[[Author's Note: No song clip. I couldn't find one that fit this chapter. Also, thank you LittleGuyLover for the reviews! (go check out her stuff, it's flippin awesome. especially if you love Navel. LOL) Speaking of Mr. Bellybutton *shot* I mean Navel, I mean Little Guy, we'll get to him in the next chapter. ;) MUAHAHA!]]


"We hardly had any time for a conference. Do you remember the procedure?"

Resurgam seemed to just be waking up, and there was already an ambulance on the way, doomed to arrive within seconds. Maria had been busy with stabilizing the victim, and, as such, she had called about an emergency operation a bit late. While a suicide had been reported, no one had suspected a gash on the right temple, amongst other things. The surgeons barely had time to review the procedure, leaving the hulking orthopedic surgeon and the skinny, red-eyed prisoner waiting in the hallway outside the Operating Room for the patient to arrive. The young surgeon was standing straight and stiff near the green, sliding doors leading to the OR. In contrast, the tanned orthopedic surgeon was on a chair in the hallway.

"Ah... the procedure..." The prisoner paused for a second. Even he had problems remembering all the details. The conference was a bit rushed. "I'll make an incision at the lungs and drain any remaining water I find there."

"According to Maria, it took two people to get the diaphragm to react and push the water out of the lungs. Do you think it might be damaged?" The other surgeon inquired, turning his head towards the brown-haired teen in the unhooked straight-jacket.

"... That is irregular... but we'll have to wait for a diagnosis before trying to operate on that." He replied.

"Yeah, you're right. What about the temple?"

"I'm going to make the initial incision and repair any damaged tissue. There's a good possibility that the skull will be minorly fractured, so you'll have to walk me through the procedure."

"Ah, that won't be a problem." The orthopedic surgeon nodded.

"You're going to operate on the broken ribs, however."

"Yes, I remember Maria mentioning that. It seems we're good to go, eh?"

The emotionless surgeon remained quiet. He glanced towards the windows and the door.

"Hm?" The other surgeon looked as well. Suddenly, a high pitched noise began to flood into the building. It came in through the windows and deluged through the doors like water or slime. It was a distant sound... of an ambulance. It came closer and closer - louder and louder - until it stopped getting louder altogether.

"The patient has arrived." The red-eyed surgeon said with a serious tone. "Hurry and get ready."

At that, the two surgeons leaped into action, putting on their gloves and moving all the tools and fluids into easy-to-get places. The orthopedic surgeon checked all the tools to make sure they were at their best.

The instant they were finished, the green doors burst open, and and unmistakable voice began shouting.

"Alright! Hank! Kid! You guys better be ready in here!" It was Maria, a paramedic. Behind her, was a stretcher with the patient on it, being pushed by three paramedics. Maria sounded a little mad, which was both normal and strange.

"Yes, we're ready." The red-eyed surgeon said first. "Set the patient on the table. We'll begin the operation immediately."


"Scalpel."

The red eyed prisoner made the first incision near the lungs. Hank, who was at his side assisting, prepared to drain so it was read when he asked for it.

"Ah... This doesn't look good." The red-eyed surgeon suddenly murmured.

"What doesn't look-" Maria looked at the operating field. The lung was bruised and hemorrhaged at the bottom near the diaphragm.

"I see..." The prisoner murmured to himself, but in such a way that everyone heard him. "The diaphragm was reacting when you were trying to perform the Heimlich Maneuver, but that wasn't the problem. There was too much water and too much weight, so it could force the water out until you used an enormous amount of force."

"So the lungs was hemorrhaged and bruised because of that ? !" Maria shouted, shock and anger on her face. "GAH! DAMN THAT AGENT!"

The prisoner ignored Maria's suspicious remark and proceeded to talk. "We can't treat the bruises, but those will heal on their own. We need to treat the hemorrhaging right now before they cause her to lose too much air. Sutures."

"Right here!" Hank handed him the needle and threads. The 'kid', as Maria had called him earlier, stitched the lacerations easily.

