The twilite birds of canary yellow flutter about within the eighty-foot tall trees at sun break. Sől, the first of four suns upon Asgard, stretches her rays of hope well into the vast lands of Aesir. Life of creatures in wholesome varieties stir awake, ready for another day of trades, carpentry, mending, teaching, and play. The Gods always rise with Sől to respect her daily return.
Thor enters the horse barn in a simple tan leather vest and dark brown breeches. He puts on his leather riding boots and approaches Gladr's stall.
"Morning to you!", picking up a dandy brush to clean the legs. "Always a good day for a ride with my friend."

For someone who could heal themselves, Jules was in a world of hurt: a crushed skull, swelling of the brain, blood bleeding out of her left ear, too many ribs broken and fractures, collapsed left lung, broken left pelvic bone, broken left fibula ... the list goes on and on. She spooked the staff in the ER as she unexpectedly awoke in a blood-curling scream of pain just shortly after a dose of epinephrine was administered. Her natural healing overrode her desire to die and the drug got her to nearly leave the bed. Thereafter, Jules' wrists and ankles were strapped down, despite the pentobarbital knocking her out cold. She recalled none of it. A blessing, no doubt.
As the barbital nursed through her veins, the Neurosugeons removed the handful of broken skull pieces from the upper rear of the head and replaced it with a four by three inch titanium plate. The next major surgery was to repair her left collapsed lung, pin the left pelvic bone, reset the badly dislocated left shoulder, pin and cast the broken bones of the arms and legs, and pump her full of drugs to keep the body from rejecting the metal and pins to hold her damaged body together. Too weak to heal on her own, she lay in ICU for six weeks in a drug-induced coma.
Six long weeks, she sat in a light gray dream with nothing to see. The only stimuli experienced was the solid ground below her, but no physical body or the ground itself embraced her vision. Devoid of sound, she suffered terribly in her phobia. Her body rocked back and forth in a tight ball, either sitting on her ass or lying on her left side. Often she hummed the calming tunes of Sigur Rós to remain sane. She asked the Gods if this was Purgatory, but received no answer.

No mention of Jules' healing skills were brought to the medical staff attention. BlackOps kept their distance to keep their hands clean and everyone whom knew of her healing ability was told to keep quiet. Despite her body showing physical signs of improvement, cognitively she remain in a persistant vegetative state. The barbituate was weaned on week seven, but her body quietly slept on. With no signs of consciousness, she lay still as if she were dead.
Her prognosis of recovery diminished month after month, for the electroencephalogram and functional MRI's continuted to show no response to stimuli. The Neurosurgeons had warned early on that Jules' prognosis of recovery was slim to none, considering the height she fell and the hard armored surface of the suburban which captured her was much like hitting concrete. By the fourth month, a court order was approved to remove her from life support. Assuming she would not survive, BlackOps carefully kept her anonymity under tight secrecy with connections within the hospital staff to remove the body as soon as she was declared dead. Cautiously, the team of nurses monitored her condition as the mechanical ventilator was removed first. Jules' body sensed a change in its environment and immediately healed itself without her consent to breathe on its own. The dialysis machine was second, which her body immediately took over kidney functions. Surprised by her strength to live, the intravenous fluids remain as well as the feeding tube until further testing determined the next course of action.
Bruce was given permission to attend the removal of the life support equipment, holding her left hand in quiet tears and replacing The Empress ring upon her ring finger. When she continued to thrive, his eyes lit up with immense hope and began to speak to her softly of the weather, his work, and current events within the city. Every day, between 3 and 4pm, he sat to the right of her bed and read from the local newspaper or shared a chapter from his book of the week. Often, he shared his opinion of each story read with criticism and dry humor. Before his daily leave, he would speak lightly into her right ear with eyes on the monitors. In the world of gray, his words never reach her.
"Jules. It's Bruce. If you can hear me, squeeze my finger."
With a lack of response, he'd remove The Empress from her ring finger and replace it upon a gold chain around his neck.
