WAKING UP IN a medical room is a strange experience. Especially when it's a medical room for aliens, not the human-focused ones I'm used to waking up in.
I open my eyes and see a white ceiling and white walls. I hear a soft beeping sound and smell a faint antiseptic scent. I feel a dull ache in my head and my arm, and a bandage wrapped around my forehead.
I sit up slowly, and look around. I'm in a large bed, with a thin blanket covering me. There are other beds in the room, but only one of them is occupied. And the person in it is someone I recognize.
"Llywelyn!" I gasp and jump out of my bed, rushing to his side.
He's lying on his back, his eyes closed and his breathing even. His face is—well, it's blue, like it always is, but... it's. Paler blue than normal. I can't really explain it. It's just... more ashen. His veins pulse a wobbly blue with each heartbeat. There are tubes and wires attached to his chest, his arms, and his head. He looks fragile and helpless, nothing like the strong, proud fish I know.
I feel a pang of guilt and fear in my chest.
Is he okay?
Is he alive?
Well. He is breathing, I can clearly see that. And his veins are flickering rapidly. So he's... he is alive. I'm sure of that.
I reach out and touch his cheek, gently. His skin is warm, but not burning. I can feel his pulse under my fingertips, steady and strong.
Thank goodness. He's...
He's steady, at least.
I sigh in relief and pull up a chair next to his bed. I sit down and take his hand in mine. He doesn't react, but I don't mind. I just want to be close to him. To feel that he's okay.
I don't know what...
No—
I swallow.
That's right. The explosion. The rubble.
If it weren't for Mira... we'd be dead. We'd both be dead.
And Llywelyn would have died because of me.
My hand squeezes his hard enough that his unconscious face twists in pain, and I drop his hand in an instant. I shouldn't... I shouldn't hurt him more.
I lean forward and rest my head on his bed, near his shoulder. I can hear his breathing and feel his warmth. I close my eyes and try to calm down.
It's okay.
He's alive.
He's going to be okay.
Mira saved us.
Because she's...
Mira.
I sigh again.
What am I doing?
What am I going to do?
I almost lost him.
I gave up... I chose this stupid fish over my home. over my family. My friends. Hestia and—I...
I can't. Think about all that. I can't process it right now. Especially not now.
But this...
"Stupid. Idiot..." I murmur. My voice is far more strained with tears than I want it to be.
This stupid fish. Nearly killed himself after I went and chose him. So what? I didn't want him to be injured on my behalf. I didn't want him to hurt for me. And now—
Now he's here.
Hurt and weak and... all because of me. Because I'm so selfish.
I sniffle and wipe my eyes. I don't want to cry. Not now. Not here. Not in front of him.
I lift my head and look at his face. His long lashes are dark against his pale blue skin. His lips are slightly parted, and I can see his sharp teeth peeking out. I—I want. To say that he's cute. Peaceful. Like he always is every time I catch him sleeping.
But I just... can't. I'm too terrified.
I pull his hand up and press his knuckles to my cheek, closing my eyes.
I don't want to lose him.
I can't.
I want to say it. I want to tell him.
But he's not awake and he won't hear me.
I open my mouth anyway. "Llywelyn... I... I'm so sorry. I—"
The door of the medical room slides open, and I turn my head to see who it is.
It's Mira. She's carrying a tray with a plate of food and a cup of water. She looks at me and gasps. The food nearly goes flying with the little excited dance she does.
"Sarah! You're awake!" She exclaims and sets the tray down on a nearby table. She rushes to my side, her gem eyes shining with joy. "How do you feel? Are you okay? Do you need anything? You were so hurt and bleeding and Master was worried—"
"I'm fine." I cut her off, and I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I'm just a little sore."
"Oh, good! I'm so glad! I had to look through a lot of rubble to find you two! I was really worried."
"You saved us." I say, and my voice is sincere. "Thank you, Mira. You're... you're amazing."
She giggles and does a little wiggle. "Oh, no. I know that you two would do the same for me if you got out first!"
I...
Do not think we physically could have done the same thing she did. Assuming my fuzzy memory isn't lying to me, Mira just... one handed a whole giant rock like it was made of foam.
But the general sentiment is true, at least.
My gaze turns back to Llywelyn. "Llywelyn—"
"Oh! Don't be scared!" Mira shakes her head. "Miss Doctor said that you should be okay immediately, and you are! So that means she's also right about Llywelyn. The medicine will work on him, too. She said that you were barely hurt at all, just a little concussion. But he—well, he was under a lot of heavy things for a long time. He's not meant to do that. But he'll be okay!"
She sets a green hand on my shoulder.
"Sarah. He's going to be okay. He's still in a lot of pain. But he'll be okay."
I want to believe her, but it's hard. It's hard to see him like this. So still and quiet. Not snapping at me or teasing me or arguing with me. It's... wrong. This isn't him. This isn't the Llywelyn I know. The Llywelyn I love.
My breath catches in my throat and I quickly look away from Mira. I don't want to cry. I don't really...
Have that right.
My hand shakes. I can feel her staring at me, her eyes full of sympathy and confusion.
"Sarah?" she asks, softly.
I shake my head. "It's... it's nothing. I just..."
I force a laugh. It doesn't sound good, but... it's only Mira listening. She doesn't understand pain. So. It's probably fine.
"Don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself if I'm not being insulted..."
It's a shitty joke. But it's the only thing I can think of to say. To make her smile and not... ask about things I don't know how to answer.
And she does smile. Her eyes sparkle and she giggles. "Oh, you'll have to find a new hobby then! Maybe you could learn to cook! Or dance! Or—"
She keeps going, listing all the things she thinks I could do. I pay loose enough attention to make noises when I need to. Mostly, though, I stare down at Llywelyn.
I wonder how long it will take for him to wake up. To recover. To be himself again.
I wonder if he'll still want to see me when he does.
I wonder... if he remembers what I said.
If he'll hold me to it.
If he'll make me explain.
I don't know.
I don't know anything.
I close my eyes and squeeze his hand.
I don't care.
Even if... he remembers. Even if he doesn't. Even if he hates me now because I hurt him so badly. Even if he only remembers me insulting him and saying I hate him. Even if he can't remember me at all.
I...
I just need him.
To wake up again.
"Please..." I murmur, pressing my lips to his fingers. "You have to wake up."
He doesn't respond but...
I think maybe his veins pulse. Just a little bit more brightly.