My return to consciousness is slow and uncomfortable. Everything is slow to respond, and it takes me a while to manage opening my eyes. When I do I’m greeted by the sight of a hospital room.

It doesn’t take long before I’m replaying the fall in my head. I’m trying to think of something else, but it just won’t work. I’m feeling numb. As numb as my lower half. I already know I’ll never walk again. I just can’t catch a break.

Tears occasionally stream down my face as I contemplate yet another irrevocable change to my life. Just when I thought maybe things could be alright it all falls apart again.

I know people come in and out and try to talk to me, but for the most part I ignore them. At one point a doctor with random scales dotting his skin stops by and confirms my permanent paralysis to me. I’m hardly listening.

Food is brought in but I can’t bring myself to eat. So it sits on the tray untouched.

It’s evening when I discover that not all emotions are barred from me. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a red leather jacket I’ve seen before.

I gasp and would have curled up into a ball as far from him as I could, were I still in control of my legs. The best I can do is cringe away from him with my arms over my face, quivering.

From behind my arms I can see him wince. At least he’s wearing a damn shirt this time. Maybe he only skips it on days he’s going to maim random bystanders. To my surprise I see his eyes are red as though he’d been crying… Fat chance.

“I know there’s nothing I can say to make it better… but I’m so, so, sorry.” He says with a shaky voice. “I just started… and I… I thought I caught a murderer… I just.. I’m sorry.” He finishes quietly.

“Just please go, please don’t hurt me anymore. I’m done. I’ve got nothing left, so just please…” I plead with a hysterical edge on my voice. I’m starting to panic as he doesn’t immediately leave.

Without another word, tears in his eyes, he turns and leaves. With him gone, I begin to calm down and in the absence of the adrenaline and fear from his presence I find myself growing extremely tired. My eyes drift closed and only moments later, I’m asleep.

I don’t know how long I’m out, or even how long I was out the first time. They probably said it at me yesterday, but I wasn’t exactly a participant in those ‘conversations’. It seems like the sun has just come up.

Not long after I wake the door to my room opens. In walks a suit complete with briefcase. He’s looks to be in his mid 50s and at first glance he seems normal enough, but there is just something off about him. He looks sorta like he’d sell you a bucket of fried chicken. You know, if you lived in hell. Clearly he’s a very important individual. He doesn’t even have the time to greet me, or ask how I feel, before he dives into business.

“Miss, it has come to our attention that you were the victim of a most unfortunate accident-” He’s cut off as I snort in irritation.

“Yea… I was accidentally KICKED off of a FUCKING ROOF!”

“I understand your frustration, I really do…”

“You really don’t. Are you fucking high? Oh whatever, what the hell do you want?”

“I’ll get to the point then. If your willing to work with us, we have a treatment we think can not only restore use of your legs, but maybe even more. Just some paperwork to sign, all boilerplate stuff really. Why, we could take you into surgery within the hour! Just think, you could be good as new within the week!” He says with slimy smile.

Based on his spiel I should really read the shit out of that contract if I’m going to even consider it. I gesture for him to hand it over, and start to try reading through it. People who write these things must be sure that the activity ‘watching paint dry’ is just far too thrilling to for daily entertainment. It’s almost impossible to focus on it for too long.

It’s not long before I’m skimming through it. I don’t see anything overtly wrong and with hope overriding my trepidation I’m starting to consider it. I do however realize I have a problem. “Ummm, I think I want to do it, but I sorta don’t have an identity at the moment? Not a legal one anyways?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. We can get that taken care of for you sweetheart.” The way he says sweetheart creeps me right the fuck out. I could swear if I could get a look at him when he wasn’t paying attention his eyes would probably glow red and he’d be wringing his hands in anticipation. “What name would you like then?

“Maya.”

“Last name?”

“Last name… Ummmm” I hesitate trying to think of what to use, and for some reason all I can think of are the last names of all my friends. None of that will work!

“You can use whatever you name was before, we’ll ensure everything is fine regardless of any… problems, you may have had before.”

