Everything following the battle was a blur.
I remembered falling down. People coming to pick me up. My friends were worried, and I had wanted to reassure them. No words came out of my mouth though. I was uncomfortable and in pain and I didn’t know what to say or do.
I didn’t know if I could even say or do anything.
There was only one thing I could remember with clarity. I had won. Azam had been as torn down as I had, but he was also out of bounds. My eyes felt heavier but muffled voices swam around in my head.
Will recover quickly.
Still, hurt bad.
Don’t go to sleep.
The next memory–the next solid memory at least–was that of Paragon telling me Lady Doom’s heritage. Jackson’s nephew’s daughter. I needed to get to her.
“Jackson,” I managed to say eventually. Barely. Even in my head I was sounding rough. “I..Sorry…Sorry…”
My hand was cold. Cold yet also warm. Full. I turned my head. Birgit was sitting. Looking down at me worried. I was–I was laying down? Everything became much clearer suddenly. I looked up only to be met with the pristine white ceiling of a hospital room. Birgit was sitting on the chair next to me, holding my–now gloved–hand.
I smiled at the gesture.
“What happened?” I asked. It was difficult to speak but that was expected. I’d been in situations like this more times than I’d like to admit, especially if we factored in both lives.
“Right after you won, you collapsed.”
“And Azam?”
“Both of you collapsed.” She gestured to the curtain behind her. “The other idiot is resting there. You didn’t have to go that hard, you know. You had nothing to prove.”
“I wouldn’t be able to fight Lady Doom if I didn’t.”
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“Then we would have found some other way to deal with her. You know what?” She let out an exasperated sigh and flipped the curtain open. “Talk. Now.”
Azam, in all his glory, was laying down on the other side. He was laying on the hospital bed, half his body covered in bandages, and an IV tube stuck up his arm. He was also all alone.
He was massive. Almost as big as the Houses’ Mimas, and he was genetically engineered to be practically a giant. Yet he looked small to me. Laying down alone when he hadn’t anything else
“What?” He grunted. “Want to gloat? You won on a technicality. And ruined me in the process.”
“Azam,” said Birgit, her patience clearly wearing thin.
“I don’t need to gloat.” I had to admit I spat that out with more anger than I wanted to. “I had to win this. You have no idea what’s happening. All you care about is–how did you put it?–putting me in my place!”
“And I didn’t!” He winced in pain as soon as he got heated. “But I will next time.”
“Stop it! Both of you!” She turned to Azam. “How many times do I have to say it to get it through your thick head? I’m happy. I don’t need to ask for your or anyone else’s permission to live my life how I want to!”
Again, he grunted.
“It won’t make a difference,” he said. “You’ll fail and Jensen will have to deal with Lady Doom himself.”
“No!” Something pulled itself when I yelled that. I tried to wince but even that was painful.
Before I knew it, Birgit was over me, her hands on my chest and back. They were cool, soothing. Deep breaths. I took a few deep breaths. Her breath was tickling my ear.
“You were talking in your sleep, kæreste,” she said quietly. “Jackson. Apologising for something. Did that have anything to do with Lady Doom?”
I nodded.
“Do you really have to do that in front of me?”
“I can help you too,” said Birgit. “If you weren’t as much of an idiot.”
I looked down at that. I heard him let out a sigh as well. A content sigh.
“Okay okay! That’s enough!”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Alex,” said Birgit. I couldn’t tell if she was amused or annoyed.
“Of course not!” I said indignantly. Based on her deadpan stare, I wasn’t that convincing. “We have things to do. Our mission isn’t over yet. And I don’t trust him.”
“He won’t betray us. Right, Azam?”
He softened at her words. I clenched my hands around the sheets. No matter what I did, how much I tried to fight and bury any insecurities, moments like these always brought them back. But I also couldn’t say anything. If we were to be able to discuss anything with Azam in front of us, we needed him on our side–or at least not actively against us.
Because I couldn’t just go up against Lady Doom. A pit formed in my stomach.
Lady Doom. Jackson’s niece.
Suddenly the idea of fighting her was much more difficult.