The eggshell-colored corridor bathes in the glow of rows upon rows of fluorescent bulbs, giving no quarter to shadows or darkness in its equipment-lined expanse. A seemingly endless series of doors line the far wall, each leading to a separate intensive care room. The mundane coloration of the hall is only broken by the rainbow-spectrum columns of indicator lights that adorn a space next to each door, close to the ceiling and in view of anyone who glances their way. A handful of rooms have a single green light activated, some of which blink slowly. Others have several lights on at once, including one that has all four of purple, blue, orange and white active at the same time. Further down the hall, a rapidly blinking red light guides a series of nurses who rapidly enter and exit the room with various pieces of equipment in tow. The door to which the nurse who informed me of Lucy’s status guides me has only a single colored light active: yellow. I don’t know exactly what the colors indicate, but the absence of a sense of emergency around the room gives me reason enough to breathe just a little easier. In front of the door, the diminutive compsognathus nurse who peers upwards at me from behind thin-rimmed spectacles speaks in a squeaky, yet composed voice. “Now, I should warn you, she has only been awake for a few minutes. She’ll most likely still be disoriented, and may not respond to you in the way you’d expect. Her head will clear as she wakes up further.” She looks past her glasses at me, adding a stern tone to her words. “There is still a chance she may lose consciousness, or potentially seize again. We need to monitor her for another hour with no complications before we can transfer her to a standby room.” I nod as I take a step towards the door, but the nurse raises her hand to stop me. She seems to size me up for a moment, as though determining whether her next statement is one she needs to make. She gives a small nod to herself and adds, “Please… don’t be alarmed by the restraints. We will remove them once there’s no more risk of seizing.” I take a deep breath as the nurse slowly opens the door and allows me inside. The moment Lucy comes into view, my heart breaks all over again. A patient’s gown covers her slender frame, her visible colors having all been drained away. Where once her scales would have been the beautiful shade of light honeydew, they now appear muddied and sickly. A needle pierces her arm, attached to an IV drip, and the steady beeps of a heart rate monitor permeate the air. Another nurse attends to the equipment, glancing over at me and nodding before turning back to the machinery. I let out an involuntary shudder as I lay eyes upon the restraints that hold Lucy in place. Both of her hands and feet are fastened into padded leather cuffs that keep her limbs positioned safely to her sides. Her wings hang half-extended over the edges of the bed, also restrained by modified cuffs of their own. I instinctively want to run to her, unfasten her bindings and escape this place with her, but I clench my fist and shake off the foolish notion. I understand why they are needed… a being with inherent strength such as hers could easily cause destruction and chaos with the involuntary flailing and lashing out that could occur while having a seizure. All the same, it devastates me to see her in this position. Her chest rises and falls in a slow but steady rhythm as she stares through hazy, half-lidded eyes at the light fixture above her. I tentatively take a step towards her and speak. “... Lucy?” She doesn’t respond as she continues to stare upwards. I take another few steps nearer to her. “… It’s me.” As my form comes into the corner of her view, her head turns ever so slightly, her crest nudging the pillow under her neck in the opposite direction in which she looks. Her eyes slowly scan me as she tries to process who I am. I give her a small smile, the first I’ve been able to manage for the past eighteen hours. “Hey, beautiful.” Her eyes widen an almost unnoticeable amount as her pupils dilate to adjust to my outline. Her lips part as she weakly forms the word: “... Anon.” With one more step I conclude my journey to her bedside and lean down to gently kiss the top of her head. Tears begin welling up in my eyes as I stand upright again, looking down at her weakened, restrained form. She continues staring up at me, her only emotion being one of withering exhaustion. Despite having been unconscious for nearly an entire day, her body is completely spent of energy. I slide my hand into the space between her fingers, the cuff securing her hand in place tapping against the metal bars on the side of the bed. She gently squeezes. The nurse who is monitoring Lucy types something into a keyboard attached to a monitor on the wall before he speaks to me. “She’s still pretty out of it, but everything is looking good as far as her levels.” I look up at him as I wipe the tears away from my eyes with my free hand. “Is she going to be alright? When do you think she’ll be able to leave?” He gives me an apologetic shrug. “I’ll have to let the doctor talk to you about all that. He should be back in a few minutes.” I turn back to Lucy who continues to gaze up at me. I give her another smile as I gently stroke her cheek. She responds by curling up the corners of her mouth in a weak smile of her own. Her eyes are still filled with weariness and sadness, but she’s