"With all due respect, I must insist, Bear. I can't leave him unsupervised. Not yet."

"You are a nuisance, doctor. I'll make sure he'll recover just fine."

Voices… I know them both. This deep, raspy voice and the calm, timid words of the doctor… Where am I? It's so dark… My eyelids feel as heavy as lead.

"I doubt it, Thayer."

"Don't test me, doc, my patience is wearing thin today. Use your sharp tongue elsewhere."

He is pissed. I can hear it in his voice even though my head feels light, unable to really process the words I am hearing. But I don't need to grasp their conversation, not with Thayer's tone. I vividly remember him being pissed in the past, but right now, I can’t grasp the memory.

I know it’s something that has happened, but the reason and circumstances escape me.

“Don’t threaten me, Thayer. If you want him to recover properly, you’ll know to let me stay – as long as I please.”

Are they talking about me? They must be. The voices become clearer and clearer with every second, and yet I still feel trapped in a haze I can’t fully wake up from.

“Don’t blame me for the damage your stay will do to you. Not now, not ever.”

I hear his heavy footsteps, the sound of his anger muffled by the pride her keeps upright. But even in my state of mind he can’t fool me, nor the doctor. The sound of the heavy door slamming shut sends a shiver through my body and half a second later a cold hand reaches mine.

“Finally awake, are we?”

It’s not really a question I have to answer, he knows better than I do. He knew I was about to wake up, and while I didn’t catch the conversation he had with Thayer, I can imagine that it was a result of him trying to get the mighty Bear to leave.

Luckily so. “Hmmm,” I can’t speak. I try, I feel like words should leave my mouth, but the only thing escaping me are muffled noises.

“It’s alright, the sedative is still in your blood. Sleep a little longer, you’ll feel better,” he reassures me, and I can’t help but feel at ease knowing he’s here. There are so many things in my head right now… What exactly happened? What’s with Thomas and Andrew? How about the Duke? Why did this whole thing happen? And… why is Thayer here?

I surrender to the fog in my head, drifting into a dreamless sleep once more, plagued by so many questions without any answers. I’ll get to them, slowly but surely. But there is one answer I’ll never be able to achieve – and even if I do, how am I supposed to believe?

Why did the Shadow betray me? And why… Why do I feel hurt?

I hiss due to the pain I suddenly feel. In case I slept up till now I didn’t realize it, and whatever was left of the realm of dreams had left me the second I awakened to the pain. My eyes are suddenly open wide, but I can’t see.

It’s as if my body reacted but my brain hasn’t caught up yet. Or maybe it’s due to the bright, white room. My eyes slowly adjust, and the room gets into focus. I dart my eyes at the painting on the wall, staring it down while I try to suppress the pain that aches through my body.

“I’m sorry.” I hear the faint voice of the doctor next to me, his head lowered, his hood obscuring his face as always. “The anesthesia has worn off, but I have to assess how you’re doing without it.”

“I’m… fine.” My voice is pressed and dry. I’m far from fine and the doctor can tell, “Okay.. I’m not…” I give in to his silence. We both know I can’t just play this thing off like it’s nothing.

“Thought so.” Sometimes I have the feeling he tries to joke, but I’m never sure. Maybe that’s just his way to lighten the mood… Or an attempt to do so.

“Try to relax.” While he speaks, he stands up and walks up to the bed and I can finally see his glowing eyes from my perspective. He’s eyeing me with the professional gaze of a doctor, looking out for the smallest details in my appearance, expression, behavior, breath – anything, really.

“You were extremely lucky, Eon.” It’s rare to hear him say my name, we don’t often meet on a personal level, I’ve always been Mr. Moor to him – And just like that, I realize I don’t even know his name.

“The embroidery on your suit prevented the worst. She pushed you right into a branch and staked you. It missed your vital organs by a mere miracle.” With these words he pulled down the blanket and I avert my eyes, following the motion.

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I’m all patched up, the beige bandage is stained by the blood that had pushed through, washed out again and again. I don’t feel like I’m bleeding now, but it’s hard to tell. I still feel the pain, staying focused is hard, and it’s even harder to assess my own body. I feel it, painfully, but at the same time I can’t feel anything at all.

“What… happened to her?” Why do I even care? I got away with my life – barely. The last thing I should worry about is a wild beast, but here I am. Maybe I’m curious, maybe I just hate not knowing what has happened.

“I don’t know.”

“Mr. Morell?”

“Got away with a shock. Mr. Ashworth and the Duke made it in time. I got suspended for the time being.”

“They blame him.”

“Probably. They had to assess the whole scene, and they know what had happened – more or less.”

