Cold Reality

For nearly six months now I have seen death, I have smelt fear, heard weeping and groaning, and consumed little else aside from water, coffee, and small simple meals.

Am I on the battlefield, fighting alongside my teammates and our allies in our desperate struggle against the war the Skeleton King has brought against us?

No.

I am a scientist, but also a physician, and therefore when to numbers of the injured began to overwhelm the medical staff of the hospitals; Chiro was forced to station me there with them, in a futile effort to lower the numbers of our dead. The Skeleton Kings army had cut off all of the city's outside resources. Supplies were few, and people were many. Things that were once a commodity, such as food, water; medical supplies and electricity were now a treasured rarity. Nearly everything was broken: lights, equipment, windows, and plumbing. There was a time when I would have refused to work in such conditions, but there was no choice now, we had to get by with whatever we could, until the others could raid more supplies from the enemy-controlled areas within the city. The only thing lower than the number of working medical equipment that I have available to me is the number of medical staff. There are only fifty of us, myself included, against the flood of hundreds the enemy sends to us daily.

The Skeleton King's army has no need for doctors. His soldiers are never tired, never hungry, and never injured or sick. If one dies, its death is meaningless, because ten thousand more will take the place of the one that fell. Its passing will not be mourned, because it was not self-aware, therefore it was not alive. It simply failed in its duty to destroy us, nothing more.

There was once a time when I could look at a patient and see a living being in front of me, one who was sick or hurt and wondering about what was happening to his comrades or family, and I could sympathize, but now it is all a dully gray, blur of names and numbers, both devoid of any meaning whatsoever, simply another arm to be splinted, another lib to be amputated, or another wound to be stitched shut. The war has made me cold.

I examine the body of a young female human, brown hair, brown eyes.

"Cause of death?" I ask, not because I care, simply because it needs to be recorded.

'Electric shock." The medic answers. I knew his name once, but I no longer remember it. I doubt I would recognize him in a crowd. "Found this in her hand." He says, handing me an object. It is a holographic ice cream cone, and I throw the object away. It means little to me.

Time and noise and patients burred together as I lost all sense of time. Stitch this wound closed, put this one's arm in a cast, prescribe painkillers to that one there, refill this one's prescription. Supa passes by me, back from the battlefield, with another patient on a stretcher. He gives me a shakily smile, and he is covered in grime, ooze, and blood. I smile back, knowing that I must look equally horrifying, my jet-black eyes a dull gray, my normally bright coat pale and thin, for I have been losing my fur for a while now, the cybernetic portions of my body cracked and rusted. There is a defibrillator that needs repairing, and we begin to work on it.

"Garf, Gibson this thing's completely destroyed." He says grimly.

"It's our only one, we need to get it working." I tell him. Eventually though, the technicians arrive, and we turn it over to them. Supa is called off to other duties, and I begin to move toward the next patient when someone grabs my hand as I pass by one of the beds. The grip is weak, and I turn towards its owner.

"How's it goin' Brain Strain? You look like something from a bad horror movie."

Sparx holds one hand over the right side of his face, and blood streams down his hand from between his fingers. His fur is matted and dirty, and covered in blood, and dark substance that looks like oil. "You look like you've been better, Sparky." I tell him. I try to manage a smile, but I fear it looked more like a grimace. " I only wish I didn't have to see you here."

"Don't have much of a choice." He shrugs. "Just hope they didn't get Antauri, he's worse than both of us put together."

"This is from him?" I ask, indicating the dark substance.

"Yea, I hauled him outta that mess as quick as I could, he was losin' oil, those freaks had torn him apart-"

"Where is he now?' I interrupted him, prying his hand from his face.

"He was going to find Chiro. I told him he was crazy, that he'd never find the kid when he's all torn up like that, but he didn't listen, you know how he is when it come to the kid."

I nodded. "What about the other's?" I ask as I begin to clean his face of dirt, blood, oil, and the shards of glass and metal that has once been his optical enhancement system.

"I don't know where Jinmay and Nova are." He said.

" Otto?" I ask, hesitantly.

"KIA."

I tried to think about what I was doing with Sparx's injury then, so no one would see me cry. Now was not the time to mourn." I can save your eye," I told him, but it'll be weak, if you get any vision out of it at all."

"So, I'm done piloting?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"I'm sorry, my friend." I could tell that he knew I meant it.