here with me now. A commotion outside the closed door snaps me out of the moment. A cacophony of voices fight for attention and drown out the squeaking compsognathus nurse’s words. The nurse attending the room speaks up. “Erm… the rest of the family?” I nod. “Her parents and brother.” He glances at Lucy, then at me. As he speaks, he gestures with his hands at the cramped space surrounding us. “We’re okay to take visitors right now, but… this room might not be big enough for everyone at once.” I reassure him. “I’ll let them know to just come in one at a time.” I lean down to kiss Lucy once more on the forehead and gently pat the back of her hand that holds my own before removing it from her grip. She offers me one more weak smile as I slide out the door. As Ripley, Samantha and Naser come into view, they all turn their attention from the flustered nurse to me and begin barraging me with questions. All three speak simultaneously, overwhelming my ears and brain with their aural onslaught. I raise my hands to signal for them to calm down and lower their voices; they oblige. I take a deep breath before speaking. “She’s awake, and she’s okay.” At this, they all let out a collected sigh of relief. “She’s still incredibly tired and out of it, so she probably won’t be very verbose with you. They’re still monitoring her and making sure she’s past the worst of it. You guys can go in, but only one at a time.” At this, they all glance at one another for a moment. Without words, both Ripley and Naser gently push Samantha forward who lets out a peep of surprise before looking up at me with a sense of resolve. She wants to see her daughter; she has mentally prepared herself for it the best she can. I give her a nod as I open the door and let her through. Her preparations were in vain. As I close the door behind her, I hear her let out a sobbing cry as she swiftly moves across the room to Lucy. Through her sobs I make out her sorrow-ridden words. “Lucy! My baby girl!” The door latches shut and I turn to face the other men of the family. They both look at me expectantly. I shift my gaze between the two of them, unsure what they want me to say. Finally, Ripley speaks up. “Did she say anything? About-” I shake my head. “She only said one word to me while I was with her, and that was my name. She recognized me, at least, but she’s still very out of it. The kind of ‘out of it’ Naser was this morning.” I glance in his direction. He scratches the back of his neck with an embarrassed look. “I’m doing better now. Had some more coffee.” At this, Ripley clicks his tongue. “More than you should have. You’ll be dead before you’re my age if you keep that shit up.” As the words leave his mouth, a sudden look of realization comes across his face as he glances around, remembering where he’s standing. “Uhh… probably shouldn’t use that ‘d-word’ in here…” He also scratches the back of his neck in a look of embarrassment similar to that of his son. The two of them step to the side as a pair of nurses approach while pushing a patient in a wheeled bed. One maintains the bed’s momentum and direction while the other guides the front end and manages the dangling IV bag. They don’t move with speed or severity, but still move with purpose as they transport this unconscious dinosaur. The two pterodactyls who stand in the hallway take up a considerable amount of space so the nurses have to weave past the two of them. Ripley even sucks in his gut a little to offer that extra half-inch of room. As the nurses make their way further down the hall, they step forward again. I offer what little extra information I have. “The nurse said that if Lucy is stable and doesn’t seize anymore… she can be transferred to a lower intensity room in about an hour.” As I mention the word “seize”, they both flinch. We all knew it was occurring from when the doctor informed us of Lucy’s status after we first brought her in, but it still hurts to think about it. After a few minutes, the door to Lucy’s room slowly opens as Samantha squeezes through the opening. She dabs tears away from her eyes with a tissue retrieved from her purse, and immediately throws her arms around me as she sees me, resuming her crying once more. Ripley steps over to the two of us and encloses both of us in an embrace as he nods to Naser, wordlessly telling him to take his turn. Naser slides past, giving his mother a quick pat on the arm and a nuzzle with his beak before entering Lucy’s room. Samantha sobs into both Ripley and I, muttering Lucy’s name between her sorrowful gulps. I gently pat her back, reassuring her that Lucy is okay. Ripley lets out a sigh as he strokes Samantha’s hair. This entire ordeal has been horrible for everyone involved, but she is taking it the worst of us all. The men of the family have to be strong for the sake of the women. A few minutes later, Naser reappears through the door. He gives us a small smile as he begins to speak. “She recognized me. She smiled… at…” His bottom lip begins to quiver as the faint smile he wore rapidly declines. He chokes out a sob as Samantha darts to her son and wraps her arms around him. I place a hand on his shoulder in reassurance as I glance at Ripley. He nods, takes a deep breath, and follows suit of seeing Lucy. I just want this all to be over. I want everyone to go back to smiling and laughing. After a couple of minutes, as Naser wipes his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket, a