Jules' lack of improvement began to slowly eat away his confidence, bringing forth a sadness he soon couldn't manage alone. Five weeks later, his visits became sporadic and finally he stopped visiting. The continued lack of response to stimuli and test results showing no improvement in brain function was too much for him to bear. He took a leave of absence and moved to a small poor village in South Vietnam to practice family medicine. Rachel promised to keep him updated of her condition, which she did with the same daily text: "She sleeps quietly today." On occasions, Bruce responded back with a simple "Thank you", but generally he kept quiet.
Tony is no church-going man, but he does fear God. He also has a personal issue with suicide. For the first few months, he refused to visit Jules and only began to do so out of support of his best friend. Regardless of her reasons to attempt an end to her life, he remain angry for involving Bruce and himself. He wished she had flown far away, out of their presence, to complete the task.

Heimdall kept his starry eyes upon Midgard and watched Jules daily per orders of the AllFather for a sign of her wake. He witnessed everything that tragic day, giving Thor a play by play of her unfolding doom. As the doctors struggled to stabilize her blood pressure in the ER, Thor made his leave from Himinbjorg.
"Advise me first, I pray not, of her death."
"Then you will not hear from me.", said Heimdall in a clever tone.
"You believe she will survive?", mounting his horse.
"I do.", with a nod.
Thor shared a slight smile, nods, and drove his horse back to Ida.
Thor was made aware of Jules' dire condition, three months after the incident. He stopped for a visit with Rachel, and over a hot lunch of his favorite cheeseburgers and beer, she broke the news. Jules' slow physical healing and lack of mental recoup surprised Thor. He questioned Rachel's honesty and whether BlackOps-D were holding back. Upset he didn't believe her, she took him to Northwestern Medical and paid a visit. Standing outside of the room, Rachel pointed to each medical device and explained their functionality from the viewing window. Thor was dumbfounded, questioning how one with such abilities could succumb to poor health. He believed Jules was immortal, much like himself. It would take a handful of tenacious Gods to defeat him to death. It should be no different for Jules.
Heimdall also sensed a familiar upon Midgard, one of Mischief, just prior to witnessing her fall. He caught a fleeting glimpse of Loki leaving Bruce's residence with a sudden presence within the Residence Hall which Loki resides. Upon the second sunrise, Odin enforced restrictions of magic and forcing Loki to wear The Gaul on both wrists. The very same golden metal bracelets Jules wore before and after being struck by Odin's power, now Loki bears. The dull yellow alloy, molten and infused with the ashes of giants known as The Gauls, is said to be made of stone as hard as diamonds. No amount of sorcery can be delivered while wearing the bracelets.
Thanks to The Gaul worn upon his wrists, Loki had not made another visit to Midgard since the night he stood against the bedroom wall and watched Jules nuzzle Bruce's face and get fucked passionately. With a dagger in his right hand, he was slowly making his approach to kill Bruce with a hard blow upon his back. A pierce through his mortal heart, it would've eliminated any desires for Jules to remain on Midgard. With a bit of persuasion of the AllFather, Jules would've been brought to Asgard and there he could finish his next task: return the stone to the rightful owner. Over a slice of bread and fresh butter, he snacked in heavy thought. Thor's news of Jules' medical condition made no sense to him. He witnessed her powers, felt it sway and entwine within his own body as she saved his life in the ruins of her greenhouse.
"She should not be lying in stupor. If she were here, the Bed would do her good!", he seethes.
The Healing Elders of Asgard proudly maintain several Healing Beds and a gorgeous healing tank for the Gods of Aesir. The AllFather would never allow a Midgardian mortal to lie within either without his permission. Never. Loki lets out a sigh, picks up his mechanical lead pencil, and returns to his sketches of blades to be fabricated within the Foundry.
Thor eventually made it known to Loki of Jules' deteriorating condition, a month after he spoke to Rachel. The first moment Loki had privacy in his residence, he raged. He threw his reading chair across the room, ripped the curtains down around the windows, and bellowed in a frenzied pace. He was terribly angry with himself. He believed had he taken the moment to stab Bruce through the heart, Jules would be on Asgard instead of the barbarian medical facility. His house arrest only complicated matters, yet his unyielding drive to obtain the stone and return it to Jules kept the fire of desire to succeed. With hands clasped behind his back, he paced the living room under heavy breath. His age old mind of several reincarnations and a current run of eight hundred and twenty years raced with broken thoughts of devilry. His feet finally stopped when he realized the coma was the perfect vehicle to restore what belonged to her. First, he needed the house arrest to end in order to have the bracelets removed. Then, he needed to persuade Thor in making a long overdue visit to Odin's beloved room of Tolken. In their teens, the boys would often visit the room together and mull over the items with their eyes. They'd discuss what they'd do with each relic, whom they'd overpower, and what realm they would conquer.