"Hey, maybe I could get one of those cool eye patches." He says, " Yea, I'll be a pirate monkey, I'll just have to pilot a different kind of ship." He tells me, and I snort at the thought of him as a pirate. He's grinning, and I find that I am too. "You look like a deranged maniac." He tells, me and that does it, and we both start laughing.

"Please, Sparx," I say struggling to control my mirth, "You a pirate?" He nodded, still laughing." And who would you're first mate be?" I ask.

"You!" he says, and I snort at the thought. "Aw, come on, you've got seafaring experience remember?" he pleads.

"After the war." I tell him, and he nods.

"GIBSON!"

Antauri's normally calm baritone voice bellowed my name with a force and intensity that I had never heard from him before. He burst into the room, oil streaming from the tears in his silver armor, wires exposed to the elements, one optic lens and half of his face torn away, revealing the metal skeleton beneath, as he dragged Chiro's semiconscious body behind him. His legs buckled, and he screamed as the weight of both his own body and Chiro fell upon his legs. There was a sickening crack, and dark oil erupted from both the front and side of his knees, as his legs finally gave out completely. Sparx and I both rushed to him, Sparx stumbling along, half-blind, as Antauri still attempted to drag Chiro, and his own broken, torn body towards us. Nova and Jinmay came tearing in after him, Nova helped Sparx and I get Chiro on one of the few working stretchers, Jinmay grabbed Antauri in her arms and followed us.

"Supa! I need everything we have, any working bioscanners, everything now!" I shouted, and instantly, the place was all movement as medics and other doctors swarmed around me.

"He's lost too much blood!" The medic began reporting from the bioscanner's results.

"Broken rib's punctured his right lung!"

"Heart's failing!"

"Where on Shuggazoom is that bloody defibrillator!" I scream.

"We're not finished!" Exclaims a mechanic. He tries to take Antauri with him for repairs and screams in terror as the silver monkey swipes at his face with his claws.

"Antauri!" Jinmay screams, and tries to grab hold of him.

"Leave me alone!" He snarls, a feral, savage look on his face, and Jinmay gasps and backs away, hitting a nearby bed.

"I got it!" Sparx shouts, activating his magnets.

"Are you crazy!" Nova yells.

'It's our only hope, we don't have another way to revive him!" I tell her.

"You'll kill him!" Jinmay protests.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing!" Sparx and I shout in unison.

"Do it, Sparx!" Antauri demands.

"Antauri!" Nova screams angrily.

"That's an order!" the second in command roars, using his powers of levitation to throw himself upon the stretcher, tearing Chiro's still intact shirt open, his face still holding that same wild, savage look, a look made more terrifying by the damage to his face. For a moment, I had the bizarre, traitorous thought that he might rip the boy's failing heart from his chest.

Sparx took a moment to adjust his magnets, and then pressed them against Chiro's chest as Antauri moved aside. Our young leader's body buckled as electricity surged through him then fell flat against the stretcher.

The ECG droned on.

'Ready." Said Sparx.

"Clear." I said, my voice shaky. Sparx looked at me, ready to try again. I nodded. "Clear."

The flat line tone of the ECG seemed to drown out everything around me and then, there was a beep, followed by another, and steadily, his heart began to beat properly again. We breathed a sigh of relief, and Antauri sank to the floor, his sterling body trembling. I had wanted to stay with Chiro, but other patients were clamoring for my attention, and the team insisted that I go.

"Chiro's looking ok, I think he's going to make it," one of the other doctors came and told me later. "The boy's far from being out of the woods, but he woke up, drank some water, and fell asleep."

" Thank goodness," I said, wiping sweat from my brow with my tail. " Keep me informed." I told him.

"Will do." He answered.

Hours, ticked, on and Supa tried to convince me to take a break, but I have never been one to sit around when there is work to be done.

"Gibson." I turned at the sound of Antauri's voice. His legs and some of his body had been repaired, but his face was still damaged. His expression was difficult to read, because of the damage, but I feared the worst.

"Chiro!" I rushed toward the bed where he had been put, but Antauri held up a hand, and stopped me.

"He passed away in his sleep, my friend." Antauri said, and there was a deep sorrow in his one good eye. In that moment, I truly hated the war, for what it had done to all of us. I turned away to hide my tears.

"I wish I could still cry." Antauri said, his voice an odd mixture of wistfulness and sorrow.

I turned towards him then allowing him to see the river streaming down my face. "I believe I have enough tears for the both of us, Antauri."