"Drain." He called next, which was quickly handed to him. "There's blood here... although it looks lighter in color than normal. It must be mixed with all the water from her lungs."

A click and quiet sucking-sound - kind of like someone drinking a milkshake through a straw - was heard as the surgeon turned on the drain and vacuumed up the blood and water that was on the outside of the lung.

"It's too risky cutting the lung open and draining any remaining water. We'll drain her air too quickly." Hank said. The prisoner gave a quick nod.

"Closing up this area." He said firmly, suturing it up and bandaging it before walking over to the other side of the table. His assistants followed.

"I dabbed up the blood as best I could!" Maria said as the kid removed the temporary bandages Maria had placed. The gash he saw underneath was large, but not that large. Maybe the size of a half-dollar coin.

The prisoner drained any blood that hadn't already dried. "Forceps." He called, using them to pull the wound together before suturing it shut. Although, now he had to make the actual cut.

"Alright, I'm making the incision. Dr. Freebird, walk me through this, please." The kid said in his usual emotionless tone.

"Right. Let's see what we're dealing with, first."

The surgeon opened the wound. The skull underneath was cracked, with all the cracks leading to the center like a bloodshot eye. Not one of the pieces had fallen, but most of them were detached from the rest of the skull. A blow like this must've caused the patients unconsciousness, not the lack of oxygen.

"... That's not quite as bad as I feared..." Hank mumbled, trying to stay positive. "Can you remove any of those bone fragments?"

The kid took the forceps and poked at a bone fragments, which jiggled like a loose tooth hanging on by a thread. Carefully, he grasped it with the forceps and found it to be detached, moving it onto a tray to his right. "Yes, I can." The surgeon said, as if that wasn't immediately obvious.

"Okay, collect all the fragments, but be quick and careful. We can't leave the brain exposed to air for too long."

The red-eyed surgeon did as he was told - quickly and carefully. He had all the pieces on the tray in a matter of seconds. Hank immediately grabbed his own set of forceps and worked on assembling the pieces.

"In this case," He explained while he worked, "It's easier to assemble the pieces and put the finished piece into place." Maria and the prisoner watched him intently. Maria wasn't really listening to his narration.

A few seconds later, Hank put his forceps down. "Rock Solid. Done!" Hank announced, passing the tray to the surgeon, who affixed the bone in place after rotating it a few times. It fit perfectly.

"No synthetic bones required. That's a relief." Hank sighed.

"Dr. Freebird, you'll take command of the operation from here." The prisoner reminded while finishing the stitching on the right temple and securely bandaging it. "There."

"You're up, Hank!" Maria yelled, as if to remind him further.

"Right!" Hank said with enthusiasm, making his own incision into the girl's chest.

The results of her suicide will be pain and three scars... The red-eyed surgeon thought. I wonder...


"... Hey..."

"... You there...?"

"... Open your eyes..."

The girl awoke to find herself in a big plain of some kind. The area around her was dark, and smoke surrounded every surface except the circle of land she was standing on. The girl carefully got to her knees, feeling the soft grass on her palm, and then to her feet, which felt every blade of grass - every droplet of dew.

"... Over here..."

A voice ran through the girl's ears. It was coming from all directions, like she was surrounded by speakers on all sides. The girl carefully looked around in front of her, but all she saw was fog.

"... Behind..."

It didn't take long for the girl to decipher the clue. She slowly turned her head to look behind her, her eyes filled with insecurity and caution.

A silhouette was standing in the fog, long and slender, arms resting comfortably at its sides. The silhouette had a slight hourglass figure, hips jutting out just a bit, despite being mostly flatchested. Her long, straight hair didn't move an inch in the light breeze, and just stayed in place like a doll's hair. The girl couldn't tell if the shadow was facing her or turned away from her... but somehow, she could feel the heat of its gaze.

"Who... who are you...?" The girl whispered, even though - in her heart - she knew too well who the shadow was.

"... You failed..."

She didn't answer the question, but it was quickly forgotten by the girl. The girl's eyes widened at the words. She had failed? ... Failure...? Why had she failed... what did she fail on? So many questions ran through the girl's mind, but before she could speak any of them, the silhouette's head lowered and began to talk again.

