Liv’s eyes shoot open, a gasp tearing its way from her throat. Panic washes her mind in droves, her fight or flight instinct pushed to the extreme. Danger. She was still in danger. She pulls herself up, her heart thrumming in her chest. On instinct, her hand slams against her chest, preparing to prime an explosion. If that demon wanted to kill her, she’d make sure it’d…

  Where was the glow?

  Liv looks down to her hands with unabashed confusion. They were bare, unburdened from metal or mud. She touches her face. Clean. She was in the hospital wing again, enveloped in one of their paper thin blankets from the waist down. The smell was the same, that sterile scent tickling her nostrils. The privacy curtain was closed, though the sounds of idle chatter belied the true occupancy of the room. The only furniture of note was the small side table that always sat at the side of the bed, a small vase sitting on its surface; though, no flower adorns its pit. All of those weren’t what first caught her eye, however. That title went to the sleeping forms of Charlotte and Anthony in chairs on either side of her bed.

  Anthony snored idly, his arms slumped, hair splaying off his tilted back head. Charlotte had a bit more class to her, her head silently hung forward. Her leg was crossed over the other, her folded arms neatly propping her unconscious form up. Liv blinks. Was this some sort of afterlife? She pinches her arm, wincing as a shot of pain spiders up her arm. She was alive, all right.

  The privacy curtain suddenly swings open, a familiar voice ringing out in her ears.

  “Yo Charlotte.” Donovan calls, a bag draped in his arms. He closes the curtain behind him, the rails screeching against the holds. “Got you a meal! Wanna eat-?”

  Said bag clatters to the floor, Donovan’s eyes widening as he looks upon Liv. Liv’s eyes linger on him for a moment, though they’re quickly torn away by the bag he dropped. The smell wafts up to her nose, a pleasant scent that makes her stomach rumble. She licks her lips, a nervous smile creeping across her face.

  “Ya don’t reckon I could take that off yer hands.” She says, her voice more raspy than she would’ve expected.

  “LIV!” Donovan shouts, a smile spreading across his rejuvenated face. He takes a few bounding steps over, his arms wrapping around her in a tight hug. She seizes up, completely unprepared for the contact. Her muscles quickly relax as the warmth leaks into her skin. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve sworn you died! Seriously, why didn’t you wake me up when another demon came!?”

  “Reckoned ya wouldn’t wake.” Liv responds truthfully. “Didn’t have time to get to ya when I knew I was in danger too.”

  “Jesus.” Donovan mutters, pulling himself away from the embrace. He rolls his eyes, walking back to pluck the bag from the floor. He tosses it to Liv. She catches it with stumbling hands, nearly dropping upon first try. “You can have it. I’m sure Charlotte won't be too mad that you stole her food.”

  Liv glances at Charlotte, though her focus is snatched by the cavalcade of aromas wafting into her waiting nose. A line of drool drips from the corner of her mouth. God, it felt like she hadn’t eaten in days. She quickly snatches the styrofoam container from its plastic prison, her fingers ripping through the flimsy filament with ease. Inside was a simple Beef Stew, far thicker than a stew had any right to be. Didn’t matter to Liv. It looked glorious.

  Liv wolfs it down with reckless abandon, the tastes singing across her tongue, sliding down her throat as quick as they came. It wasn’t the best thing she ever tasted, but damn if it wasn’t the best meal she’s ever had.

  Donovan smirks, slipping just next to her. Liv wasn’t paying attention to him, too engrossed in filling her empty stomach to be bothered. If she was, she would’ve prepared herself more thoroughly. Donovan, with a quick swipe of his hand, raps his knuckle against Charlotte’s armored shoulder. She jolts awake, sleep popping away from her eyes like bubbles.

  “Huh?” She murmurs, whipping her head around to Donovan. “Oh, Good morning.”

  “Mornin’ Char!” Donovan chirps. “Notice anything different today?”

  Charlotte furrows her brow, giving Donovan a once over. After a moment, she sniffs, cocking a brow. “Did you purchase a new cologne? You have a stronger umami smell about you than usual.”

  Donovan blinks, pulling the collar of his shirt up to whiff his scent. Did he? If he did, he couldn’t tell.

