-Thrax-

There weren't any machines hooked up to me to say that my heart had stopped, or that it picked up too fast when I finally opened my eyes against the white light above me. I wasn't focused on my breathing, and thought that I was light-headed because of the blast. That had to explain it, cranial damage making me hallucinate. Because this wasn't happening. This couldn't happen. I lay frozen in that bed, looking at the ceiling I knew too well.

Fingertips brushed across my forehead and someone leaned over, having been against the wall near the headboard, and I took in a forced breath. Because I knew these fingers, and if they could touch me, that meant they were tangible.

"Well? Not even a 'where you been'?" The voice asked above me. It was no different, if not for a small undertone that made her voice a bit quiet, made the words not as sharp as they should have been. It was soft and quiet, and finally, finally, though I felt like my entire damn body was made of lead and my arm still ached, I turned my head into the hand tracing my cheek.

It was like seeing something that was too real to look at. Because I'd seen the smoke and the empty container, read the slip of paper that was the last thing she said to me, and it was the only thing that I was sure of: She had died. She had died and I'd spent the last three and a half years trying to get through the daily reminders, three and a half years pushing down a few days of my past. Three and a half years. It should have been a hallucination. But her fingers and her sad smile, it wasn't anything my mind could make up. My chest siezed a bit and something heavy fell into my gut, and just as she opened her mouth to say more, I interrupted her with her own name.

"Iris."

-Iris-

The very first time I saw him, I wasn't afraid. I always wondered why that was.

"Hey, so you do remember me." I breathed out, half-smiling and half-laughing, feeling just a tad bit too overwhelmed. Because I'd prepared myself for this moment, for three and a half years I'd readied myself to finally see him again. I thought of what I'd say, all the things I could tell him. Except then there was always the possibility that I'd never see him again. It loomed over me, year after year, that it could have been the last I'd ever see of him.

So right now, I had no idea of what to do. I only knew that as disbelieving as he was right now, it was worse for me. I'd seen the explosion, I'd taken him here with great effort, and I'd stood by him for the past three hours. I'd had pleanty of time to relax into the idea that he was here again.

Except I still, three and a half years later, wasn't used to the idea that I was alive.

So I stood there looking at him, chest exploding and laughing off nerves until we were both silent. And then he was pushing himself up, and I was reaching a hand forward to stop him because the doctor had said how bad his shoulder was bruised, but a familiar hand wrapped around my wrist and stopped me. He slid to sit sideways, grey turtle neck moving with his deep breathing, eyes narrowed and mouth slightly ajar, brow pulled together. For a moment, a terrible moment, I thought he was angry with me.

"Thrax?" I asked, in the silence of the hospital in the late night hours, just before traffic rushes that would bring in all sorts of blood cells and germs. He reached his other hand up, pushing back my hair that was the same length it had always been, except now it was pulled back into the sloppiest bun possible. He smoothed stray hairs from my face and kept his hand on the side of my head, looking at me with such an intense look, those familiar yellow eyes, that I worried for a moment.

It had been twenty-four hours that we'd given into whatever connection we decided we had. We'd never said it out loud, and more than once I wondered if it hadn't just been a fleeting thing that stuck with us. I wondered that now, a sinking feeling in my chest as he sat still, looking at me as if trying to figure out if I were real or not. It was a terrible thirty seconds.

And then the hand on my wrist tightened and he lunged forward too fast for me to move, the hand in my hair gripping and lacing through the back. He stood and, without warning and stumbling forward so fast that I would have fallen backwards had the clawed hand not gripped my shoulder so tightly, brought our lips together. It was sudden and rough, not truly a kiss but more of a declaration of desperation. And I understood.

Three and a half years.

I kissed back just as hard, just lips and pulling each other closer until it was almost impossible. My hands gripped at his chest and good shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, and feeling a release in my chest that was so intense I almost fell over. Again, he was what kept me standing, arms wrapping around me, face close to mine, a familiar and unnatural heat. His mouth was so familiar again, and I flashed back to the first time and the last time I'd kissed him. Then it seemed like nothing could be better.

The second time, right now, was infinitly better. I heard him take in a breath, both of us holding on and falling into the realization, all at once, that this was real. I was alive, impossibly so, and he was here with me again, almost where it all had started and ended. And I wanted to stay there forever, just there, with no bad news and no more conflict. How I wished, so hard, that this reunion was the last obstacle that we had to face. I wished I didn't have bad news. I wished everything could be at peace, just once.

He pulled back, both of us panting, looking down at me with his hands firmly on my shoulders, eyes wide and mouth still partially open. I took a breath, blinking, hands falling to my sides and the bun in the back of my hair now almost completely undone. And then, after precious silent minutes, Thrax spoke in a voice I hadn't heard in a terribly long time.

"That enough 'hello' for you, baby?" Hector, that voice. I took in another breath, but before I could even finish it I was laughing quietly, half from nerves, and half from joy. Because it had taken so much, and now here I was. Here he was, and I knew that the rest wasn't going to be easy, but for right now I'd take what I was getting.