"Such good days. I do miss them. So, how about it, Brother?", Loki says alone.
It's been a good while since they made a visit together. The delicious plan instilled a fervor to rummage through book after book of spells within his private library. The book of Nissedúr caught his eyes, studied it profusely, and jotted down a few notes.
"A visit to the Valley of Landvættir, it is!", he said in a smile with too much teeth.
Landvættir is within Aesir, so The Gaul didn't hold him back. On horseback, a half days drive thru a path only wide enough for two horses and surrounded in heavy thicket, he enters a quaint miniature village. The valley is filled with nature spirits of great variety and his mind is set on just one.
"Good day, my lady.", he says to a passing gnome. "Good day, sir.", readjusting the sack of flour resting on her right shoulder.
"I am here to visit an old friend. His name is Nissedúr. Could you point in the direction of his abode?"
"Why, his home is straight away. About a half a click? Look for a brown home with red roses out front."
"Thank you, my lady.", nods, and presses forward.
Nissedúr is taken by surprise to see Loki at his front door. The last he saw Loki was well over a thousand years when he asked for a spell to reciprocate the bark of the ash tree, Yggdrasil.
"I though you dead, Loki! Please! Come inside!"
"Thank you, my friend.", crouching low for the ceiling is only six feet high. "I brought some of your favorites."
Loki opens a twenty pound bag full of brazen spheres and the old man lets out a squeal.
"Whatever you have in mind, good sir, I am delighted to be of service!"
Loki returned to his residence that eve, just as the moon rose over the city. The gift he received in return of the brazen spheres and good company, he carefully hid in his dresser. Wrapped in blue silk and tucked in a blue velvet bag lined in white fur, he laid layers after layers of shirts above it.

Month after month, Rachel continued to share the same update with Bruce, even though there was nothing to dole out. One day, he called Rachel back for a detailed update. He questioned the extent to which the staff is offering to help Jules' recovery. Rachel couldn't offer much, for she wasn't there everyday and any medical information was held private. He hungered to read her chart and flip thru the history of cognitive functioning tests. The phone call was disturbing. He angered for leaving her in the hands of modern medicine. Five days later, he made a trip home.
'Her physical body is sound, brain has proper blood flow, but she's still comatose? Something doesn't add up.'

Loki asked for a meeting with his father regarding his house arrest and Odin agreed to his attendance.
"Father. I ask you look upon me with trust. Hope. Faith, for I will not stray from trouble. I ask that Thor be my mentor and be by my waking side."
Odin brushed his beard with no emotion or words.
"These metal rings are burdensome in the Foundry. My precision with the pencil has weakened, bringing inaccuracies in my work. Please reconsider your punishement?"
Despite Loki's recent mischiefs, the AllFather granted his request. The bracelets were removed with a meeting for both Loki and Thor to be present.
"Thor. Loki. Both are to bestow time collectively. Neither of you to loose each other's sight unless busy at work.", says Odin with his chin up.
Thor wasn't keen to his father's wishes, having to babysit his brother is how he understood it. Loki, on the other hand, got more than he had bargained for! Not only did he regain his freedom but also a ticket back to Midgard without having to sneak his way. Literally, he killed two birds with one stone. That afternoon on Asgard, Loki approached Thor with the idea of hitting Odin's trophy room. With his head tilted to the side and chin down, he nudges his brother's arm for attention.
"Come, Brother! For old times sake!"
"Yes. It has been a while!", laughing away.
Like teenagers, they both smile to each other and head to The Room of Tolken. Loki double checks the presence of the blue velvet bag in his right pant pocket, bringing a smirk upon his thin lips.