lanky brown triceratops in a white coat approaches us. He’s a different doctor than the one who had given us the first report last night, which makes sense as there have been a few shift changes between then and now. He glances at a clipboard in his hands, then up to Samantha, Naser and I. “Hello, everyone. I’m Dr. Krause. I’ve been overseeing Lucy for the past several hours.” He focuses on Naser. “Are you… Anon, the husband?” At this, Naser’s mouth curls into a grimace. “WHAT? Ew, gross, no! I’m her brother! HE’S the guy you’re looking for!” As he says this, he jabs a finger in my direction. Samantha puts a hand to the tip of her beak and lets out a miniscule giggle. I’ll take any modicum of happiness we can afford to have right now. I step forward and shake Dr. Krause’s hand. He glances at his clipboard again. “Well, everything is looking good as of right now. There’s still a very small chance that she may seize again, but I’m pretty confident that she’s through the worst of it. That said…” He looks back up at me. “We’re going to need to keep her here for at least another 48 hours to monitor her.” I notice Naser and Samantha glance at each other from the corner of my eye, then back to the doctor. He continues, “We’ll be transferring her up to the fifth floor at the top of the hour so long as everything is still stable.” The fifth floor… Behavioral and Mental Health. I spent some time studying a diagram of the hospital on a wall during my hours of waiting. When I saw the fifth floor, I anticipated this was the course we’d be taking. After all, when they were gathering the info about Lucy from me, I had no choice but to answer honestly… She struggles with self-harm. As the doctor bids us adieu to tend to another patient, Samantha looks up at me. “Why do they need to keep Lucy for so long? She’s awake, can’t she come home sooner than that?” I sigh and shake my head. “No. I figured this was going to happen.” As Samantha begins to ask for clarification, the door opens once more and Ripley joins us. His expression is stern but relieved. “That male nurse says everything is looking good. They’ll be getting ready to transfer her shortly.” He exhales sharply through his nose. “Hopefully her new room will be big enough to accommodate us all.” He turns my way. “We all got our turn to see her. It’s your show until she gets moved. We’ll be in the waiting room.” With these words, he pats me on the back, gives me a nod and wrangles the rest of his family towards the familiar chairs down the hallway. Samantha continues looking back at me over her shoulder, still unsure as to why Lucy needs to stay so long. Naser wears a sad expression, knowing the answer all too well. They need to monitor her to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself again. As I enter Lucy’s room once more, the attending nurse is beginning to unfasten the restraints on her wings. The large leather bands require some finesse to operate; I offer to assist him but he politely declines. Instead, I move back to Lucy’s side. She seems to be regaining a bit more awareness, glancing at the nurse as he handles her wings. Once the first is freed, she rolls her shoulders slightly as she stretches the appendage outwards, giving it a small shake before retracting it back towards her body. As the nurse finishes unfastening the rest of the safety restraints, another attendant enters the room pushing a wheeled transportation bed. This person, while dressed in typical nurse garments, appears different than many of the others I’ve seen. He looks less like a med school student and more like a bouncer at a nightclub, his bulging muscles threatening to exit his blue pullover shirt. Without asking, I know he’s from the fifth floor. Despite his intimidating appearance, the burly ankylosaurus offers a kind smile as he sees me. “We’re gonna be taking her up to room 515. You’re welcome to join us on the elevator.” He wheels the bed over to Lucy’s side and locks its wheels. He looks down at Lucy with the same kind smile he offered me and speaks in a gentle tone seemingly unfit for his frame. “Hi there, Lucy. My name’s Marco. I’ll be taking care of you. We’re gonna move you to this new bed, okay?” The two nurses each take positions to prepare for the maneuver. Marco looks back to Lucy once more. “Okay, make sure your wings are tucked in, alright?” She gives a slight nod and flexes her shoulders, bringing her wings as tight into her back as she can from her prone position. With a quick countdown, the two nurses grasp the ends of the sheet Lucy lays on and swing her over to the new bed in one fluid and gentle movement. As her IV bag is unhooked from its original metal tower and fastened to the one attached to the rolling bed, Marco disengages the wheel locks and begins the journey to room 515. As we pass through the portal exiting the room, the nurse who had been watching over Lucy quickly taps a keypad on the interior of the door. In response, the multicolor light array outside of the room changes color from a steady yellow to a blinking green. The four of us make our way to the patient transport elevator; once inside, Marco taps a keycard on his waist to a black strip, then pushes the button for floor 5. The metal doors slide open at our destination. Walls painted in a calming light blue greet us as we turn towards Lucy’s new room. This floor is much quieter than the lower level, with less hustle