“I see…” Speaking is hard, my voice is crumbling due to the pain and I grasp for air. The less I move, the better I feel, but I still must breathe. And with every breath it feels like needles under my skin.

“And why –“

“Are you here of all places?” I nod and I’m thankful that I don’t have to talk more than necessary.

“Do you think the Bear would allow anyone to meddle with you? He was there before the transporters even arrived. There’s nothing anyone could do. Half an hour later I got the call to come see you. He is pissed, you know? Better be careful around him for the moment.”

I nod, as there isn’t more I can really do. I feel the doctor’s cold fingers on my skin, a soothing sensation amidst the pain, “can you sit up?” he asks, placing his second hand in my neck to assist me.

It’s a hard battle. The moment I tense my muscles to raise my head, my vision goes black for a second and I lean back into the cold palm of the doctor to catch my breath. I know I need to get up somehow; I can’t lie here forever, and the more I get used to it, the harder it will get. I’m back in this godforsaken room after managing to avoid Thayer for a whole week, I just want to be well enough to get out of his apartment as soon as possible.

So I grit my teeth and push through the pain, bringing my upper body into a somewhat upright position. I can feel the heat rushing through my body, breaking me into a cold sweat accompanied by a tremor, shaking up my whole body. I claw my fingers into the soft bedsheet, trying to stop my fingers from trembling… with little success – But I sit. That’s progress.

The cold vanishes from my neck and I can barely feel how his fingers have wandered to the bandages, loosening them. My head is spinning, the heat keeps a hold on me, and I try to focus hard on the sensation his touch provides, be it just to give my mind something to cling on to without perishing in the pain.

But the longer I sit, the more the pain settles. Breathing becomes easier with every breath and it feels less and less like needles poking my lungs. I relax, even if it’s just a little. By now the bandages have vanished and I barely noticed how the doc had come close enough to inspect my wounds.

I gulp the moment I see the black cape under my eyes; I dread to look at my own injuries. I’ve been staked… The mere thought twists and turns my stomach.

But a part of me wants to see – no – must see. I lower my gaze almost shy, as if I could avoid the greater picture of my own dreadful situation. Of course, I can’t help but staring at the ugly stitched up patch of flesh. It sits on my left lateral abdomen and for a second, I wonder if this was just pure luck or if the embroidery of our suits is stronger than we give it credit for.

They aren’t a guaranteed shield or barrier, for nothing, really. We often work in dangerous surroundings; The embroidery is the minimum effort of safety. It could redirect a bullet or hit on impact but could never prevent it. So… How much did it redirect the branch guilty of the hole in my body?

“You were out for two weeks straight. Though I must admit I had to put you into an artificial coma. Your body tried to fight me with every step.”

“How even?” I try to not pay attention to my breaking voice. We’re alone and sitting close to each other, voices and sounds travel well within this huge bedroom, and there is absolute silence around us. For a moment, I don’t doubt he could probably even hear me think.

“Every body reacts different to magical influences. You haven’t been badly injured up till, well… now. And all your body really knows is the impact of the Weave. When you absorb emotions from the Weave you have to fight them, you must make a clear distinction of what belongs to you and what doesn’t. It’s important to keep it separated. That’s what your body is used to. But medical magic is different. You have to accept it; it needs to become part of you. And your body really didn’t want to accept anything at all.”

I sigh, followed by a low moan. I feel the pain, but I try to ignore it while the doctor wraps me up in new bandages. The wound doesn’t look as bad as I initially had expected, but it had two weeks to heal. Time that’s just… gone. Time wasted being injured and bedridden. I feel my muscles twitch, and so does the doc.

“Tomorrow we’ll start to get your body back into shape. Your muscles need exercise, and I have yet to assess your ability to walk.”

I nod, it’s all I can really do. With my hands in my lap I flex my fingers, the tips still feel numb from the anesthesia, but it could be worse, I guess. It feels like touching something through a thin layer of fabric. The feeling is there just not quite right and somehow distant. Without a word the doctor hands me a flask of water and my head needs a moment to understand. Everything feels slow… A feeling I absolutely hate.

I take the flask and take a sip, only to realize how absolutely dehydrated my body feels. The pain had erased every sense of hunger and thirst but now it returns. I take another, bigger sip, and regret it right after. The swallowing causes my muscles to tense up, sending a wave of pain through my body.

Baby steps, Eon, baby steps.

I clear my throat to prevent a cough. The pressure a cough would put on my body sounds like a lot of additional pain I’d rather not experience, so I try to swallow it – semi-successful at that.

I lean back a little bit, but there’s just more pain awaiting me, so I decide to sit up a little longer. It helps to take the pressure from my back, and the longer I sit the more normal I feel. Tired – exhausted, even – but less broken.