The Room of Tolken glistened under the first sun and rise of the second. Made of the strongest of stone and laden in a sheet of gold, the ornate building consisted of four rooms. The first room hosted paintings, manuscripts, and drawings. The second room held stones and a variety of jewels. The third room held the Holy Grail and various mystical swords and armor. The fourth room was a steel chamber, housing the largest of relics. Thor loved the third room, for obvious reasons, and spent most of his time there. Loki was always interested in the manuscripts which spoke of spells and enchantments, but today his eyes were fixed on the pendant. As Thor entered the third room, Loki quickly made his move. He lifted Jules' pendant from the red velvet display and pushed with his might to dislodge the stone. From the blue velvet bag, he removed the fake stone, a mere perfect replica, and replaced it with a bit of magic to hold it in place. The original stone he put into the blue velvet bag and back into his right pocket. In glorious pride, he stood staring at Nissedúr's creation within Jules' pendant. Thor was still in the third room, inspecting his favorite swords, when Loki joined him. They began to recite stories told to them as children of the glorious battles fought and treasures gained. As they left Odin's treasures, Loki questioned Jules' condition.
"She sleeps like the still winds of the night.", Thor says solemly.
"We should make a visit. As representatives of Asgard, wishing her and her friends well.", saying so with both hands upon his heart.
Thor looks at Loki with a questionable grin.
"You? A representative of Asgard? You are pulling on my leg!"
"You are right. You make an ideal advocate. I will be your witness.", he ends in a tight-lipped smile, for within the sarcasm is thick.
Thor didn't have to think about it. He would have Rachel once more, and that was a good enough reason to visit Midgard. They took to their horses and rode forth to Himinbjorg. Heimdall wasn't the least amused to see Loki, yet he knew of the King's order for both Thor and Loki to be in each other's company. Heimdall laid heavy eyes upon Loki, just before he followed Thor into the light, which Loki returned with a gentle smile and a wink.

All these months, Jules' mind lay quiet in a gray haze with only the touch of her body and the smooth ground to greet her. She often pinched, squeezed, or scratched her skin just enough to feel pain, to verify her existence, yet death embraced her quietly with no one to take her. When Bruce stopped his visits, the haze began to slowly shift into colors and form. An exotic land of red poppies with a rocky edge leading to the Universe surrounded her. Before she could even take in the beauty, seven foot tall men, all laden in battle armor and broadswords, chased her thru the field of red. Her blood boiled from the heat of the chase and her tears raced across her cheeks. The Men In Black she never feared, but these men were new to her. She screamed forth in dismay and hollered vile at the menace, breaking the four foot tall stems and spilling forth petals of crimson around her. When she reached the edge of nowhere, she stopped, cowered, and sheltered her head with her forearms. The swords came down upon her and the nightmare would end with her standing in the field of poppies once more. Over and over, she ran from the men screaming, sweating, and cursing. The dream, stuck on repeat, continued daily until Bruce returned to see her. His warm touch upon her cold right hand and a gentle squeeze of her fingers to advise of his presence ended her terrorizing visions but returned her into a gray empty void of deathly silence.
With her health in stable condition, BlackOps-D made their move to take over responsibility. Fistful of paperwork passed under the table with covered eyes and turned backs. Ticker tape of red were silently cut in the early morning hours of Sunday, when staff at the hospital was at a minimum. With no questions asked, BlackOps paid Northwestern Medical the full bill for Jules' stay and transported her to a medical wing at B.O.D.. A few days prior to her arrival, a temporary construction of housing arrangements on site were completed. Just thirty feet shy from The Glass House, the room reciprocated medical technology with added neuro equipment to monitor her brain function 24/7. BlackOps wanted to be on the safe side, overdoing unmanned medical devices attached to her body. Even the mattress had a movement sensor.
Under tight observation, she lay on a comfortable bed with white sheets and a light white blanket covering her. With Bruce's contribution to medical science at BlackOps, he was given clearance to visit Jules. Because a large part of medical sensory equipment inside of The Glass House is his work, he was contracted as the Consulting Medical Officer upon her inauguration to Moose's observation chamber. Knowing who would be first to test the room, guilt held Bruce in a tight grip as he developed the specialized bed. But the guilt was traded with thankfulness upon assignment to monitor her condition full-time. When he wasn't with her, he was at home in his fourth floor workshop. A full-sized white, down-filled comforter lay undone with yards of thin white wiring neatly secured to a thin cotton sheet. Lying between a layer of down feathers to keep discreet from the user, he finishes his work by hand sewing it shut. This followed with a test of his work, sleeping with the white comforter for three weeks straight. His vitals transmitted to his laptop, keeping accurate minute by minute transmissions of his body temperature, heart rate, oxygen level, and hydration via water evaporation from loss of body heat. Sleeping with only his boxers, he unknowingly wove his scent with the cotton fibers for Jules to embrace later. The comforter wasn't part of the project but a last minute creation and sold to Moose approvingly as a backup.