As good as that sounds I still really don’t want it to be connected to my former self. Maybe it’s on account of how much this guy skeeves me out. “Hayes.”

“Alright then, Maya Hayes. I’ll have it all taken care of before you wake from surgery, if you’d just be so kind as to sign.”

Skimming through the rest, it really is just authorization to transfer me and perform the specified surgery. It goes into some specifics about some responsibilities I’ll have with ‘the company’ as it was herein referred to, but it basically reads like I’ll have a job for a while afterwards. I’ll admit that I probably wasn’t giving due diligence, but between the hope and the sense that I’m already at rock bottom, why not? It’s not as though I feel like I have a choice.

I pick up the pen and sign my new name… well, I make a squiggle on the page at any rate. I’ve never been big on cursive, and I don’t even remember half the letters for my new name.

With that he thanks me with a slight bow of his head and departs. True to his word some nurses show up not 20 minutes later.

In short order I’m being transferred to a stretcher for transport. They are unhooking things, and moving IVs and other assorted medical equipment around in a flurry of activity. In no time flay I’m rolling down the hallways before being loaded into an ambulance for transport.

My apprehension grows as the trip wears on. I’m hopeful, but having difficulty shaking the nerves and bad thoughts, with everything that’s happened. It’s almost as though the hope I have is, in itself, the cause of my worry. What if this is just one last tease at hope, before it gets worse again? Then again, have I had bad, luck, yes. But it’s separate incidences. They all added up to the perfect shitstorm of pain. It has to be over now. At this point my life is all I have left to give.

Lost in my thoughts, we arrive and park in and underground garage. Moments later we are headed into surgery. A mask is placed over my face and they ask me to count down from one hundred. I’m so amped up and nervous by this point I feel like they are going to have a hell of a time knocking me out.

“One hundred, Ninety-nine, Ninety-eighhhhhh…” Just like that, I’m out.

In what has become a regular occurance I wake up groggy with no idea how long I’ve been asleep. I feel like puking and there’s a horrifying taste in the back of my mouth. It takes me a minute to work up the courage to find out how the surgery went.

Just before I do that I need to move my damn tail. I’m crushing it by laying on my back. The pins and needles sensation is unbearable. Since the change, laying on my side, preferably in a ball, is the most comfortable.

Wait… My tail! I can feel my tail again! In my excitement I start to fidget and move about confirming that I can feel again. I can move again! I can’t believe it! Something feels a little different but I can’t put my finger on it. In my elation I don’t even care about whatever that might be.

Looking around the room it’s a lot like a hospital room, however it’s a lot nicer. The room is sort of what you’d expect if you were going to a hospital that only let the top one percent in. Everything is clean and new. Sleek and modern.

Without any further thought on the matter I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Something seems to be amiss, but I’m excited to be on my feet again so without a second thought I push myself off the bed. For about a millisecond things were going well. I mean, I assume they were, it’s sorta hard to quantify that amount of time, but for the sake of my ego we’re going to say it went well, for at least a millisecond. After that fateful and most wondrous millisecond I found myself falling into a heap on the ground.

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Really, I probably should have seen this coming. Now, it’s not as though I’m still paralyzed. It’s just that my legs aren’t really cooperating. Now that I think of it, while I can feel my legs, things seem jumbled up. The sensation is really too much to even process. Clearly this is going to take a little time.

With what I’ve been through, I’m not going to let something like this hold me back. Although it’d be really cool if someone would come help me get up off the floor. I notice some monitor cables are still attached to me and figure detaching a couple ought to get someone's attention. Then again I also thought people would help you if you were laying seriously injured on the street too, and I was wrong there.

Upscale as this place was though, sure enough only a few seconds after I tear the sensors off of myself a nurse shows up. She looks at me and just sighs. “Young lady, I have to think you knew better… Let’s get you up.”

