[ With previous chapters, I've had friends helping me with feedback. Due to real world concerns, they've been unavailable. As a result, I'm afraid this chapter may not have turned out nearly as well as I'd hoped. If anything is confusing, hard to follow or otherwise seems like a problem, please feel free to let me know and I'll see what I can do about it. ]

8

Towering, mechanical cthulu-esque things tear apart the world searching for me, hunting me down. Occassionally one will catch me and tear a part of me off with tentacles composed of blood-soaked steel cables as they bellow their machine roars, making it seem like the world itself is shaking at their indescriminate fury. Little by little they take me apart until I'm dragging myself on the ground trying to crawl away from them in a terrified panic with just my right arm. There's no where to escape to from these mountainous horrors.

I wake up feeling like I'm suffocating, the sense that something terrible is hunting me fading quickly. I heave a tired sigh and roll onto my back, to stare up at the darkened ceiling. Scanning the room tell's me it's very early morning again, pre-dawn most likely. I still feel very tired, but I am in absolutely no hurry to get back to sleep. Reaching over the edge of the mattress, I thumb the switch to adjust the bed's position until I'm sitting upright. This bed, the walls around me, everything about this room hits me with an almost claustrophobic feeling. I need to get out of here. Out of this bed at least.

Wrapping myself in the thin blanket, carefully keeping my right arm free, I turn and grab my pillow and toss it onto the floor. Then I lay down on my stomach and slowly slide backwards off the bed, lowering myself until I'm sitting on the pillow. Keeping myself propped against the bed, I take a moment to survey my surroundings in the dim light. The change in perspective, as well as the grey pre-dawn light, makes everything seem strangely alien. Or maybe it's a combination off all those things plus my surreal circumstances. My body no longer has parts that I was born with, and I'm still struggling with how to deal with that.

I heave another tired sigh and slowly fall over onto my right side, my hand and forearm quietly smacking against the floor as I catch myself. Then I move off the pillow, grabbing it up with my residual left arm by pinching it into my armpit, and slowly make my way towards the doorway. As I pull myself along, I slide while balanced as much on my right hip as possible, to reduce the sound of the implants on the ends of my thighs scraping the floor. The thin blanket muffles the sound greatly but still, in my mind it's a strangely nerve-wracking sound, considering what the source is. Crawling into the living room area, I pause for a moment. The only sounds are the electronics in the clinic, the patter of rain outside and the quiet snoring of Gerhad sleeping on the cot not far from my room.

I was going to sit out here for a moment, but I decide not to risk waking a nurse who's probably getting far too little sleep as it is. The dim lamp next to her brightens up the room enough to make me consider going back for the glasses I didn't think I'd need, but I decide not to bother. Perhaps it's some odd impulse to start trying to do more with less. Or maybe I'm just an absent-minded idiot.

While my mind wanders, I start slowly making my way towards the kitchen instead. Once I get there, I stop at the entry and look into the room. I feel like there was a specific purpose for coming here that's slipped my mind.

'Ah, that must be it,' I think to myself, 'I was gonna try and get a drink of water.' I look over the sink and the area around it. It's fairly high from where I now sit. I glance down at what's left of my legs, then look away in sudden disgust wondering what the hell I was thinking. 'Yep! I'm a fuckin' idiot.' Luckily, I'm not feeling all that thirsty. I can wait.

I scoot over to the wall near the entryway and position myself so I can sit with my back against it's surface and look out the window across the room, at the slowly brightening world outside. I place the pillow down and move onto it, leaning against the cool surface of the kitchen wall. Taking a deep breath, I slowly let it out and try to relax, attempting to let go of the tension and anger. The more I try to pull myself together, the more my thoughts seem to scatter. I gaze out the window across from me, past the tracks of raindrops, and try not to think. At all. It doesn't work, of course. My mind races, a stream of thoughts flashing through it.

