I dreaded the day after our… conversation till the end, but up till now I have been spared his presence. Part of me is relieved. There's a lot I have to sort out and it doesn't help that I keep being stuck in his room with nothing to do.

A knock on the door puts my body in a tense posture and my eyes dart over as said door slowly opens. Only as I exhale deeply I realized that I had hold my breath in anticipation, but the figure appearing in the room is small and fragile.

"Doc," I greet him to reassure myself and my senses. It's not the Shadow, it's alright. Relax Eon, relax. My shoulders drop.

"You seem agitated," his voice is faint yet calm. In the past I would have just seen it as normal but after all the time I was stuck here, I came to understand that he does have a range of tones. This one seems rather exhausted.

"And you tired," I counter.

"Comes with the job." I watch him coming closer. His cold palm lands on my forehead as he eyes me intensively.

"Cabin fever, I assume?" He retracts his hand as he couldn't feel a change in temperature, which only leaves some options.

"Yeah. It's better than being trapped in a huge room but still… I'm restless, nervous. I've trouble sleeping, I feel like I've been sleeping too much for days."

He nods and from a small pouch that emerges from within the layers of black fabric, he pulls a small vial. I've grown used to his ointments by now, I don't even question the content anymore. It became too much stress added to the already existing pile.

"Eases the mind a little. But I fear there isn't much I can do but to help you get back on your feet again."

"I know…" He could numb me, but we had this talk already. My body would slack off in the healing process if he would sedate my mind and body and that's the last thing I need right now.

I take the vial and store it on the nightstand table for a later use. I feel… a lot of things even though I try not to. And since our talk yesterday new questions have formed. Questions I can't ask the Shadow but the person in front of me.

"Doc, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Go ahead. However, I can't promise an answer."

"That's alright," I sigh. I've been there already, done that already. Although the doc has a whole other feeling to him than the Shadow does. And while I know him since a while we never spoke about much outside of our work. I just assumed him to be in similar position to mine and we left it at that.

But things have become more complicated lately.

"You seem to know the Shadow since a while," I start, only pausing because he throws his glowing gaze at me. I can't really analyze his expression; he doesn't stop me from asking but it seems like he tries to find out where this is going. Maybe to prepare himself or his answers in advance.

After a moment of just looking at me he nods and places his hand on my shoulder. I know this already and try to lift my upper body just enough for his hand to slip on my back. His other hand lands on my lap to hold me down.

"Since when exactly?" I ask, but I'm still focused on the exercise as he slowly helps me sit up. Such a basic thing to do and yet I need help so my muscles don't strain too much. It's pathetic.

"A very long time. He was just a young man when I met him."

"I'm sorry, that sounds like he's a grandpa now." And I know that's not the case. He's older than I but I don't think he's that much older.

I see the corner of his mouth twitch but it fades before it can grow into a smile.

"Well, he is going to hit his forties soon." His voice has grown even calmer, but I guess we don't need to talk loud by how close we are. And I stand corrected. I thought the Shadow to be in his early thirties but… Wait a minute.

"How old are you – uff." Air escapes my lungs out of reflex, as he pushes my limits a little further by helping me getting into a slightly bent over position.

"I don't know," he answers, his voice calm, his gaze focused on what he's doing and the reactions of my body. Then he lets me lean back a little bit again. I feel the sting in my abdomen but it doesn't hurt just yet. It's hard to tell if it's due to the injury or my numb muscles.

"That's not what I expected to hear," I have to admit. He looks so young. My age maybe, possibly even younger.

"I've been like this for a while. I've been like this when I first met him."

I knit my eyebrows in irritation. But then again, he is capable of magic and for all I know it can mess with a human's aging process. There aren't many with his abilities and studies are often kept secret by the Arch, as are people like him. But here he is, out in the open world, doing his thing.

Is this why he's dying? Is his body so fucked up that age has caught up to him internally? Is this the price of magic?