Young lady… Sometimes life is just truly bizarre. I can’t help but wonder how long it will take to really get used to who I am now. As I’m mulling over the complexities of my emergence, the nurse helps me back onto the bed with a stern warning to stay put and hit the call button when I needed something. Embarrassingly the call button could not be more obvious, and yet I had managed to completely overlook the entire possibility such a thing might exist in my excitement to get moving again. Before she leaves she tells me that I have a visitor on the way.

A few minutes later the door opens again and in walks a woman dressed in a sharp business suit. Looks to be in her late thirties to early forties. Her blonde hair gathered in a bun. I realize I’m probably a bit of a mess right now as I scrutinize her.

“Hello Maya, I’m Janet Hughes, CEO of DRF International. I’ll bet you have some questions for me, but please allow me to explain a lot of the pertinent details first.” I nod and she continues. “Four days ago, you agreed to allow DRF International to perform an experimental operation to cure your paralysis. You remember this right?” I nod again, but four days?!

“We implanted a small piece of tech found in the ruins of Seattle in your lower back. Based on our research we were confident it could merge with the nervous system of one of the emerged. Furthermore we expect other abilities to manifest as a result of it’s fusion. Now before you ask, no, no batteries or anything like that. It’s fused itself with your spinal column. It is now part of you. We don’t know the full extent of what you’ll be able to do, but in the coming days we’ll need your cooperation with some testing to determine just that.”

“To that end a couple members of our team that headlined research on this artifact will be by later to discuss some of the specifics with you in hopes that it will aid your understanding and control of your new abilities. Regrettably the researcher we had running point vanished the night of the second wave, but rest assured, the rest of the team is very capable.”

“Now, on to your side of the bargain. Beyond testing and categorization of your abilities, you will be expected to aid research staff should your unique circumstances lend you any special insight into any and all artifacts under study. Provided you are able to perform as we believe you should be able, you will be asked to occasionally accompany surveying teams into the ruins in search of new relics. Finally, and most importantly you will become a hero with the backing of DRF Industries, you will both fight crime and stand as a spokesperson for DRF. We expect the PR you raise to be unlike any campaign ever undertaken.”

By the end of her explanation my eyes are boggling. Me, a hero… nonono! No way! After what I’ve been through I’m really not interested in putting my body on the line. I can’t even imagine wanting to put myself in harms way like that. Shit! I can’t even walk again yet! Clearly it’s a job for someone else. I don’t even realize that I’m shaking my head ‘no’ as I’m lost in thought.

“Don’t worry. We won’t put you in a situation you can’t handle. Don’t forget, your real job is, put bluntly, to make us look good. We can’t do that if you fail. Now do you have any questions?”

I know I should have questions. Lots of questions, but I’m trying to take in everything she just said and my mind sorta blanks for a second before I can come up with a relevant question. “You mentioned that the surgery was four days ago?”

“Ah yes. You were held unconscious as the medical and research team monitored the cubes fusion with your nervous system. They concluded that during the initial integration that would safest for you and most likely to yield a positive result. Now, the research team will be here in a few hours, before that though some of the medical team will be by to assess you and begin you physical therapy to get you on your feet again. Having said that, I’ll take my leave. I’m expecting great things. Don’t let me down.” With that she sweeps back out the door leaving me to try and make heads or tails of any of what she just said.

I’m still baffled by the whole situation when a couple doctors show up. They begin a battery of tests designed to identify exactly how well my nerves are working. Their conclusion is that everything is scrambled. The nerves are connected, but not necessarily to the right thing. This worries me greatly. I’m wondering if it’s going to take me years to start walking again. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m still thrilled not to be paralyzed forever, but in this crazy age where technology is moving forward leaps and bounds seemingly overnight I’m still hoping for a much faster recovery.

“How long do you think it will be before I can walk again?” I ask finally giving in to my worry.

“That’s hard to gauge. Based purely on where you are at right now we would say months to years. However the researchers are confident that the device that was implanted in your back will start correcting things quickly as you attend PT. Now, this whole surgery is unprecedented so there really is no telling. Could be days, could be months. Try not to get too far ahead of yourself. The important part is that you will walk again. Just give it time. Be patient.”