A part of me keeps trying to imagine what it would be like to spend night after night, day after day out in rain like that. No secure place to sleep, no safe place to lay my head. A spiraling descent into starvation and desperation. But for now, I have a safe place to stay and food. The thought doesn't bring me any happiness or peace of mind, it just keeps me from becoming more depressed at my current state. Things could easily change for the worse. Even so, I close my eyes and send a prayer of thanks to the good lord for my current fortune. If nothing else, I've made it farther than I thought I would, and it hasn't been all bad.

Can't really imagine what would make me worth saving. I mean, I've always tried to be a good Christian, but it seems as if I fail more often than not. Anger comes easily. Forgiveness, not so much. However, I made a promise, when I vowed to follow His son's path. Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the sick and afflicted. Basically, help those in need, when I'm able. I thought I'd been doing that, but what if I was wrong? What if all I've been doing up to now has been hiding? Maybe in reality, I've been distancing myself from my duties, using these strange circumstances as an excuse.

The same old, malicious whispering,'And now here you are, broken and useless, taking up space in the home of people who have got far more important matters to take care of. With everything else they're dealing with, now they're expending resources on taking care of you.' My thoughts begin to flash by as my depression tries to drown me under a flood of reasons why I've become a selfish, terrible burden. 'What's the point of you even being here? Surely they'd be better off if they didn't have to bother with you?'

The world seems to darken a little as a small voice answers back, 'Maybe you're right.'

My eyelids grow heavier as depression steals what little energy I had.

I'm startled awake by what sounds like someone shouting. A noise draws my attention to the doorway on my right, where I see Alita hurriedly step into the room, wearing what looks like pajamas.

She quickly surveys the area, her gaze coming around to land on me, sitting not more than a meter from where she's standing. She turns and shouts into the other room, "He's in here!" Then she walks around to stand in front of me and asks with a mix of curiosity and concern, "Jason, what are you doing?"

I'm expecting to hear metallic footfalls from her bare feet, but there's only a quiet padding sound. Guess it stands to reason that the underside of her feet might be cushioned. Just as I open my mouth to answer, I'm interrupted by doctor Ido rushing into the room.

"Jason!" he exclaims in some alarm, nearly skidding to a halt, "What the hell are you doing in here?"

A flash of panic hits me at the thought that they might put me back in restraints. "Uh, I-I just had to get out of that room." My gaze flitters between the two of them, then over to Gerhad as she enters the room. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Alright, at least you're safe," Ido interjects, more calmly. "So, why are you sitting on the kitchen floor?"

My mind stumbles through an explanation that I only just manage to force out of a mouth that's reluctant to work, "Well... I couldn't sleep. Sometimes, when insomnia hits me, I'll get up and walk around a bit to try and relax, but..." I can't bring myself to finish the sentence. I shrug at him and my gaze drifts off to look out the windows. The rain has stopped.

"Ah," Ido says sympathetically in a quiet voice, "I see."

I force myself to look him in the eyes, "Yeah. Like I said, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to sneak out or anything. I just had to... I dunno, do something."

"I'll get the wheelchair," Gerhad says with a tip of her head towards the other room.

Ido nods to her and get's down on one knee as she leaves. Leaning on his raised knee he says to me, "You know, next time this happens, you could just ask for something to help you sleep. Or even for a little time away from the Recovery room."

"Yeah, well," a twinge of embarrassment brings my gaze down to the floor, "I didn't want to bother anyone, especially at such an early hour."

Gerhad returns with the wheelchair, brings it to a stop next to me and gently scolds me, "That's considerate of you, but you really should ask for help next time. Better that than having you crawling around on the floor, alright?"

Feeling like a complete idiot, I furtively glance up at her and say quietly, "Yes, ma'am." It seems my 'trying not to bother anyone', is bothering everyone. That seems about par for the course.

After he helps Gerhad settle me into the wheelchair, Ido turns to Alita and asks her, "Would you keep an eye on him while Gerhad and I see to breakfast?"

"Sure," she says as she steps over to the wheelchair.

After leaving the kitchen, Alita stops at the edge of the little circle formed by the couch and chairs, and asks me, "So, I'm guessing you'd like to stay out of bed for now?"