"I think," he pauses and I look at him from the corners of my eyes. I am focused on his words as I am focused on my body – this is good. It's stimulating my mind, takes my thoughts off heavier things. It gives me something to do, it gives me some kind of balance that has been missing recently.

"He was 18, maybe 19 when we first me. Already part of the Shadows but so much more naïve and reckless. Up till then they have only sent him out run errands as they often do with their new members."

I'm not too sure if he should let me know such things, but then again – what should I do with these bits and pieces of information? He knows that I have neither use nor interest in such knowledge.

"Think you can move up a little?" He asks in a much lower voice as if to keep instructions separated from the overall conversation. I nod and with a little help, I manage to scoot up closer to the headrest of the bed, only then he lowers his hand on my back to lean me slowly against it.

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"I was his first big job," he continues with the matter at hand once he made sure I'm positioned just right. He sounds so casual and calm, it's beyond me.

"What do you mean?" I let him guide and position me, I'm so used to it by now. I can't say I trust him much as a person but I trust him as a doctor.

"Their mission was to steal me from the Arch," now he looks me in the eyes, searching for something. The silver glow from his eyes is stronger than usual; I wonder if it's connected to his magical energy.

I remain silent. Curiosity has taken a hold of me but I can't find the words to prompt him to continue. This is dangerous territory and I don't think there is a question I could ask. I'm open to whatever he decides to tell me, but anything else could just end this conversation right here, right now.

"I don't have to explain you why the Arch locked me up." I shake my head he really doesn't need to. They will lock up everything valuable: Artifacts, relicts, people with magical abilities or properties… Two of three things which are human beings with human feelings.

"To this day I don't know why the Shadows stole me. But I am free because of them."

"Is this why you trusted them to… steal me?" I was so close to just say kidnap. Because that's what it was, wasn't it? They kidnapped me from the Bear's cave. But it would have sounded so ungrateful.

I'm still struggling with this whole thing, there are still so many thoughts telling me to go back and apologize, so many voices in my head telling me it was wrong to leave. But these are my concerns, my fears, my doubts. He did what he thought right, it's not my place to blame him for it.

"Yes," he answers. He switches his hands – The hand he takes from my back replaces the one in my lap, which in turn moves down on my left shinbone. He slowly moves my leg. I try to tense my muscles lightly to remind them of the feeling of movement. Gradually, he helps me bend my knee and pull my leg toward my body so that I can clearly feel the muscles in my abdomen and legs working.

"You aren't really free though, are you?" I've seen the signs of abuse on him many times, blue bruises covering whatever I was able to see of his face.

"I am as free as you are now." His voice remains calm, but it sounds abrupt, as if the whole discussion was done. I have more answers, but I accept it. I watch my own leg being brought closer to my upper body until I flinch. He stops moving but keeps my leg in position.

It's not so much pain as a very uncomfortable feeling rooting from my muscles and the injury. I'm just sitting here doing necessary exercises and already I'm hitting a limit. When will I be able to move again, to stand and walk again? I'm making progress, yes, but not fast enough.

I take a deep breath. Is this my life now? What if it won't get better? What if I'm stuck like this forever? My injuries had been fatal if it hadn't been for the doc's magic and knowledge. So… Who's able to tell if I'll ever be able to walk again?

I close my eyes and bite my lower lip while a sense of just giving up washes over me. What good is this anyway? Thayer won't take me back in this state, I can't do my work, I can't even tend to myself. I…

"Stop it, Eon. You're going to be alright. Give it time." He speaks softly, reassuring. I don't want to hear it but at the same time I do. I hate that everything has to be so complicated.

"I try; I try… It's just… It doesn't feel like it's getting any easier…"

"And it will get even worse before it gets better. You're processing, something you haven't done for years. You're not just dealing with what has happened recently, you're dealing with all the things you have suppressed in the past."

I can't tell if his words are comforting or just egging me on, but at least they appeal to my sense of logic. God grief, when will this be over? I just want everything to go back to how it was, including Thayer's abuse. It hurt, but I was safe. Pain can be numbed with the right substances, but safety is rare.