Breathless and chuckling, I could only nod to his question. And I looked back up at him, red skin and sharp features and yellow eyes and violet dreds. And had the door not opened just then, I'd have kissed him again. But it did, and voices rang into the room that made my heart jump.

"Yo! Thrax! We got word you were in the hospital! Guess all those years away made you soft, huh-" Thrax stepped away, hands falling from my shoulders as, slowly, we both looked to the door and the small group that had just walked in. A breath escaped my chest, three immunity officers and two germs standing just in front of the doorway. Three people I never thought I'd get to see again. My makeshift family portriat.

Osmosis Jones was in front, with Drix to his right and Maria to his left. Behind them, two familiar voices scrambled to see, but were blocked by taller legs. The three were what I focused on, the three that made my heart pound and a smile slowly find its way onto my face.

Ozzy stood in the same outfit as always, from black shoes to jacket, his face fallen and eyes wide. Maria next to him, eyes ever-suspicious finally giving way to shock and something muttered absent-mindedly in Spanish. Drix had one hand half over his mouth, eyes wide and floating just a bit lower. Ozzy, Maria, and Drix. I'd missed them almost the most, so much it hurt. And all I could do was stand there when I wanted to tackle them all.

"...Wait..."Ozzy said, voice quiet, eyes flickering from me to Thrax, then resting on me. Maria was the first to form a coherant sentence.

"Iris? But that's...impossible." I smiled at her, missing the accent, missing the relentless skepticism. Missing them. I shook my head.

"It's possible...just a bit complicated." I explained as best I could, and it was like letting open a flood gate. Without warning, Ozzy and Drix had lunged towards me, but unlike Thrax, there was much less kissing and much more bone-crushing hugging. Ozzy got to me first, wrapping me up in a hug so tight that I couldn't breathe, arms wrapping around me and shouting out,

"Oh my Hector! You-you..."He couldn't get out words, just squeezing impossibly tighter and laughing just as I had been. Drix slammed into us after, lifting the two of us clear off the floor and wheeping uncontrollably, all the while blubbering,

"I-I can't b-believe it! Our little girl's all back! Oh my, oh dear!" I would have laughed if I could breathe, but with the combined force of Ozzy and Drix, I was surprised nothing had broken. And yet I couldn't complain, because they were here. They were with me, hugging me, and I was hearing these dorks speaking and crying for the first time in three and a half years. I couldn't even begin to explain what it felt like. What that period of time can do to a person who needs their family.

"Yo! Put her down, you wanna snap her in half?" Thrax's angry snap came out, and Drix instantly set us down, sniffling with Maria rubbing his back, still looking at me incredulously. Ozzy stepped back but kept his hands firmly on my upper arms, his eyes glistening and a smile that split his face opening to say something.

Until the second wave hit.

"IRIS!" Two voices shouted out, dodging around Ozzy and tackling me to the floor. Suddenly there were arms gripping my neck, two sets, and two familiar voices cheering by my ears. This time, able to breathe and balancing myself on my hands behind me, I did laugh. I'd almost, almost forgotten these two, the germs that were dog-like loyal to Thrax. I sat forward and wrapped my arms around the skinny and fat germs.

"Sneeze! Sniff!" I exclaimed, and they gasped(Sniff sniffling).

"You remember us?" Sneeze asked in a high, excited voice. I nodded and said, patting their equally squishy, green-grey backs,

"Of course I do! You two were the greatest henchmen ever."

"They were?" I shot Thrax a look, and he rolled his eyes, but kept quiet. It took about a minute to peel the germs off me, but once they did Maria gave me a hand up(Drix finally getting control of himself) and asked, shaking her head,

"Iris...chica, I can't believe I'm seeing you...what happened? After...you know." She didn't want to say it, as if just speaking about it would suddenly reverse all of this and make it have actually happened. But my shoulders were sore from hugs, my face was sore from smiling, and my chest was sore from clenching tight at the euphoria of a moment delayed too long. It was all too real. And as badly as I wanted to tell them all, as much as I wanted to recount exactly what happened, to give them answers there and then, I couldn't. Not just yet.

"I'll tell you everything, I swear...trust me, you'll want to hear it. I'm not here for no reason," Ozzy, who was still smiling and bouncing on his feet like a child, suddenly gave a curious look, "but it has to be tomorrow, okay? Thrax has to rest, and I have to figure out a way to put it all in order, and...you'll all want sleep for this."

"But Iris!" Ozzy exclaimed, clearly not wanting to leave yet, looking like he wanted to wrap me up in another hug and not let go. And I wanted to let him. I wanted to sit here with everyone and talk into tomorrow, and then some. I wanted to joke and explain and let them know that I wanted to see them, that if I'd been given a sooner chance, I would have. I wanted to listen to them, to fall back into being the group we once were. But, even as I spoke, I saw Thrax silently sit back on the bed.

"I'm sorry, Ozzy. But tomorrow, as soon as possible, I'll meet you in the Immunity meeting room."

"Why can't we just come back here?"Drix asked in a stuffy voice, still wiping a tear away. I bit the inside of my lip and looked around to the few nurses walking past, looking in to see what the commotion had been all about. I shook my head.