Still feeling a little sting of humiliation, I nod and answer quietly, "Yes."

"Alright," she says rather cheerfully, "anything in particular you'd like to do?"

Her more cheerful demeanor helps clear away some of that stubborn embarrassment. "Well," I answer slowly, "maybe I could just sit by a window for a while?"

"Sure," she says with a note of surprise. "That's all?"

A quiet sigh escapes as I answer, "I've been stuck in bed, in a small windowless room for days, now. If it's not too late, I'd like to watch the sunrise. Or at least look out at the sky for a bit."

She heads over to Recovery and trades my pillow for my glasses, then turns the wheelchair towards the back of the clinic and pushes me down a short hallway towards a simple, cage-like elevator that looks like something out of the 1930s. "You know," she says pleasantly, "you could have just asked before now."

Somewhat morosely I respond, "Yeah, well..." 'My depression makes me feel imprisoned, isolated, like I'm too much of a burden to bother people with my own needs' "... I'm not always that smart." As she maneuvers me into the elevator, I ask, "So, where're we goin'?" I gesture towards the living room, "Figured you could just set me over there."

"I could," she pauses to press close the gate and press a button, "but the upstairs will have a better view."

"Ah. Okay, then." Though I appreciate her going to the trouble, I can't help but feel like an intruder. It's like, being as I'm a patient, I should stay in the clinic level below. I can't help but feel I've got no business invading this more private living space, despite having been effectively invited. I'm an outsider, I don't belong here.

We make our way down the hall, past four other doors, two on each side. A couple of the doors are slightly ajar. A glimpse inside the first one as we pass reveals a room that is decorated in a manner reminiscent of a teenage girl's room. Realizing that this is likely Alita's room, I feel a faint shock of surprise. Guess I was expecting something more along the lines of a sparse dojo-like room with weapons lining the wall, or some such. Instead, it looks like my younger cousin's room, many years ago when she was a teenager. The second room seems to hold only a bare-mattressed bed and several boxes stacked around it.

We reach the open doorway at the end of the hall. The doorway opens into the wider end of a trapezoidal room. This one looks like it makes up the blunt point of the roughly triangle-shaped layout of the building, the narrow end hanging out over the main entrance below, like the bow of a ship. The interior of this room looks like a study of some kind. A desk sits against one wall and there are a couple of armchairs. The wall in which the doorway resides is lined with bookshelves filled with books, some almost new, most old and worn.

Alita puts me near some windows, setting the brakes. Then she opens up the curtains, revealing a bright and nearly clear sky. The sun is probably up, but hidden by the buildings of the city skyline. One of the reasons I've never much cared for cities.

"You think you can stay out of trouble while I go do something real quick?" she asks with a hint of humor.

Holding in a sigh of exasperation, I respond evenly, "I ain't goin' anywhere." 'Where's there for me to go, anyway?' I think bitterly.

With a nod she says, "I'll be right back." She briefly lays a hand on my shoulder as she leaves.

Though my skin twitches at the contact, I try not to shrink from her touch. When she's gone, I settle in, figuring I'll be here a while. At least I can finally see the sky, and the view's actually not bad. Zalem is nowhere to be seen from this angle. It's absence goes unmourned.

Before I know it, Alita returns, dressed in dark-colored street clothes. She grabs the chair from the desk, places it next to me and whips it around to sit down on it backwards, her arms folded across the backrest.

I take a moment to marvel at the graceful speed with which she pulls the whole maneuver off, then comment, "You're really fast."

She looks over at me, the corners of her small mouth turned up slightly and shrugs, "One of the perks of being a cyborg.

"Hm. Didn't expect you to be back so soon."

Looking at me askance, her eyes narrow slightly and she asks, "You weren't actually planning something, were you?"

A slight shake of my head as I turn my gaze back out the window, "No, nothin' like that. Just figured you had better things to do."

"Well, I do have plans later," she says simply, turning back to the window, "but for now, Ido wants to make sure you're not left alone for too long."

