"I've never seen anything like it," the young attending said, clicking off his penlight and peeling off his gloves, discarding them in the hazmat bin.
"Can it be fixed?" Dib asks, blinking ghost-light spots from his vision.
"Well, a hospital can do surgery to remove the hydrogel, and your eye itself should be in-tact behind it." He shook his head. "I've seen a folded contact lens before, but never grown into a torn eyelid. It looks as if it healed to the lens. How long ago do you say you were hit?"
"Um, about a week." He's never had a fractured orbital before but assumes that would be a relatively believable healing time period, though in reality it's only been a day or two.
The attending looks at him a long moment, then writes something down on a chart. "And you say you received no treatment for this?"
"Uh, well no, I just iced it.. And, um, put some neosporin on it." Dib rubs the back of his neck.
"Neosporin. On a fracture."
"Well some of it got in my eye, so.."
The attending raises brows at him and writes something else down. "Ok, well, I'm going to refer you to an ophthalmologist at the General." He tore off a sheet of paper and handed it to Dib. "In the meantime, don't put anything else in your eye, leave it alone. Make an appointment as soon as you can. See the receptionist to check out."
Dib pocketed the paper and rose from the table. "Hey, doctor?"
"Hm?" the young man lifted his gaze from the chart.
"Ah, I don't have anything on me at the moment.. But could you keep this.. undocumented? I have cash at home, I can-"
"Sir, everything is confidential between doctor and patients. Your records won't be disclosed to anyone."
"I know but.. There might be someone.."
The attending nodded, holding up a hand. "Alright. Get some help, okay? Don't stay in a bad situation."
Dib nodded, thinking this guy must figure he has a crazy girlfriend or something. He stops at the receptionist to check out, giving his fake name and explaining he has no driver's or insurance for the fourth time. She hands him a bill with payment options and sends him on his way.
He steps outside, shivering slightly in the cold October air. He starts walking, head down in thought, and bumps into a young woman.
"Oh, excuse me, I'm sorry," he looks up, embarrassed. She smiles tightly and nods, hurrying around him. Dib pauses outside a sub shop and dips inside after a wary glance around.
"Excuse me, may I use your phone?"
The shop owner regards him suspiciously but nods, placing it up on the counter. Dib dials a number and waits uncomfortably through five rings. Just before voicemail picks up, an irritated voice.
"What?"
"Gaz?"
"Who is this?" She sounds exactly the same. Two years haven't changed her a bit.
"It's me."
"Jesus Dib, what? I'm busy."
"I need a favor.."
"Jesus."
"Please don't hang up, okay, I'm sorry. I need you to come get me." He glances around at the shop owner and two customers pretending not to listen and lowers his voice. "I fucked up. I'm in bad."
A long pause and a sigh. "Where?"
He gives her directions, thanks the shop owner, and then goes outside to wait, feeling guilty he can't at least buy a drink or chips to make up for using the phone.
Gaz pulls up ten minutes later and he slides into her car. She drives without a word.
"Thank you." Dib folds his hands in his lap uncomfortably, watching the passing street and cars. He notices she is taking him towards his apartment. "No, not to my place."
"Then where?"
"I don't.. I.."
She sighs exaggeratedly and turns onto the highway leading to her own home. They say nothing the rest of the ride, the tension thick enough to bite.
Gaz pulls into her garage and gets out, leaving him as the door folds down, darkening the room. She goes into her house without a look back and Dib eventually gets out and follows.
Her house is so nicely decorated, pleasant and welcoming, unlike Gaz herself. Photos line the walls of Gaz and their father, a cat, friends, but none of Dib. She bangs around in the kitchen and Dib quietly lowers himself to a couch in the modest living room, looking about at the candles and magazines and a discarded pair tennis shoes.
Gaz appears with a plate of leftover lasagna and a glass of water. She sets both on the coffee table in front of Dib and leaves the room. His stomach claws ravenously and he picks up the plate, realizing how starved he is. His mind replays events as he eats. He awoke in an alleyway not far from the walk-in clinic, completely unaware of how he got there. He vaguely remembers the little elevator, the alien descending from view. Then.. nothing. Waking up cold in the strange place. It was afternoon, but he realized he didn't even know the exact time.