  “Uh, no.” He says. He gently lays his fingers on her head, swiveling her head in the other direction. “That's what's different.”

  Charlotte gears to protest the touch, but stops as a gasp tears its way from her lips. Liv pulls herself away from her meal just in time to see Charlotte leap from her seat, arms outstretched toward her. She crashes into Liv, the remains of the beef stew rocketing into the air. Charlotte didn’t seem to mind it, far too engrossed in squeezing the life out of Liv.

  “You’re safe! You had me ill with worry, Liv!” Charlotte’s muffled voice sounds out through Liv’s ear, obstructed by her position within the crook of Liv’s neck. She was far more prepared for this one, but she wasn’t ready for the bone crushing force that Charlotte implored.

  “Thank… Ya… Kindly.” Liv mutters between careful breaths. “But… Yer chokin’ me over ‘ere.”

  “Oh, my apologies!” Charlotte calls, quickly extracting herself from the hug. Liv breathes a sigh of relief. The sentiment was appreciated, but she couldn’t truly appreciate anything if she were dead. “It warms my heart to see you awake! Before I forget,” She wraps around the bed, reaching under to produce Liv’s bag. She zips it open to reveal everything intact, including her gauntlets. Charlotte holds it out to Liv, a smile spreading across her thin lips. “I managed to recover your bag before I left the Strata. I believed you would want it back.”

  Liv accepts it, a strange sense of familiar joy bubbling up in her chest. She plucks her gauntlets from the bag's depths, slipping them on finger by finger. They were being so kind despite her mistakes. She would’ve thought them mad at her– she knows she would’ve been in their shoes. She jeopardized everything because of hurt feelings.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Uh, thank ya.” Liv manages to murmur out, her voice meeker than she would’ve thought herself capable of. She shifts the bag next to her as she continues, grasping for the right words. “I, uh, reckon I should be apologizin' for runnin'. It... It wasn't right o' me to do that, 'specially since we were in a Strata. I almost got ya killed 'cause I was stupid." Her eyes dart to Anthony, a strange pang echoing through her chest. It felt like what she felt at the Gala, but somehow more. Magnified. "Both of ya."

  Charlotte tilts her head, examining the expression on Liv’s face. It seems she finds what she’s looking for, her smile growing to a beaming simper. "I accept your apology, Liv. I've more than come to terms with how you and I treated the situation. Thank you."

  “Thanks.” Liv mutters, her eyes drifting to the other subject of the apology. “Is he aight?”

  Both Donovan and Charlotte swivel to look at Anthony’s slumped frame. Donovan lets out a snicker, jabbing his thumb in Anthony’s general direction. “Both him and Charlotte have been here since you got here. He’s barely slept.”

  “As have I!” Charlotte interjects, her pointer jabbing into her chest.

  “You had an event to go through two days back, so you haven’t been here the whole time.” Donovan teases, his smirk growing larger as Charlotte huffs frustratingly.

  “I don't get a choice in decorum. If I could have missed that event, I would have.”

  Liv sighs. She felt... Well, she didn't know. Everything felt like a blur passing her by. Then, her eyebrows furrow as her mind latches onto Donovan's words, her head whipping to look to Charlotte. That was strange, it almost sounded like he said "two days".

  “‘Scuse me,” Liv interjects. “How long was I out?”

  Charlotte turns her eye to Liv for a split second before turning back to Donovan. “You haven’t told her?”

  “I wanted to wake you up first. I figured your reaction would be funny.” An irritating snicker peels from his lips, a gleam shining across his eyes. “And it was. Who would’ve guessed?”

  Charlotte scoffs, folding her arms across her chest neatly. Her tone softens as she turns away from Donovan, like a doctor breaking bad news to a patient. “You’ve been out for a week.”

  Liv’s jaw goes slack, her eyes widening to the size of pans, damn near popping out of her skull. She had been knocked out, more than was probably healthy for a normal person– but never a whole week! She pats down her body, looking for any sort of lesion or break. She finds none.