and bustle; instead, a few other nurses and attendants offer us warm smiles and nods as we traverse the hall. Marco swings open the door to room 515 and the two of them wheel the bed next to the stationary one positioned inside. Unlike the cramped, equipment-strewn room from which we traveled, this feels more like a hotel suite. A couch and cushioned chair flank either side of the entrance, while an end table holds an arrangement of colorful, though fake, flowers. An attached bathroom houses a toilet, sink and shower. There are still traces of this place being in a hospital: a smaller set of monitoring equipment rests next to the single twin-sized mattress and the television suspended from the ceiling appears to have been manufactured sometime in the 1990’s, but overall the vibe of this room is a dramatic improvement from the one downstairs. Only one aspect truly breaks the illusion of this room being a vacation spot: there are several security cameras in the corners that watch the space from various angles. Additionally, a few small green buttons adorn the walls in strategic locations. One is next to each of the chairs, and another is by the entrance. A similar green button is placed on either side of the bed frame. As Lucy is once again shifted from one bed to another, Marco offers her some encouraging words. As he does so, I withdraw my phone and send a quick text message to Samantha, letting her know which room we’re in. As I complete the message and tuck the device back into my pocket, Marco approaches me. “Hey, boss, let me have a word real quick.” I nod and follow the two of them back into the hall as they wheel the empty transport bed out. The other nurse gives a parting wave and continues down the hall with the vacant mattress as Marco turns to me just outside the closed door. He gives his usual warm smile but speaks with authority. “Alright. Your wife should be all set to relax and spend some time here with us. We’re happy to have you and her family here to support her and make her feel safe. That said, you saw the green buttons?” I nod, and he continues. “Those are silent alarms. I need you to hit one of those if anything starts going badly. We’ll be there in a jiffy to help. We have cameras in the room as well, and we’ll be monitoring her while she sleeps.” He sizes me up briefly. “Speaking of, you look spent, my friend. I assume you’ve been here since she arrived?” I nod again. “It was a rough night.” He gives me a reassuring look. “Well, she’s in safe hands. If you want to head home and get some shut-eye, you can. Otherwise, there’s that couch in there. It’s not the most comfortable one around, but if you don’t mind the backache you can crash there. It’s no problem. Bathroom’s free to use for you as well, but we do ask that you let us know when Lucy goes. We don’t have cameras in the bathroom so we’d like to have someone on standby just in case.” I nod once more and bid Marco goodbye. His words were kind and professional, but he never outright stated the reason for all this safety and monitoring. It is unsaid, but fully understood. I reenter the room. Lucy’s bed is in an upright position, though she is still mostly reclined. Restraints no longer bind her limbs; her hands rest on her lap as she looks out the window, taking in the view of the city beyond. As I close the door behind me, she turns my direction. When her eyes meet mine, she casts her gaze downwards, wearing a pained expression. “Anon… I… I’m sorry…” In an instant I cross the room and wrap my arms around her. I gently embrace her, bending over the side of her bed, taking care not to jostle her too harshly in her weakened state. I hold her as close to me as I possibly can as I speak. “It’s okay, Lucy. I’m here for you. I love you.” She trembles. Her breath hitches in her throat. I pull her closer, stroking the back of her head with my hand as I cradle her. After a moment, her weakened arms slowly lift and return my embrace with as much force as she can muster. I repeat my words: “I love you.” A few minutes later, the rest of the Aaron family enter the room. They each greet Lucy again who is steadily regaining her lucidity. She is still exhausted but responds to her family with more than one word. Naser hands me one of the two coffee cups with which he entered the room; I graciously accept the liquid alertness. I know I’ll need to sleep eventually, but the more time I can spend with Lucy right now, the better. Several hours pass as everyone visits and keeps one another company. Naser shares with us some of his recent exploits in medical school, including having scored top marks on his semester finals. The topic of one of his papers was, of all things, the viability of cross-species relationships and how their increase will impact the medical world. He gives Lucy and I a smile as he recounts this, not outwardly saying we were an inspiration for the topic but heavily implying it all the same. For a moment, I consider making a joke that Lucy and I should have come to Naser for advice a week ago when… I look at Lucy who rests in her upright bed, smiling as best she can at the lively conversation of her family. When she offers her own words to contribute, everyone’s attention quickly turns to her, offering all the support and love they can. Lucy… the woman who had just told me a week prior that she wanted to have a baby with me, now imprisoned in a camera-laden room, being forced to