He made daily visits and often, up to three times a day, for he feared he'd miss an opportunity to say his last goodbyes before her death or have his last moment of embrace stolen to find her locked in Moose's pride and joy. He moved away from science to poetry and read to Jules at each visit. Meditation music played softly with his confident voice melded into one. He spoke of everything: his day at work, what he watched on the DVR, what he had for lunch at work, etc. Each visit ended with the slip of The Empress upon her ring finger along with a hold of her left hand with a simple request to squeeze his. She never would. The neuro monitor continued to display the slow alpha waves in gentle green hills and valleys. Yet in a field of red she ran in fear, for the sword slashers returned once more.

A very large viewing window separates her physical world to the observation hallway. Zero stimulation is allowed when visits were made, unless approved in advance, and only one visitor is allowed inside the room. BlackOps is playing it extremely safe. Several people sit in the hallway upon a beige couch after work to meet with Bruce for an update. Bruce wraps up his visit by resecuring the ring on his gold chain, followed with a last squeeze of her fingers. He bends over her forehead and lays a pressing kiss, followed by the words she often craved.
"I love you."
Butterflies always fluttered in his heart, when he shared those words over her restful face. He's hopeful she can hear him, but with a last glance of the neuro monitor, the slow green waves never budge.
Bingo stands up in disbelief, when he eyes Loki with Thor and Rachel.
"What is HE doing here?", rising from the couch in disbelief.
"It's okay, my friend.", responds Thor.
"NO, it's NOT okay! Why in the hell is he here!?"
"Thor is acting as his escort and mentor.", responds Rachel.
"We must be together, where ever. Father's rules.", says Thor.
"Your Father's RULES don't APPLY on Earth! So take your damn ...".
Rachel moves Bingo back away from both Thor and Loki and asks him to settle down in light whispers. Loki keeps a serious composure, yet struggles to do so. Watching Bingo break down over his presence was just too much fun!
Hearing the commotion outside the room but out of view from the window, Bruce heads to the door. As he walks out the room, he spots Thor and then makes a mad bolt to Loki with fists ready to swing. Thor steps inbetween and stops Bruce in time.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!", Bruce hollers.
"We are only here on diplomacy. We are not here to make any trouble."
"Diplomacy? What?! What ...you, you are kidding, right? This some kind of SICK JOKE?!"
"I'm with you on that note.", gripes Bingo.
"Please! Please! Stop it! Yes, they are here to say their respects and then they'll leave.", pleads Rachel.
"You say it like she's dead.", snaps Bruce, sending a cold look to Rachel's eyes.
Loki keeps his mouth shut and allows his brother to do the talking. Besides, he was more focused on how he was going to get into her room. Alone.
"I don't want that Asshole anywhere NEAR her. No way!", scolds Bruce with his right index finger pointing at Loki.
Rachel approaches Bruce to reassure him everything will be alright and the Asgardians were not here to cause any trouble. That's when Loki makes his move.
"Has there been any improvement in her condition?"
"Nobody answer that!", Bruce yells.
"Ah ...no. No, there hasn't.", says Rachel followed with Bruce shooting her the evil eye.
"Have you tried stimulating her with sounds, smells, touch, or movement?"
"YES. EVERYDAY.", growls Bruce.
"I know this may not approve, but if Thor and I pay a small visit, it may ...".
"FAT CHANCE! No way in HELL will I allow it!"
"Bruce, it's not up to you. And we don't know if it will or will not help. If anything, it can't hurt.", Rachel says softly with a hand upon his right forearm.
"I agree with Bruce. I don't like the idea, especially Loki being in her presence.", says Bingo.
