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Part 3
The darkness surrounding me is slowly starting to fade as I feel myself being laid on a couch or bed or something like that. Whatever it is, it has a bedspring that’s poking me in the back.
"We need to get a doctor," I hear the female voice from earlier say.
No! They can't get a doctor.
"No," I manage to mumble. "No doctor."
Somebody is suddenly beside me. It's the same guy that carried me to wherever we are right now, I recognize his voice when he starts to speak. "You need a doctor, and so does Annie," he tells me in a soft voice, talking like one would to a three-year-old.
"No," I repeat, my voice firmer than before, but I have to take a few deep breaths before I can continue speaking. "How's Annie?" I ask, hoping that I could do enough for her to bring her out of immediate danger.
"She has a few broken bones, some ugly bruises and scratches, but other wise she seems to be okay," he tells me.
I hear a soft moan only a few feet away form me and realize that Annie's in the same room. And so I roll myself off whatever I’m lying on and crawl over to her.
"Get out," I tell the rest of them. They don't move, and so I tell them again, more forcefully than the first time. They protest and so I growl for them to beat it before they hesitantly obey. When they're gone I turn to Annie.
"How are you?" I ask.
"I’m okay," she rasps out. "Are you a transgenic too?"
A transgenic? Too? What the hell is she talking about?
Ignoring her question I say, "Annie, I can make it better, make the pain go away, but I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that for me?"
She does what I ask her to, and I once again place my hand over her heart. I'm already drained, and so I'm not sure if I even have enough energy left to heal her some more, but I guess it doesn't hurt to try. Or maybe it will, but what the hell. I’ve gotten used to pain lately.
I look into Annie’s eyes and concentrate, or at least try to. A few seconds later I once again feel myself being sucked into her subconscious. Her left arm is broken, as are some of her ribs. Her right wrist is sprained, and she has a few minor injuries in the abdomen as well as a few ugly gashes, bruises and scratches. I concentrate first on her left arm, then on her ribs, her wrist and then the worst of her gashes and bruises. Practice makes perfect I guess, it’s easier this time to locate the injuries and to heal them. But maybe the latter is just because these injuries are less severe. I manage to heal them all more or less completely and fight off the darkness creeping up on me, but it drains the last of my energy and so I can't keep up the resistance very long and once again slip into oblivion.
------
Ugh.
That’s all I think when consciousness slowly creeps back to me.
I stir, then moan. Every little movement hurts like hell. My head feels like it's about to explode and every other fiber of my body is screaming in agony as well.
"Hey," I hear a voice beside me. At first I'm confused, not knowing where I am, not knowing who the guy is, but then it all comes crashing back down on me. The sewers, Annie, healing her.
The guy who carried me out of there is sitting beside me, I recognize his voice. He has a nice voice.
I blink a few time, not able to focus at first. Then the haze clears away and I see him. A concerned look is on his face, mixed with curiosity. For the first time I actually see what he looks like, and I have to admit that I like what I see. He's sorta cute.
"How long did I sleep?" I ask. My voice sounds weak and tired, exactly the way I feel.
"Almost a whole day," he replies.
I slept a whole day and I'm still tired? I definitely need some time to get used to all this alien crap and its effects on my life.
"How's Annie?" I ask next, hoping that I managed to heal everything before I passed out.
"Great, actually. She has a few small bruises, but otherwise she's fine," he tells me, curiosity lacing his voice. “No broken arm, no sprained wrist, barely any cuts.”
He’s obviously fishing for an explanation, but I chose to ignore that. "Good," I reply, once again closing my eyes. God, I'm tired.
"How did you do that?" he asks, apparently not one to beat around the bush.
"Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies," I mumble, knowing that he probably won't just drop it, but that's when the door opens and I'm saved, at least for the moment.
"Alec?" a girl asks. I recognize the voice from the sewers, she's one of the people who found me and Annie.
"I heard voices,” the girl continues. “Is she up?”
“Yeah, she’s awake,” Alec replies, his chair squeaking.
“Good,” she says before coming over to the bed. “What are you? Are you a transgenic? Are you a familiar? Why did you help Annie? What were you doing down in the sewers? Were you there with White?” She’s shooting one question after the other at me, so fast that I can barely take in what she’s saying. So much to being saved for the moment. Why can’t they just keep their noses out of my god damn business?
Not that I know what the hell she’s talking about in the first place. Familiar? And what is it with these people accusing me of being a transgenic? And who the hell is this White-guy?
“Hey, give her a break, will ya?” the guy, who’s obviously named Alec, says coming to my rescue. “Can’t you see that she’s not up for that right now?”
And I, I’m actually grateful. The last thing I need at the moment is someone cross-examining me. And it’s not like they’d actually get any answers out of me. No siree. I’m a pro at keeping secrets. Didn’t I keep it a secret from Max for months that I hadn’t really slept with Kyle? That it was all a set-up? That it had been his future self who had gotten me to do that in the first place?
Yup, I’ve mastered the art of secret-keeping. And where did it get me?
Yeah, so let’s not think about that right now.
The door opens again and in comes yet another person. He comes over to the bed I’m lying on and places something on the nightstand. He’s tall, very tall, with long brown hair. My eyelids are heavy again, my vision blurry, and it’s pretty dark in the room – hence I can’t make out his features. But the way he moves is somehow…strange. He seems to be a bit…clumsy. Like he doesn’t know how to coordinate all his limbs. Or maybe they’re just too long.
“Soup,” he says, and his voice sounds tentative, almost confused. Like he expected something to happen but it didn’t and so now he’s not quite sure what’s going on. “Joshua made it,” he continues. “Will help Liz get better. Liz needs to get back on her feet.”
Eating is the last thing I want to do right now, but something in his voice makes it impossible for me to refuse. He sounds so eager, sort of like a little kid.
And it reminds me of Alex. And so I can’t say no.
I sigh and nod. He picks up the spoon and feeds it to me, but half of the soup lands on my chin and neck instead of inside my mouth.
“Sorry,” he says. I make a weird kind of gesture with my head as if to say that it doesn’t matter, too tired to speak, or move any other part of my body. He feeds me another spoon and this time it all ends up in my mouth. It actually tastes good, and the warmth that’s spreading through my body because of it feels pretty nice.
But the third spoon once again lands on my face and so Alec intervenes. “How about I take over, Joshua?” he asks, already taking the spoon out of his hand.
“Okay,” he replies. “Joshua needs to check on Annie.”
“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” the girl says, giving me one last look before leaving the room.
Alec starts feeding me the soup, and I have to say that it’s strange having someone doing that again. The last time someone feed something to me was four years ago when I broke my wrist and couldn’t use my right arm at all for a few weeks. Alex once fed me some ice cream and ended up spreading wiped cream all over my face. Sigh. Those were the days…
Alec keeps feeding me the soup, not saying anything, and I keep eating it, figuring that that’s the best way to keep him quiet, at least for the moment.
But after a few minutes I’ve had enough, not capable of eating any more, and so I shake me head, not opening my mouth for the spoon that’s hovering in front of my lips. Alec sighs and tries to coax me into eating some more, but I just tell him later maybe.
“Is there anyone we should contact for you? Family, friends who might be worried?” he asks.
I just shake my head, not looking up. That’s sort of a touchy subject for me right now.
He seems a bit surprised at first, but then he stands up and tells me that he’ll let me get some more sleep since I obviously need it. He leaves the room, almost hesitantly. Or maybe my brain is so mushy that I’m seeing things in slow motion, not sure.
A second later I’ve already slipped away into a deep, at least somewhat peaceful slumber.
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