prove her ability to not harm herself. I let out an involuntary shudder. Ripley notices my action and turns my way. “Raptor Jesus, Anon. You look like hell.” I shake the bleariness away from my eyes. “Just tired is all.” I glance at my watch; the numbers on its surface oscillate and dance in a fashion quite peculiar for a timepiece such as this. I squint to make out the hands and the numbers to which they point… 6:55 PM. I’ve been awake for over thirty-six hours now. Taking note of how much I struggle to read the face of my watch, Ripley plants his hands on his knees and rises to his feet. “Well, troop. I think we need to give Lucy a chance to get some rest.” Hesitantly, Samantha and Naser also stand, glancing at Lucy who still holds a weak, exhausted smile in their direction. They all take turns wishing her good night, giving her gentle hugs and tender nuzzles as they do so. Ripley looks my way once more. “Anon? You staying or leaving?” I give the couch a look. Marco was right; that thing does not look comfortable. All the same… “I’ll be staying. Thanks.” Ripley gives me a nod and a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll be back first thing in the morning. Samantha will fetch you a fresh set of clothes.” He sniffs the air lightly, then leans a bit closer to whisper. “Maybe consider getting a shower.” As they offer their final goodbyes, the three of them depart. I turn to Lucy who reclines in her bed, eyes fluttering as she fights back sleep. I approach her and put my hand on hers. “Do you want me to recline your bed some more?” She nods. I fiddle with the dangling apparatus at the side of the bed and push the “Descend” button. The bed slowly lowers to a more leveled position. I release the remote and pull Lucy’s blankets up further, tucking her in as she nestles into the sheets and closes her eyes. I give her a kiss on the forehead. As I turn towards the bathroom, she mutters something under her breath: “... didn’t… acci… sor…” I spin around and step closer to her to make out her words, but she is already asleep. Her chest rises and falls with her steady breath as she succumbs fully to slumber. I watch her for a moment longer before I make my way into the shower. As the warm water runs over my body, washing away a day and a half of sweat, tears and pain, I can think of nothing but Lucy. We avoided the topic all day. We never mutually agreed on it, but everyone knew that it was still too soon to ask the most pressing question of all. We desperately wanted clarification about what happened and why, but just couldn’t bring ourselves to ask. Samantha is most certainly still in denial, insisting that this entire ordeal was nothing more than a simple accident. That’s why she was so confused by Lucy being admitted to the fifth floor. The rest of us, though… I shake my head. She’ll be able to tell us soon enough… or maybe she never will. If this was an attempt to take her life, what’s to say she won’t try it again? I had Samantha throw out all my pills, but that doesn’t mean she has no other means at her disposal. I can’t watch her every hour of every day, so how can I hope to keep her safe- “Wrong. That’s not what I said.” Ripley’s words from earlier echo in my mind. “I asked you if you would be the man to be there for her when things were difficult. I asked you to be the man Lucy needed you to be: someone to love and support her.” I do love her. I do support her. I just don’t want her to hurt herself. I can’t imagine a life without her. As I shut off the shower and towel myself off, the temporary wakefulness the water afforded me is instantly drained away. I rock on my feet as I struggle to maintain consciousness. I quickly throw on my shirt and pants again and make my way out of the bathroom. A small cabinet near the entrance holds a spare blanket and pillow; I retrieve them and head to the couch. As I set the pillow down, I glance up at Lucy one more time. She sleeps soundly, her breath steady and peaceful. I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow. — A lot of people say “War is hell,” but, you know what? It ain’t that bad, really. Of course, it certainly helped that we weren’t actually at war with any other countries and hadn’t been for the past several years. Sure, there was still some tension and the occasional pissed off terrorist who screamed their Lizlamic calls to prayer at the top of their lungs while brandishing a machete before being turned into swiss cheese, but overall things weren’t too bad in the sun-baked desert. I thought about this as I took a sip of coffee from the tin cup I kept next to my workstation. It had been a productive day of shitposting on social media, one of the last I’d have to do. Four days… only four days away from getting my papers signed and my grateful ass shipped back home. I almost couldn’t sleep, I was so excited about getting to see Lucy again. All I had to go off of those past three years were a single photograph of her I kept tucked into my shirt pocket and the letters we exchanged. I always kept those secret from the other guys in my team; they assumed I had a girl back home, but I wasn’t about to give them ammunition with which to ridicule me. If they found out my intended was a pterodactyl, I’d have been in for a verbal beatdown. Well… it was only four days away. Maybe I could show them the picture as I boarded my wagon, telling them to enjoy playing grab-ass with one another as