"I trust he won't cause any trouble. Am I right, Loki?", Rachel says with a naïve smile.
"Yes, indeed. I will just sit in that chair, there, hands to myself.", pointing to the chair close to the window.
"And I will keep a close eye on my brother.", says Thor.

Thor enters first and stands tall to her right side of the bed as she continues to run away from unfriendly men. Thor speaks, but she hears nothing but the same men grunting and yelling at her to stop. He only spends a few minutes with her, sharing neutral words of his wishes for her recovery. Frankly, he cares little for her due to the past threats to kill his people. Her radical behavior from rescue to kill never made logical sense, but refused to question it for the God is a matter of fact thinker. It is what it is. As he makes his exit, Loki approaches the door.
"Keep in that chair with hands away. Understood?", says Thor with a serious stare.
Loki nods in a smile. Just as he is to enter, Bruce quickly gets up to his face.
"You touch her? I kill you."
Sharing a goofy startled smile, Loki is taken back by Bruce's personal and emotional attachment. He immediately realizes the Midgardian holds his heart strong for Jules. He holds back his response and laughter ensues within, as he enters the room.
'Ridiculous! A mortal has fallen with a likely Demi-God? Oh, this is too much!'
The door is to be shut at all times, and no exception is made with Loki inside. He takes a second to scan all of the equipment lying about and slowly approaches where Thor stood. He looks at her pale face, screaming of innocence, and dutifully examines her chest. He sights an opportunity. Due to the wiring leading to her heart and upper chest, the gown is fully open above her breastbone.
In his youth, he lacked the dexterity to fight like his brother Thor. Yet his thin frame was quick to move and Odin placed him to train with Ófeigr, the Blade Master. As an Engineer, his wrists move with accuracy in his drawings. As a master of the short blade, he can filet a body in precision incapable by Man. He also spent a lot of time in the Library, with his able Mother and other Sorcerers, to study magic. Those days have paid off and today will be a fine example of such.
He takes a seat in the chair to the right of the bed. With his back facing the window, he conjures the spell to stop time inside the room. On the other side of the glass, it appears that Loki is sitting in the chair and observes her quietly as promised. He choose to sit, instead of stand, for it appears less threatening. Immediately he rises, observes the four looking into the room to verify no one can see him standing. With time against him, he moves swiftly, drawing his jeweled dagger made just for the occasion. He places the tip of the blade center of her chest, where the pendant would almost lie but slightly higher. He pushes the tip of the blade in three inches deep and cuts an 'X' mark. With another spell, he cease the blood from leaving her. Carefully, he unwrap the blue stone from the silk and pushes it within the center of the mark with force. He twists the stone hard to set it deep in place, then returns the knife to his right hand to cut open his left palm directly over the stone and let his blood drip into the wound to soak it. A grimace leaves him, as he pumps his hand several times to get the blood to fill the cavity. Quickly, he returns the knife back into his coat pocket, picks up her right hand, rests it over the wound and stone, and leans into her right ear to say "Heal!". Her hand does just that. Within five seconds, the cut is gone, as well as the cut in his left palm. A quick readjustment of her arm and hand is made, a spell to remove any residual blood on their bodies, and he sits back down. The spell ends to stop time and Loki's overbearing smile overpowers the stale and quiet atmosphere.
"The stone seeked you with purpose, Jules Harper. Now we shall see what purpose it holds for us."
Loki knew he spent too much time for Bruce to bear, and he was right. Bruce enters the room with gusto and untrusting eyes. His tension, alone, was taught enough to snap One's bones with a proper slap. Yet, he finds Loki siting in the chair with hands resting on his lap as promised. Loki stands up, straightens his coat, and walks past Bruce with a polite smile. Bruce immediately inspects her body position, the wiring, and medical equipment. Nothing is amiss. Feeling as if someone had punched him in the chest from the stress, he sits down in the same chair and looks her over once more.
Thor and Loki thanked Rachel and Bingo for allowing the visit and wished Jules a speedy recovery. In the transporter room, Thor and Rachel share a long hug and quick kiss. Loki turns away, rolls his eyes, and walks into the swirling gray matter without his brother. The thought of an immortal God and mortal Human "in love" disgusted him. It was wrong.