“Thanks Doc.”

After that, there’s a quick meal before it’s on to physical therapy. It’s nice to get out of the room but it’s fairly uneventful just the same. They have me run through an exhaustive number of ‘exercises’ that amount to me attempting to do a thing. And failing miserably. What the doctors said is reiterated. Supposedly I will regain control of myself a lot faster than normal, but really only time will tell. Still, I’m not in a position to complain.

In fact, from where I am now, I actually might have a future. Suddenly, despite the task I have ahead of me things seem a lot less uncertain. It gives me a little bit of a chance to really reflect on where I am and where I’m going. I can’t help but feel like I have a new lease on life, and for the first time in days I’m not actively fretting about my destiny.

After the never ending failure of trying to control anything beneath my waist I’m taken back to my room. Once back in the room the nurse helps me back into bed and then checks my chart.

“Oh...OH.. So your physical therapist is actually going to be Michelle. She was out today but will be in tomorrow. I think you’ll like her. Just don’t eat her!” By her tone I know she doesn’t think I’m going to eat this Michelle person… On the other hand I know I’m missing a joke.

“Uhhhh, well I don’t make a habit of eating anyone, so I think we’ll be alright…” I say uncertainty. To which she nods and leaves with a wink. Oooooook.

The day was turning out to be pretty busy. Not long after the nurse left someone else was coming in. It’s with a shock that I see Matt rounding the corner. He doesn’t react, and I try my best not to either. I realize my past should be behind me, but I really don’t feel the need to take chances.

Following Matt is a girl who looks to be about twenty-five. She’s about my height with dark hair and glasses. She’s nerdy, but really cute with it. As she comes in it becomes apparent that she’s extremely bubbly, as she looks around excitedly before studying me intently. “OH MY GOD, you are SOOOO CUTE! MATT LOOK AT HER. Jeeze, it’s almost too much, OHMYGOD, can we adopt her?!”

At her outburst I am positively glowing red, finding myself no longer able to look her in the eye. My tail is twitching back and forth as I try to get a handle on myself. That’s the closest I’ve seen to coherent movement all day from it, as it tries to swish back and forth.

“Jess, calm down…” Matt begins.

“How can I? How can you? I know you have a thing for cat girls!” She says bouncing on her toes, mimicking little cat ears with her hands.

It’s really hard to imagine her working quietly analysing an artifact. I really kinda want to see the havoc she must cause in the lab. Maybe she’s not always this bubbly. Having said that, I might be misreading it, but it looks like she might be into Matt. He is definitely into her though, that much I’m sure of.

As Jess is calming herself I raise an eyebrow at Matt. He blushes a little and Jess leans forward looking between the two of us a couple times.

“WAIT, wait, wait. Do you two know each other?!” she exclaims.

Matt nods but puts a shushing finger to his lips. She seems to take the hint but she doesn’t want to let it go. “Ohhhh! Come on! Tell me!” I realize that I’m going to have to think on my feet here. Well, on my ass in this case, but what can you do?

“We met over the weekend before this all happened. Like you said, he’s got a thing for these.” I say and wiggle my ears for emphasis. “As you can imagine he had questions. You should ask him all about it later.”

The look on her face tells me she will definitely be asking more questions. She clearly doesn’t want to drop it now, but between the two of us she lets it go for now.

“Right, so down to business… An artifact known as Control Cube C-00039275 was implanted in your lower back in order to restore nerve function. We believe it should also give you something akin to telekinetic power.” Matt says. I rapidly realize the cube in question is the same cube that I was working on before my life was derailed. It hasn’t even been that long but it already seems like ages ago. He must be worried about someone listening, because he then goes on to explain the cube in detail the vast majority of which I already know.

“And, that leads me to our first test.” Matt says before pulling out a familiar cat plushie. This is the very same cat plushie that creamed me in the face a few days ago. I gasp.