I headed home to my beautiful ptero soon-to-be-wife. I smiled as I considered my parting gift. Across the courtyard, I noticed a pair of bobbing, gray wings, not entirely unlike those of the woman who waited for me back home. Weston. I wouldn’t mind joining him for a bite to eat. After all, we were only going to have a few more chances to chat before my time was up. I’d have to exchange contact info with him so we could stay in touch once his contract is done. “Aimbot! The hell are you doing?” I was startled by a shrill voice piercing the silence. I spun around in my rickety office chair to see a perpetually irate dilophosaurus, Private First Class Hennesy. I bet this prick was gonna try to use my computer to look up some smutty fanfictions or something. He’d better not look up actual porn; MP would banish him to the shadow realm before our slow-as-shit satellite internet connection finished rendering the pixels of the .jpeg properly. I gave Buggy the verbal thrashing he deserved before heading downstairs and out into the scorching sun. Sweat began instantly accumulating on my brow and the rubber in my boots began melting. Let’s hop to, I didn’t need to stay in this sweltering heat any longer than necessary. I looked up as I neared the center of the courtyard to see Weston traveling the other direction, heading my way. I raised a hand in greeting as he approached. “What’s up, Westie?” Weston stops. I similarly freeze in place, a chill firing through my body as the strangeness of the situation begins to take hold. He looks at me with an intense gaze, one filled with remorse and sorrow, and speaks. “This is goodbye, Anon.” I scrunch my face in surprise. “Huh? The hell are you talking about? I’m still here for another four days.” He speaks again. “This is where we say goodbye. I didn’t get a chance to do so properly before, but now maybe I can.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, but as I remove my hand I notice it vibrates at an intense frequency, like I’ve got my arm on a clothes dryer as it achieves maximum spin cycle speeds. I look back at Weston. “What the fuck, Westie? Again, I’m still here for four more days. Why the sappy shit out of nowhere?” He takes a step closer to me. He stops and looks up and to his left. I follow his gaze, passing my eyes across a melting sky and a boiling earth, the colors of which begin to swirl together in a maddening Daliesque display. An object is frozen in midair. The metal, cylindrical shape comes to a rounded tip, its apparent trajectory pointed straight at where Weston stands. It does not move, but the blur of color streaming upwards from it threatens that it may unlock itself from its suspended position at any moment. Weston turns his attention back to me. He no longer stands upon sand and dirt, but upon a sinking void of brown and black. “This is where you watch me die. This is where our time together comes to an end.” I shake my head and bellow at him. “No, Weston! This is bullshit! This can’t be it! I don’t believe you!” He gives me a remorseful smile. “Afraid it’s the truth. Once that RPG finishes its journey, that’s the end for me. You, though… you’ll keep on living.” Tears begin welling up in my eyes. I clench my teeth, fighting to move forward, to push Weston out of the way of the rocket and replace his form with my own. My legs are weighed down by an inescapable force, as though I’m waist deep in quicksand with cinder blocks tied to my ankles. Despite this, I desperately fight for every inch I can muster as I sink deeper into the earth. Weston sighs. “It’s no use, Anon. This has already happened. The book has been written, and my chapter has closed. There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing you could have done.” I scream at him. “BULLSHIT! I could have saved you! I could have stopped this! Why didn’t I see the rocket?! Why didn’t I tell you to turn around and run?!” “It’s not your fault, Anon.” I claw at the earth as it continues swallowing me whole, sucking me down towards an endless pit. I cry out to Weston, not for him to rescue me… but to rescue him. He takes several slow steps towards me, closing the distance between us. He stands upon nothing, the ground having all but vanished, and crouches down to look upon me as I sink deeper into the void. He smiles. “It’s too late for me, bud. What’s done is done. You weren’t able to protect me… but you were kind to me. You treated me as an equal instead of as a freak. You shared laughs with me, you listened to me when I needed someone to talk to, and you cared about me. We didn’t have much time together, but… you were the best friend I ever had.” With one final heave, I stretch my hand out as far as it will extend. I can’t reach him; I can only grasp in his direction, inches away. As the sky cracks and the earth crumbles, the only sound I can hear are his words. “You couldn’t save me… but that was never your job. You loved and supported me, and that meant more to me than you can possibly imagine.” He extends his hand towards mine. However, it is not to grip my arm and pull me free. He gingerly places a single, gray feather in my fingers. I take hold of it. — I jolt upright from the couch, sucking in breath as I regain my sense of surroundings. The melting earth around me is replaced with the tranquil blue hue of the hospital room walls. The sun is beginning to peek through the window; it must still be pretty early, but that