"It isn't something I can explain here." Maria gave a concerned look, and I locked eyes with her, hoping she would know. Maria was the one who always understood, who made the decisions for the boys. This time was no exception, as she saw something in me and nodded, turning to the boys and putting her hands on their arms.

"Okay, move it boys! Iris ain't gonna be able to tell us if she's half-asleep, alright? But," She turned around as she ushered the boys and germs to the door, "she'll tell us every-little-detail tomorrow." It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. Part of me didn't want them to leave, giving a small wave as Sneeze and Sniff turned around to say 'goodbye' another dozen times. The other part collapsed into a plastic chair next to Thrax's bed the moment the door closed, the last thing being said by Drix,

"I can't believe it...she's back..."

Finally, the room was silent again, and I sighed. Five minutes made me more exauhsted than I'd been in weeks, and I was looking forward to sleeping as much as Thrax. I leaned an arm on the bed, looking up at him as he took my hand and put it on his leg. This hand had no glove, but it wasn't bare by any means. Without the left-hand glove, remembering the moment when I'd decided to leave at least one trace behind, one mark that I'd even been there at all, the hand did not match the other one. Insead of black leather, my entire left hand was wrapped in white bandages. From wrist to fingertips it was covered. For more reasons than one.

Thrax paid it little mind as he looked around, and I, eyelids falling rested my right arm next to him and buried the side of my face in it.

"Your jacket's over there," I nodded to the hook on the wall behind me, "just leave it for now. I'll get the glove tomorrow. Now sleep." He paused, hand flattening out on top of mine and brushing down as far as he could go. I no longer wore the white tank top, it having been unfortunately damaged in the capsul. Now I wore a long-sleeve button up, with sleeves that bunched up at my wrists because they were just a tad too long.

Absently, running a hand to my elbow, Thrax sighed and smirked a bit. I chuckled, knowing without him speaking.

"Had to go conservative in my old age." I muttered sleepily, and for the first time, things just began to settle back into how they used to be. It was barely so, and there were still feelings that we had to overcome, feeling of skepticism and bloated fear of this being fake, but there it was. That feeling, welling up in my chest and spreading in goosebumps across my skin, swelling and coming back as if it never left. I felt as if, maybe, it never had.

"Old age? How you gonna call twenty-two old, huh?"

"To make you feel bad. Now go to sleep." It was getting a bit difficult to articulate sentences, and it was only now that I remembered the last time I'd slept. Four days ago. But Thrax paused, hand resting in a warm patch on my forearm, until I had to open one eye and peek up at him. He was frowning down at my arm, and after a moment he shook his head. "Thrax?"

"...I don' wanna sleep."

"Don't be a child."I teased, but he didn't smile. He frowned, shaking his head and looking away in a look that I could have sworn by Hector was embarrasement. Worry creased my brow and I slid my hand back until I could lace my fingers through his, pressing my skin to his, missing this friction of cold and hot. "You have to sleep. You got blasted from an apartement, I saw. They said your shoulder's gonna be fine, but that bruise-"

"What if you ain't here when I wake up, huh?"

I was silenced, looking up and now a bit more awake. He smoothed back his dreads in a painfully familiar way, looking away. It wasn't like him to worry like this. Then again, hadn't he done just that right before our last meeting? And I knew how that ended... There was a pang of guilt in my chest, squeezing his hand and trying to breathe through it.

I wasn't blind to how much harder it had to be for him than me. I knew he was out there somewhere, I knew that there was the slightest chance of seeing him again. To him, that wasn't a luxury he could think or hope on. To him, I wasn't even alive anymore. And knew this fear he had, that I wouldn't be there, that this would all be some dream to wake up from. I had that, when I was sure I should have been dead, for months and months...and even now, there would always be that fear that I wouldn't wake up and somehow, some way, living had been a dream. That I really would never get to see him again, even now holding his hand.

I moved as much as I could and pressed a chaste kiss to the claw and said quietly,

"I'll be here. Promise." It took him a few breaths, but finally he conceeded and pushed himself back, settling against the pillow. I removed my hand only to throw covers over him, mummbling with my head down, face to him, "Want me to tuck you in?" He snorted, and for the first time in three and a half years he laughed. It did something, spreading some kind of warmth through my veins and making me smile right back. He turned to face me and took my hand in his, closing clawed fingers around it and lifting it just enough to press warm lips to the skin on the back, then resting it down.

"You'll be here?"

"I'll be here."

He made a grunting kind of noise, and it took all I had to not crawl in and put myself under his arm. I'd thought of it every night, the feeling of sleeping next to him, of waking up to him sleeping. Now I was so close...but he needed sleep. We all did. Today was the only respite we would be afforded...

Tomorrow, I'd have to tell them how, after three and a half years, I ended up back in Hector. As I fell asleep, hand warm and wrapped in his, I wished that I were here on better terms. I wished that I'd happened across a teenage Hector and reunited as peacefully as I wanted to. I wished that I hadn't followed someone back here.