Heimdall may be all-seeing and knowing, but he couldn't oversee Loki's magic. Heimdall knows this is his weakness and often it made him angry. Especially, when Loki returned from Midgard with a smile. Loki so wished to be a fly on the wall to watch Jules' transformation. He struggled with his strong desires to leave Asgard alone with magic, so he could witness her rebirth. It was a difficult decision, but he had to remain trustworthy. He needed this "you can trust me" partnership with Thor to last a little bit longer.

As Bruce remain in the chair, verbally cursing out Loki's visit to Jules, the beast within agreed by flexing his chest muscles to bring on discomfort. Gripping the front of his shirt with his left hand, he feels The Empress under the fingertips and his eyes water. His soft heart orders him to remove the ring, slips it upon her ring finger, and sits back down with an audible sigh.
"I promise to protect you, but I need to apologize in advance should I fail. These Gods? I can't keep them from you. It drives me nuts! I just don't get it! They never visit me, and I've got abilities beyond anyone's imagination. Why you?"
In her dream, the broadswords vanish, followed by the tall men, and she soon stands alone in the field of poppies.
"Too quiet.", she says in a whisper.
The field of crimson fades, swallowed whole by the Universe around her. Deep breathing, not her own, fills her ears. Suddenly, it looked like someone had spilled twenty different paint cans into her dream. The colors begin to bleed into each other, swirl around her body, and soon it takes shape to form the grass, the sky, and then her body. The scenery changes morphs to an island in multicolored stance and with sound. On a hilltop overlooking a ledge with houses below, majestic snow-covered mountains litter the background with the sound of the ocean battering the rocky shoreline. The view is terrific and a thankful change of events, but she is more interested to why the crazed men stopped chasing her. Why didn't they touch her at the edge of oblivion, as she cowered in fear? What has become of Purgatory? As she sits among the tall reed grass, she strokes the color changing blades with fingers and recognizes the abrasive and sticky flesh. The sensations in her hand, the visions of life surrounding her, and the cries of the cold Pacific waters brings her to feel alive. She laid flat on her back, spread out her arms and legs, and absorbs the gift presented to her.
"I think I finally made it to Heaven."

"Maybe my presence isn't helping. You wanted to leave me. You wanted to die.", sniffling through his somber words. "I know you don't believe in miracles. But your body? It's strong, Jules. It fights to live! I just ...I wished your mind would fight with. But then again, you shouldn't even be alive. Maybe God decided to punish your decision and let half of you live."
He rubs her fingers with tears he'd rather not express. Her cool skin feels deathly and only breaks him down further. Hopes and wishes bring his eyes to glance at the neuro monitor. Holding his breath, his heart feels as to flop outside of his chest as he watches the green sine waves erratically move across the monitor. Fast up on his feet, he looks closely at her face. A twitch under her eyelids drops his lower jaw and forgetting to breathe he gasps out loud for air. A hard squeeze is delivered to her cool right fingers and the peaks of each wave on the monitor rises high.
"My God!"
Bruce takes a closer look at her pale face and studies the minute twitches around her eyes. A shrill of excitement runs down his spine, as he selfishly savours the knowledge of her pending wake from the world. He gently tucks his right hand behind her left face and ear, stroking his thumb lightly across the cheekbone to express his glee. His eyes are fixed to the monitor, as he speaks softly into her right ear.
"Jules? Can you hear me?"
In her dream world, a male voice fades in and out above, bringing an end to her playful mood. With her eyebrows low, she squints at the sky above.
"God?", she asks.
The neuro monitor registers her inquiry with tight peaks in the slow-moving green lines. He tucks his left fingers inside her right hand.
"Jules. Squeeze my hand if you can hear my voice."
She heard the request and examines her right hand to find it empty. She makes a fist, opens it, and makes another fist. Her curiosity brings her to sit up, examine her surroundings, and eye the sky once more.
"God? Are you taking me now?", holding up her hand in the air in a fist. "I'm ready to go."
"Jesus!", Bruce says aloud in shock and turns to look at the closed door.
"Jesus? For real?! But I'm not Christian.", she responds, lowering her hand in confusion.
"I think she's waking up!", he yells to gather someone's attention.