does mean I probably slept for over eight hours. As my head clears, I see Lucy swinging her legs out of her bed, a concerned look on her face as she speaks. “Anon, are you okay? You had a nightmare.” I quickly bolt off of the couch and over to her side. “Hey, hey, you don’t have to get up. Take it easy.” I look over her shoulder for the IV bag, worrying that her movements might dislodge the connection in her arm, but it appears that someone removed it last night. I’m surprised I slept right through another nurse coming in the room; I really was tired. She smiles at me. “Oh, come on, Anon. I’m not crippled. I’m sure I can-” As she attempts to stand, her knees buckle and she plops back down on the bed. I catch her arm and steady her. Her wings flutter, trying to keep her upright and balanced properly. She looks up at me with surprise and a little embarrassment. “Well… maybe I should take it slower, then.” She glances to the side, her cheeks reddening slightly. “Erm… I do have to go pee, though…” I nod to her and press the “Call Nurse” button on her bedside remote. I don’t use one of the green buttons; from what Marco said, those are for emergency use. I sit on the bed next to Lucy with her hands in my own as we wait for the nurse. She wraps her wing around me in a soft embrace and looks at me. “Do you remember what your dream was about?” I glance at her wings. Her gray feathers subtly twitch as she notices me looking at them. I gently run my fingers across their downy softness. “... Just a sad memory from my time overseas.” Lucy inhales slightly, then glances down. I never gave her the full breakdown of everything that happened. She knows that I was involved in an explosion that left me with some scars, and that the same explosion killed another soldier at my base. She never pressed me for more information than that, simply being relieved and thankful that I made it home in one piece, albeit a little delayed from my anticipated return date due to the medical attention I needed. However, she knows about my nightmares. They had been less and less frequent, but the first few weeks I was back home were very rough. I’d wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night at best, and screaming as I clutched at my chest and arms at worst. A few times, I’d turn to Lucy who would be sitting bolt upright, panicked and asking if I was okay, and it would take a few moments for me to realize that she wasn’t the friend I lost. She was always willing to hold me close and comfort me as my breath steadied, but she didn’t know the extent of the trauma I relived on each of those nights. She may have had her own demons to wrestle with, but Lucy wasn’t the only one of us with emotional baggage. As she rests her head on my shoulder, the door opens and a nurse enters the room. A far cry from the muscular Marco, this petite, older woman gives Lucy and I a smile. “Good morning, Lucy! I hope you slept well?” Lucy nods, still keeping her head on my shoulder. I speak up on her behalf. “I pressed the call button, she needs to use the restroom.” “Ah, no problem!” The chipper nurse heads over to Lucy’s side and helps her to her feet. I brace Lucy’s other side as she stands, her legs still slightly wobbly but capable of holding her upright. The two of them head into the bathroom and close the door. I scratch the back of my head and let out a yawn. Though I got a lot of hours of sleep, it wasn’t the most restful due to the uncomfortable couch. I bring out my phone, seeing that it’s already past 7 AM. I tap out another quick text message to Samantha, letting her know that Lucy and I are awake. I don’t know if they’re up yet, but Samantha is certainly the most responsive of the three of them when it comes to text messages. I lean back on the bed, placing my palms on the mattress behind my body to keep me propped up. My dream was about Weston… but was that it? I’d relived the scene so many times that it basically played on autopilot whenever my brain decided to conjure up that horror, but… this dream felt different. Something about it wasn’t normal. My eye twitches as I try to recall its strangeness, but just like most dreams we want to remember, it escapes my mind’s grasp. I glance at my phone once more. Wednesday, November 8th. A small calendar icon displays at the top of the screen, reminding me of my appointment with Dr. Fitzgerald. I sigh and pull up my phone’s email app. It’s too early to call; their office will still be closed until at least 9 AM. May as well send this now: From: anon.mous02@gruumail.com To: r.fitzgerald@vbpmc.com Subject: Appointment Cancellation Dr. Fitzgerald, Unfortunately I won’t be able to make it to my appointment this evening. I’m at Volcaldera West with my wife, Lucy. She won’t get out for probably another 24 hours at least. Sorry for the inconvenience. Hopefully we can reschedule. Thanks, Anon Mous As I tap the Send button, I hear Lucy’s muffled voice from inside the bathroom. After a moment, the door cracks open and the nurse pokes her head through. “Lucy said she wants to take a shower, so I’m gonna go ahead and help her with that. She’ll be out in a few minutes, okay?” “Sounds good. I’ll just be outside.” The bathroom door closes once again and I hear the shower start up. I look at my phone once more. It needs to be done. I don’t want to do it, but it’s cruel to just leave the two of them hanging like this. I have to call Reed and Trish to let