He heard the water run and sighed at the mere thought of a warm shower. He has nothing to change into though.
Dib stood from the couch and carried his empty dishes into the kitchen, placing them in the dishwasher. He noticed a small photo taped to the side of the fridge and leaned to get a better look. Himself and Gaz as kids, grinning silly stupid child smiles at some classmate's birthday party. One of the few they went to. Who took this photo? Certainly not their father. He was always too busy, too absent when they were growing up. Dib hadn't seen him in almost ten years, when he moved out of home at seventeen after high school. Gaz stayed, and it seemed she had a better relationship with their father after Dib left. Maybe Membrane realized he was loosing his children after Dib packed up. Or maybe he could make time for one child but not two.
"Go take a shower, you fuckin' smell." Gaz's voice startled him. He turned to look at her, then sheepishly made his way to the bathroom. He undressed and stepped into the warm stream of water, wanting to melt away into the drain with it. Gaz entered the room and picked up his clothes.
"Christ, these are fucked." She left again, taking the clothes with her. He heard the door open and close a few minutes later.
Dib pressed a hand against the wall and let the water run over his head, as if it could wash his thoughts away.
The alien. Why did it fix him up and release him, like an animal injured and trapped and released back into the wild. What about those other humans there, locked away like lab rats. What had he done to them? Dib wanted to help them but he remembered the alien's memory and shivered. Maybe they deserved their fate. Maybe he deserved the same.
He stepped out of the shower after a long while and wrapped up in a towel, feeling better. The man ran a hand over the fogged mirror and looked at himself closely, frowning. He needed a shave for sure. His attention went to his right eye. His contact lens had folded and apparently grown into a laceration underneath the lid. The alien's healing stuff didn't discriminate apparently. He looked down at the bit of stuff left on his finger and peeled it away. The cut from the mirror shard was gone, no mark left. Dib thought to check his leg and back but decided to leave it for a time. He took his left contact out and rinsed it, then replaced it so he could see out of one eye at least. Every time he blinked he felt the swipe of the right lens and it made his eye water.
A knock on the door disrupted his thoughts and he straightened.
"Here." Gaz opened the door and dropped a bag inside.
Dib picked it up and looked inside at the brand new clothes. He sighed.
The teal sweatshirt fit him perfectly, as did the jeans and socks. His boots were dirty and scarred but still good. He dressed quickly, feeling almost like new.
Gaz sat curled on the end of the couch, reading a book and sipping from a coffee mug. Dib stepped into the room hesitantly. Her eyes lifted to him briefly, then returned to their story.
"Thank you." He tugged at a sleeve and smoothed down the sweater self-consciously.
"Mm-hmm."
"I'm off now."
"Where?"
"I have some unfinished business."
"Dib." She sighed and snapped her book shut. "Why can't you ever just leave shit alone?"
He looked at her but she held up a hand, cutting him off.
"No. Go ahead. You're reckless and fucking stupid but you're going to do you anyways. At least let me drop you off somewhere."
"No, that's alright, I'll get a cab."
"With what money?"
His cheeks warmed and he looked down. She stood and moved across the room, picking up her purse and digging inside.
"Gaz, no-"
"Shut it." She produced a wad of bills and shoved them into his pocket. "Go on."
He shook his head but then reached out to touch her shoulder. She crossed her arms and leaned back, glaring. He dropped his hand and turned for the door.
"Dib."
He glanced back, hand on the door handle.
"Stay safe. Please."
He took his leave, shutting the door quietly behind him. Twilight colored the sky a beautiful star-flecked purple, barely visible behind the flickering streetlights. He thought back on the images from the screens as he walked. A street. Houses, parked cars. People walking. A cul-de-sac? There must be a million neighborhoods in this city, pin-pointing one will be impossible.
Suddenly, a thought dawned on him and he hastened his pace.