it was probably minutes later when he returned. Plastic crinkled and a soda can hissed as he opened it. “Dude. Tell me. Because it’s insane, but...”
I lifted my head. He’d brought me a Coke, a chocolate muffin, and a package of peanuts. “Thanks. What do I owe you?”
He stared at me without blinking. “Was it you?”
I sat up and sipped the Coke. It tasted amazing, and I swallowed a good third of the can before setting it down and giving out a satisfying burp. “Was what me?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Francis Powell, the kid with the spider bite. Arielle just told me he’s made a miraculous recovery.
Like, he was heading toward death’s door this afternoon, but then, around the time you came on shift, he started to get better.
And better. His mom’s trying to get him discharged by morning. ”
I smiled. “That’s great. I’m glad for him.” I reached for the muffin and started unwrapping it.
He pointed at me. “It’s a little coincidental that you’re sitting there with only a quarter of the magic you had yesterday—a kind of magic I’ve never seen before—and a kid—a magical kid—isn’t sick anymore.”
Shit. I swallowed the muffin, following it with another swig of Coke.
“Look, Mitch. I’m pretty sure an ability like what you’re describing isn’t real.
Like, people can’t heal other people with magic, right?
” He opened his mouth, but I held up a finger.
“Because, if there was someone with that ability, wouldn’t their lives get turned into a circus with everyone on Earth hounding them every single minute of every day asking to be healed? ”
He slowly closed his mouth, looking thoughtful. Then he gave me a sharp nod. “You’re right. Plus, someone with an ability like that would never just have a shitty regular job working night shift in Pediatrics. They’d be riding around in a gold limousine.”
I snorted, then finished off my muffin. “But thanks for telling me about the kid getting better.”
He stood up. “We gotta share the wins around here, Manny. Hey, make sure you eat more than usual for the next couple of days, okay?”
“Will do. Thanks.” I raised my Coke in his direction.
He shot fingerguns at me, then he spun on his heel and left.