them know why we stood them up. I step out into the hall and click on the digits Reed sent me via Faceboop Messenger. It opens my keypad app, inserting the digits and awaiting my confirmation to call by clicking the green symbol of a phone. I take a deep breath, glance around to ensure that my conversation won’t bother anyone out in the hall, and tap the button. *ring, ring* It’s still pretty early, I doubt- “Hello?” “Uhh… hey, Reed.” “Anon?!” Reed whispers something away from his phone’s mouthpiece, and Trish’s muffled voice responds. His voice becomes a bit more echoey; I’m guessing he just put me on speaker. “Hey, man! We- we missed you on Monday night. Is everything okay?” “I’m really sorry about that, guys… I would have called you sooner, but… Lucy’s in the hospital right now.” They both gasp. Trish’s voice comes forward. “Oh my God, is she okay?!” “She’s doing fine now. Much better than she was. We may be able to get out of here in another day or so.” This time, Reed speaks up. “What happened?” I sigh. “I’d… rather not get into that.” Trish chimes in again. “Well, which hospital are you at? We could-” Her voice is cut off. I don’t hear anything for a moment, then I can barely make out the sound of Trish whispering, though her words are unclear. Reed’s voice comes back over the line. “We’re sorry to hear it, man. Tell her… tell her that we’re sending our best, if you can.” I sense a twinge of sadness in his words. I think, somehow, he knows this is related to them. “Thanks, Reed. Trish. Maybe we can try again another time. See you around.” “Take care, bro.” *beep beep beep* I place the device back in my pocket and re-enter the room. I don’t hear the shower running anymore, but the two are still in the bathroom. After another minute, they exit, a clean and slightly embarrassed Lucy being helped by the nurse back to her bed. Lucy fusses. “I could have done all that by myself.” The nurse politely rebukes her. “Now, now. We’re here to help you out. No need to push yourself harder than you need to while you’re still feeling under the weather.” She helps Lucy get situated on the edge of the bed again and hoists her legs into a lying position once more. As she claps her hands together, she turns to address both of us. “So! Who’s in the mood for breakfast?” Almost in unison, both of our stomachs rumble audibly. I realize that I hadn’t eaten dinner last night, completely abandoning the sandwich that Rick and Bill brought for me on the plastic waiting room chairs. Lucy similarly hasn’t eaten anything substantial since the entire ordeal began. The nurse titters at the sounds our insides make. “Well, well! I guess that means both of you are hungry! I’ll go get you two something to eat.” With that, she makes her way out of the room, smiling at us both as she passes beyond the door. I move across the room and sit next to Lucy. She immediately grabs my hand and squeezes it. She looks at me with a remorseful expression and opens her mouth as though she wants to say something, but stops herself short. I don’t want to push her before she’s ready to talk, so I simply scoot closer to her and put my arm around her shoulders. I’m here for you, Lucy. After a few minutes, the nurse returns with two trays of hospital food. They look about as appetizing as… hospital food, but to our growling stomachs they represent nourishment and sustenance. We graciously accept the meals and dig in. As we finish, the rest of the family arrives once more; Samantha carries with her a picnic basket full of sandwiches and snacks for later, and Naser offers Lucy a book that he begins excitedly telling her about. You would think that the family was enjoying a nice vacation together instead of sitting in a mental health monitoring room inside of a hospital. The day passes without incident. We continue chatting and spending time with one another, enjoying the lunch Samantha brought along around noon. Lucy seems to be in high spirits, able to keep up with the conversation for the most part, though looking a little more worn out than usual. Thankfully, her color had been returning as she drank water and refueled her internal food stores. Once again, nobody has the heart to bring up the question that we all so desperately want answered. It’s probably for the best… if we’re trying to strengthen Lucy’s mental health, it might be best for us to not interrogate her as to whether her overdose was an accident or not. As five o’clock rolls around, the members of the Aaron family begin saying their goodbyes for the day. I thank them for coming by to visit again, letting them know that I’ll text again in the morning, hopefully with news that Lucy will be ready to go home. I see the three of them into the hallway and wave goodbye once more as they head towards the elevators. I place my hands on my sides and stretch, hearing my back pop in reply to the motion. It’s been a lot of sitting for the past several days. I’m getting anxious to get some exercise again. I really hope we’ll be able to go home tomorrow. I want all of this to be over. I just want to be in my bed again with the woman I love. I want her to get better. “Good afternoon, Anon.” The voice behind me causes me to jump in surprise. I spin around and see a familiar tyrannosaurus holding a briefcase in his stubby arm. “... Dr. Fitzgerald? What are you doing here?” He shines his gentle, toothy smile at me. “What else? I’m here for our appointment.”