  Before she has more time to panic about the damage she may have suffered, the curtain pulls back, a figure sliding through. He’s of a fairer complexion, dirty blonde hair shaved tight to his head. Scars run down his features, his left eye milky white without an iris. An open trench coat drapes across his shoulders, though the left sleeve is tied off do to his seeming lack of left arm. Most of his ensamble is beige, though black boots break the trend.

  “Liv Boss?” He questions, his voice a gruff boom.

  Liv stares on for a moment before responding with a greeting of her own. He nods his assent, pushing past Charlotte and Donovan. It was unnecessary as they were already moving for him, but onward he treks. Once at her bed side, he reaches into his jacket, a check materializing from his jacket. He tosses it to her, the small piece of paper wafting down slowly.

  “Your check.” He says simply. “Congratulations on your success.”

  “Oh.” Liv says, her hands scooping it up gently. Her eyes scan the amount, a low whistle escaping her lips. It was nearly double what it was last time. “Thank ya kindly. Woulda reckoned George’d come down to give it to me though.”

  “The Warden is very busy with work outside the Beta. He doesn’t have the time to hand deliver checks to every injured recruit.” The shaven man says, his eye narrowing with the emphasis of “Warden”. “And you would do well to remember your place near the bottom of the food chain.”

  Liv cocks her head, her face knitting up with confusion. That seemed an overreaction if there ever was one. Was saying George’s name that bad? She lets it go. She wasn’t good at reading this kind of stuff, especially with someone she just met. It was probably one of those societal no-nos George told her about. She’d have to ask him or Charlotte when she got the chance.

  “Aight.” Liv says. “That all?”

  The man stares at her for a long second before shaking his head slowly, a sigh escaping his mouth. “No… I am also here to congratulate you on your rank up.”

  “Rank up?” Liv’s attention shifts to Donovan and Charlotte. “When did that happen?”

  The man before them raises his hand before Donovan can speak, shushing him handedly. “You earned it due to you and your team's quick, efficient, and exemplary work. Despite your lack of decorum,” His expression doesn’t change, but Liv could swear he gave her an annoyed glare. “Your team’s accounts and evidence of your strength has been noted by the Initiative.”

  A smile creeps across Liv’s face slowly, fighting the urge to redden in the face. “Uh. Thank ya again.”

  The man nods simply, extracting himself from his place beside her. Just before he exits, Liv stops him, imbuing her residual strength into her voice.

  “If ya get the chance, can ya tell George I said ‘thank ya’?”

  The shaven man stares at her for a long moment, his face a tapestry of emotions– most negative. After a second, he grunts, turning once more.

  “I will tell The Warden that you said so. Good day.” With that, he closes the curtain behind him, his footsteps fading into the background. Liv falls back onto the bed, a content breath escaping her nose. She shifts as twin weights sink on either side of her bed.

  “Well aren’t you a master of conversation?” Donovan teases, a smile spread across his face. Charlotte mirrored the expression, though hers was far more amused while trying to be more controlled.

  “Ain’t funny.” Liv grumbles, her arms crossing tight around her chest. “I was tryin’ my hardest.”

  “And we can appreciate that.” Charlotte muses, her hand falling over legs gently. “We’ll work on it together if you help me learn a bit about Synth.”

  “I reckoned you were a master.” Liv mutters, pushing herself back up.

  “Far from.” Charlotte sighs. “Theres only so much I can learn from books, and I would rather run Pierre through my chest than ask one of my other peers for help.”

  Liv nods slowly. That seemed a bit extreme, but she could easily look past that. “Aight, I can do that.”

  “How fortuitous! I shall see you soon, then.” Charlotte clasps her hands together, pushing herself from Liv’s bedside. Donovan follows, shooting Liv fingerguns as he inches toward the door.

  “You’re gonna let me piggyback off that, right?”

  Liv hums, tilting her head to the side. The training method she had in mind wouldn’t be impossible with two people, though she worried for his safety. If he was sure, then she would. He smiles with her assent, peeling out the room. That left her alone with Anthony’s unconscious form, his snores still filling the room. He hadn’t awoken, even with ruckus around him. She would speak to him later, but that wasn’t her focus now. Slowly, she pulls herself from her bed, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. She felt like, for the first time, that she knew more than someone around her– and what a joyous feeling that was.