“You wouldn’t!” At this point I’m starting to gain some self awareness of what I look like, and decide it’s about time I start acting on it. At least when there’s good reason, and I can’t think of a better time than now, with the perfect target to give it a try. I lower my face and look up at him with wide eyes, allowing my ears to wilt a little.

“Awwwwwww, noooo you can’t!” Jess says, seeming almost heartbroken.

“Ugh, OK, that’s not even fair Maya! I was just joking anyways. We’ll start testing when your a little further along with your PT. Meanwhile why don’t you hang on to Mr. Snugglekitty.” Mr. Snugglekitty… Really? It’s cute though. I want it.

Matt hands me the plushie and I hang onto it protectively patting it as though to reassure it that it’ll never be used as a projectile again.

Now done with Mr. Snugglekitty’s interruption, we move back to the discussion at hand. Apparently DRF already has a pretty full agenda for what it wants from me in the next couple months. They seem to expect that getting back on my feet should take weeks at worst. Next up I’m supposed to master these new powers that I’m not sure I’m convinced I have. Following that I’ll be doing a mixture of publicity events, research with excavation teams, and ‘Hero Stuff’, yes, that’s what he actually said.

By the time Matt’s done with explanation my head is spinning. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t really nervous about this whole me being a superhero business. On the other hand I was definitely excited by the prospect of a job that isn’t necessarily the same thing day in, and day out. Maybe all the bad luck is behind me.

With our conversation complete, they bid me farewell and turn to leave. I signal to Matt before he leaves. I Just have to know what’s up between them.

“Sooooo, what’s up with you two?” I ask, prompting him to immediately look away from me.

“Uhhhh, well, we hung out after work a couple times. It turns out we have a lot in common, and we kinda became friends. She’s really smart, and really helped me out when I was worrying about you.” He says quietly.

“I’m glad she was there for you… and sorry about the worry I caused you… if I’d been more careful… Ah, hell, no point in worrying about it now. I guess I’ll see ya in a few days.” I do feel kind of bad for him. Where the roles reversed I’d have been beside myself.

He gives me a wave, salute thing and heads out the door. With company now gone, I’m back to introspection mode. I’m really actually feeling pretty decent at this point, and because I have nothing better to do I start repeating the exercises I was doing in physical therapy.

They’d explained earlier that they were hopeful that the implant would do most of the work. In order to let it ‘learn’ what’s supposed to be happening they told me to try to move my legs, or tail, or whatever and move it as it should with my hands. According to them everything will come with time, but this should speed it up a lot. It seems that they didn’t plan to go to a more traditional method, such as there is in my case, unless this process didn’t work.

With all the activity it’s already closing in on dinner time and another meal is delivered to me. I really don’t expect much, but as with the meal earlier, I’m actually impressed. This is not your usual hospital fare. Then again, this place is pretty upscale. Nothing but the best for the ruling class… Not that I’m complaining right this second.

When they come to take the tray, I make a request for a tablet, and/or any other sort of entertainment. I’m told that they’ll bring me a tablet in the morning. Evidently Ms. Hughes told them to keep me comfortable. They do however point out there is a remote attached to the the handrails of the bed.

I don’t actually see a TV anywhere, but when I hit the ‘on’ button the damn thing descends out of the ceiling… It’s cool, but seems just a smidge unnecessary. After this discovery I begin to remember why I’m not much of a TV person. It’s better than twiddling my thumbs for a few hours before sleep though.

I’m almost relieved when I start to get tired enough to sleep though. I’m honestly starting to feel impatient to get on with it. There’s so much in store for me and here I am just sitting here. GAH! Apparently patience is not my strong suit. I feel like I used to be more patient before, but now… Not so much.

Finally the lights are out, and I’m trying to get to sleep. It takes some time as I’m so ready to get on with things it’s hard to really shut it down. Right before I drift off to sleep I’m suddenly awoken by an errant thought. Why the HELL would I EAT someone anyways?!