"... Go..."

"... Open your eyes..."

"... See your new home..."

"... They're waiting for you..."

With that, the shadow seemed to turn around. Its voice faded out, and its body began to fade as well.

"Ah...!" The girl gasped, reaching her hand out and collapsing onto her knees. "W-what do you mean...?"

There were no more words. The area around her began to fade, like a shadow was slowly swallowing it. And soon, she faded as well.


"Mmm..."

The girl groaned and opened her eyes just a little. She found herself lying on her back, staring up at a bright orange ceiling. The girl glanced down without lifting her head and felt her surroundings with her fingertips. She was on a bed of some sort. It wouldn't be the most comfortable thing in the world to most people, but the girl hadn't been in a real bed for months... maybe years. Being on something soft and clean was like heaven.

The girl smiled. All the more evidence that she was dead. Now she was a ghost. Maybe this was what life was like for a ghost. It certainly was cushy.

The girl put her elbow on the bed and pushed herself into a sitting position. The covers on the bed shifted, revealing what the girl was wearing. It was a baby blue hospital gown. She guessed that all ghosts wore these, and thought nothing of it.

The girl looked around the room to see of there was anything of interest. The room swam around her like rippling water, and the left side of her head ached, making it difficult to gather her focus. She eventually got some kind of clear view. The whole room was the same color, except the floor, which was paste white and made of large tiles. To her right was a large window, which was positioned so she could look out it while she was in bed. Gazing out the window, she had a clear view of the parking lot, which wasn't that full, despite being around noon, and a portion of the roof. Thankfully, the roof was also bare, save for a few pigeons.

The girl shifted her attention to the left side of the room, which looked considerably larger, because her bed was up against the right wall. There was a small desk with what looked like a portable laptop and a few papers. There was a small, metal wastepaper basket beside the desk that was 1/4th full of crumpled up papers. To the left of the wastepaper basket was a small closet. Undoubtedly where the doctor's coats and some medicines were kept.

However, there was one thing in the room that drew her attention most. In front of the desk was a small office chair. It was the kind that had four wheels connected to a single shaft that led up to the chair part, and it was built to roll around. The girl liked those kinds of chairs. She pictured having races down the hallway by kicking off a wall and rolling away. She had this same idea with shopping carts, and she remembered the day she tried it. That was how she got a bruise on her arm and a scolding from the manager. It had still been a fun day.

But what was even more interesting about the chair was what was on it: a person! He was asleep, laying his head peacefully on a mat of papers that were on the desk, while one of his arms was resting on the desk and the other hung over to his side, swaying slightly. His hair was dark brown - nearly black, actually - and extremely unkempt. The hair on the back of his head was splayed out, even though it wasn't at all long. A piece of hair on top of his head limply hung down, touching the table like a broken arm. His bangs rested in front of his face and moved slightly every time the boy exhaled. Overall, it looked like a big gust of wind has flown through the room and styled his hair. The girl couldn't help but smile at its messiness.

Unlike the boy's hair, the rest of his appearance was relatively spotless. His white doctor's coat could be mistaken for what angels wear. But that wasn't all he was wearing. She had to tilt her head at a weird angle to see it, but he was wearing a huge one-piece outfit underneath his coat. It was white, and had many stripes and buttons, as well as a strap-like thing for the neck part. The shoes were even part of the outfit. They were connected to the pants, and the pants were part of the shirt. It was kind of cute, actually, and if it had a hood, he might look like a Teletubbie. She was disappointed to see that it didn't have a hood.

Despite this, both the doctor's coat and the weird, stripy, onesie were too small for him - at least, in the sleeves. Half of his forearm was fully exposed. His forearm was very skinny, too. She could practically see the bones in his hands. Still, he looked like the type that was skilled with his hands... like they had gotten a lot of use in the past.