"Eon," his voice is suddenly more pressing, more serious while still calm. It's enough to force me to look at him.

"When they stole me from the Arch I couldn't walk, I couldn't see nor hear, it was so hard to breathe. I was afraid, I haven't seen the city in such a long time I couldn't remember what the sky looks like or what the city smelled like. I forgot how wind and the timid warmth of the sun feels like on my skin," he slowly releases my leg into a more relaxed position while I keep my eyes on him.

I can relate to these feelings. Not that I could ever forget what this city looks, smells, and feels like, but I resonate with his experience of feeling lost.

"I didn't know about the Shadows. They were just strangers dragging me from the only place I knew. It took years before I learned to live again. He stopped me so many times from just walking right back to the Arch." He slowly retracts his hands and sits down on the chair next to the bed.

"He was so young, so raw in his emotions and sympathy, different from what he is now. He saw a person in need and he cared so much it almost hurt. If it wasn't for him and his persistence I wouldn't be here. I had gone back. The Shadows had the job to steal me but that was it. There wasn't more to it. They just left me to fend for myself."

I watch him, sitting beside my bed like death himself sharing tales of long forgotten times – or that's what it feels like.

"He has changed, he had to. We need to grow colder in order to survive, we need to distance ourselves. There are so many people dying in this city daily, I have to decide who to ignore and who to help or else both will die. The same goes for you, for the Shadows, for everyone."

I can't really say if he tries to lift me up or just came around to answer my question in a more understanding way but I feel my resignation shift slightly. If he made it, I can too, right? I still can see the sky, I can still smell the air, I can still hear the sounds of the city. I haven't forgotten what the wind or the sun feel like. I'm not numb. I am still feeling. That's more many could ever ask for.

"Thanks," for taking my mind off the doubts and redirecting it – is what I wanted to say but I can't muster more. I don't know if I prefer that direction but it is a new perspective. He just nods but doesn't move, as if to make sure I am fine enough to get back to exercising.

"He likes you, you know?" Now his eyes wander to the window, as if he's gazing past the milky glass far into the distance. A tingling feeling arises within me, "Do you like him?" I can't help but ask.

"Hm," the corner of his mouth twitches yet again, but instead of a smile a rather melancholic expression emerges, "I used to love him."

I feel my heart skip a beat – what the fuck was that just now? Am I alright?

"What happened?" Despite the weird sensation I just felt, I can't help but feel sympathy. Something must have happened or else…

"We grew apart. I'm not getting older but he does. I'll forever be grateful for all the things he did for me, but at some point understanding grew into annoyance, love into despair. Sometimes we cling to the only comforting thing we can reach and we fall in love for the wrong reasons. I guess we just realized that we didn't love each other the way we thought we would."

Is this what I am experiencing lately? The heartache, the weird sensation just now? Am I clinging on to something that feels like safety and comfort, building towards a false sense of… love? I don't know what love feels like, so… maybe?

"Do you regret it?"

"Falling apart?"

"Whatever you had in the first place?"

"No. Experiences are there to be made. You can only grow confronting them, if you hide and keep running you'll get stuck. There is no progress to be made. It may feel safer that way but it really isn't."

I watch him gazing outside the milky window as if he's watching a memory invisible to any other eye but his own. I feel weirdly calm, but not in a positive way. It feels… suffocating.

I had enough trouble with breathing lately – whenever the fear and dread got a hold of me – but this is different; I'm breathing just fine, and still I feel a heavy weight on my chest. Just to make sure, I take a deep breath effortlessly.

This is no fear, no anxiety leading my body to tense up. His words… They resonate with something deep within me, they latch onto something. This is no physical thing – it's something else. But I can't name it, let alone navigate it. The doc shakes his head slightly then turns to face me again.

"What do you think? Want to try to stand up?" he asks and I nod without hesitation. I need my freedom back, my movement, my mobility. The faster the better.