She scrambles to her feet, slightly cowers low with hands out to her side along the waist in a defensive posture, and circles a number of times to find the source of the voice. Anxiety fills her chest and lays heavy over her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Her belief she suffered in Purgatory is no more. Her entry into Heaven is cancelled.
"What's going ON here?!", she whispers with a tremble in her voice.
Rachel and Bingo break the rules and enter the room.
"She's dreaming!", says Rachel.
"That's GREAT! Her brain activity has picked up. I'll get the Doc.", says Bingo, excitedly.
"Wait!", both Bruce and Rachel yell.
"Hold on a minute. Let's just ah ...let's give her a moment of peace ...", Bruce says with a hard swallow. "...before her world turns upside down."
All three stand bedside, watching the minute twitches of her eyelids. Tired of the silence, Jules returned to lay on her back upon the reed grass and moves her arms and legs as to making a snow angel minus the snow. Her giggles comes thru in a grimace or a smile. The movement of her arms comes through with twitches of both hands. Bruce somberly picks up the right hand, kisses it, and holds it close to his heart.
"Bingo? Would you mind letting the staff know?", says Bruce, as he continues to hold her and watch her face.
"Not at all."
As she continues to make grass angels, the sky begins to morph into a natural hue. White, wispy clouds take formation. A breeze picks up and passes over her body, carrying the random odors of the salty ocean. Sea gulls chatter at a distance. A quick rise to sit up brings life to her eyes. Everything around her appears in a natural state. She is no longer smiling. She's in awe.
"Wow."
Her mouth is trying to move with the words she spoke in her dream, yet unsuccessfully, due to the lame jaw muscles. The medical team arrives, pushing the three out of the room. Her chart is noted, checked, and a pen scribbles away. Wires are double checked to each medical device. The action is played out behind the big window with Bruce watching meticulously. After ten minutes of inspection, the wires are removed from her chest and head. The catheter and feeding tube is removed. The bed is propped up slightly at an angle with the IV line remaining. Bruce observes a Nurse inject a solution into the line. Her noticable twitches of her fingers end and her grimace turns into a frown. The Lead Doc exits the room with findings to share.
"She's waking up, alright!", says the Doctor with a stance of pride. "She's an amazing specimen. If Human, she made medical history for recovery from diffuse axonal injury. We'll know more of the extent of her impairment, once she comes around."
"What did you give her?", Bruce inquires of the sedative.
"Lorazepam. Just a preventative for her transfer. Speaking of."
Four men in blue jumpsuits arrive to transfer Jules to The Glass House. As the bed passes by, he takes a hard glance at her pale and slightly gaunt face. As the bed arrives to her new home, the security leader within the control room activates the door and a large glass panel to the far right unhinges. The IV is removed, her body cleansed by two female Nurses with wipes, redressed in a white tank and shorts, and then carried into the room by a single strong man. He lays her down, a Nurse covers her with Bruce's blanket, a final inspection of the floor is made for foreign objects, and the door's sealed. Bruce takes his chair behind an array of monitors linking to both the bed and the blanket. Verbally, he dictates her status for Moose to hear.
"Thank you, Dr. Banner. Mr. Hunter?"
Jim Hunter, a twenty-seven year old former Marine of the 3rd Battalion 3rd Marines, monitors the security sensors at his station. Armed with a semiautomatic pistol and tazer, he is also authorized to guard from harm.
"System's in the green, Sir."
"Mr. Dorn?"
Frank Dorn, a twenty-five year old Milwaukee School of Engineering graduate, makes a few clicks of his mouse. He's responsible for both the environmental systems and IT.
"Environmental controls at 100% and the temperature is 78 degrees, Mr. Wavell."
Moose walks up to the viewing glass, folds his arms across his chest, and lets out a noticeable breath. What should have transpired seven months ago has finally come to fruition and he couldn't be more fucking pleased. Despite having his observation room ready for any "unknown's" use, he kept it on hold as Jules lay in dire straights and took advantage of the extra time for fine tuning. He wanted her to christen his personal creation. He lowers the condition from "Alpha", or "imminent danger", to "Charley" for the duration of her stay within the confines of curious eyes and technology so advanced, the boys of The Amateur Robotics Club would shit bricks.