The girl smiled at the boy, despite how his eyes were closed and he couldn't smile back. She was well aware that she was probably a ghost, but she decided that she would be friendly. The girl gently folded the covers back and rotated her body into sitting position. She felt pain in her chest coming from her ribs, warning her not to take another step, but she ignored it. Who cares about pain when you're a ghost? The girl stared at the floor and gingerly touched it with her toes. It was smooth and cold, but she liked how it felt on her feet. Although, how could she walk if she was a ghost? The girl didn't know. Maybe she was a zombie? Nah, that's silly. She didn't crave to eat the boy's brains.

Never the less, the girl slowly put more pressure onto her feet until she could press against the mattress with her arms and move herself into standing position. It was weird how she had to use this technique, but she had to be careful. Her ribs were still warning her not to make any sudden movements, or they would begin complaining. It was like learning to walk for the first time again. The girl smiled.

The girl grabbed the covers to her bed (She guessed that the myth about ghosts not being able to grasp solid objects was bullcrap) and gingerly walked over to the boy, standing on her tiptoes, but still standing straight. She silently approached the boy, who continued to sleep, only murmuring a little and moving his head and arm a little.

Finally, she was right next to him. They were only a foot apart, and she could hear every breath he took and see his chest lightly rising and falling. The girl leaned down just a little and spread the covers from her bed over him and the chair he was sitting on. The boy groaned a little in his sleep as soon as she did this, making the girl jump a little.

"... Rosa... lia..." He murmured. His voice was deep for his age. He looked so young. 16, maybe? She was no good with ages. "... stop that... I'm not... gonna give you a piggy-back ride..." The boy grunted and shifted his position again. Was he having a happy dream or a nightmare? The girl had no idea, but she thought it was cute anyway. The girl looked at his face and his peacefully closed eyes. He sure had long lashes for a boy! The girl quickly bent down to get a better look.

That was a mistake.

Her ribs began to scream at her and blasted pain up through her chest like rockets. "A... h...!" The girl stumbled into the back wall, covering her mouth with one hand and clutching her aching, agitated chest with the other. The pain was intense, like her bones were sharp jigsaw pieces threatening to come loose and pierce her body if she made another move. Still, she had to cover her mouth. She didn't want to wake the boy, even if she was in so much pain.

"U...gh!" The girl groaned, but it was muffled by her mouth. If she stayed bent over, the pain lingered like a foul stench. If she straightened, it intensified. She didn't know what to do. She squeezed her eyes shut and avoided the urge to make anymore noises out of pain.

Suddenly, she felt something warm against her chest. It was warm, but it was kind of soft. Not like a blanket... she couldn't describe it. Slowly the girl opened her eyes and looked up.

A pair of red eyes looked down at her. His eyes were cold and emotionless, like he wanted to kill her right there. She stared into his eyes with fear. It was like the eyes of a vampire through a forest of unkempt hair.

His strong hands were on her shoulders, squeezing them slightly. For a second, she thought she would die by his hand... until she noticed. He had the covers to her bed laying on his shoulders and wrapped around his body like a veil or cape. But he was missing something... his doctor's coat!

The girl stared down at his hands. He wasn't pinning her against the wall, he had placed something on her. His coat. That warm feeling must've been his body heat from the coat... and yet, his hands were making her shoulders feel cold. Why? She couldn't understand...

"... Are you alright?" The boy asked, his voice void of any emotion whatsoever. The girl looked up at him. She had nearly forgotten about the pain in her chest. The curiosity of the boy with red eyes had been its own painkiller... but once she remembered the pain, it came right back, but it was dulled. It didn't have close to the strength it had before.

The girl looked at the ground, and then back at his face. Her dull, green eyes filled with guilt.

"I'm sorry I woke you-" "Sorry I fell asleep-"

The two spoke at the exact same time. The red-eyed, dark haired boy blinked as if he was confused, but wasn't sure how to show it. The girl's eyes widened.

Suddenly, she started to giggle. Her chest groaned in pain from the bursts of air it took to giggle, but she ignored the pain, even if it intensified.

The docotr took his hands off her shoulders. She kept giggling. She couldn't help it. It was too funny how they were both guilty.

The young, red eyed doctor wished he knew why she was laughing.

And he wished he had a chance to join in.