"Ah, yeah. After all, I might sneak off with his wheelchair using my whole one arm." Bitterness turns an attempt at levity into something less so.

"Hey," she says straightening up in her chair, "you might be surprised what you can accomplish with one arm."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I snort quietly, "A cybernetic, maybe. How 'bout a fifty-three year old, flesh and blood arm with developing arthritis?" I flex my hand, noting that for the first time in a while now, I haven't actually felt the flare-up of arthritis. In fact, it hasn't bothered me the whole time I've been in this clinic.

She says nothing, just frowns slightly and goes back to looking out the window.

We sit and watch the sun rise up over the skyline. It doesn't take long. The orange glow engulfing the remaining clouds brightens to a more golden color. It's beauty is marred by the jagged city skyline. After the sun clears the tops of the buildings, I think to ask her, "Just outta curiosity, where's Zalem from here?" It occurs to me that I'm not even sure where in Iron City I am.

Alita points off to my left, "That way. Did you want to see it?"

"No," I respond with a touch more anger than intended. Calming the sudden spike in emotions, I continue in a more apologetic tone, "I was just curious. Glad to have one morning where I don't have to look at it." While I now know I'm not under Zalem, that doesn't tell me much. Iron City spreads out to cover a larger area than what's covered by Zalem's diameter.

A few minutes later, Gerhad calls us down for breakfast. As Alita pushes me towards the elevator I ask, "Is there any possibility I could get some real clothes? I would really like to get out of this gown, please."

"You'll have to ask Gerhad. She's the one who put your things away for safe-keeping."

"Okay." Self-consciousness trips me up, making me unsure as I add, "And, uh, thanks for the view. It was nice to see a sunrise after being stuck in that little room for so long."

She closes the elevator gate and turns to me with a bright smile. "No problem," she says lightly hitting the button, "Glad you liked it."

For whatever reason, my mood is significantly better during breakfast. At this point, I don't care why, only that it is. As I'm halfway through my cup of coffee, nagging thoughts coalesce into questions.

During a lull in his conversation with Alita over some Motorball business, I ask Ido, "You said you've never encountered anyone else with my problem, right?"

He nods, taking a bite of food, "That's right. It's like nothing Gerhad and I have ever seen. I've even asked around, obliquely. No one else who's dealt with installing or maintaining cybernetics has encountered anything like it."

"Hm. Okay." I hesitate to ask the specific question, thinking it's probably going to sound stupid.

"Something on your mind?" he asks, politely prompting me.

I lean back in the wheelchair, collecting my thoughts before answering. "Well, this is probably a stupid question, but," I glance around the table, "why do you even have a wheelchair?" I don't bother mentioning the little things I've noticed. Screw holes in the wall of the bathroom, where it looks like bars were fastened, as if to facilitate someone in a wheelchair using the toilet. Or the black marks and other little bits of damage to small areas of the walls and doorjambs, of a height where it looks like the main wheels of a wheelchair have rubbed up against them.

The table becomes quiet. Gerhad shoots a faintly concerned look at Ido. He looks back at her serenely before turning to me.

"That particular wheelchair," he says with a nod at the one I'm in, "is a spare. It's the twin to one that was used by my daughter after my family was exiled here from Zalem."

I open my mouth to say something, but surprise at the twin revelations of him having had a family and being an exile from that floating city, trips me up. I quickly glance around at the others and back to him as my mind rapidly processes this sudden news.

Belatedly realizing I just brought up what must be a painful subject, as there's no sign of this family, I attempt to apologize, "Oh, uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry-"

Ido holds up a hand as he interrupts me, "It's alright, it was years ago."

Relief that I didn't put my figurative foot in my mouth as badly as I'd feared washes over me. I nod, deciding to keep any further questions to myself. I feel like an absolute moron for bringing up painful memories for the people trying to help me. Ido doesn't seem all that bothered, however.

As he continues taking the occasional bite of food, "My daughter was born with a degenerative condition that was slowly destroying her nervous system, leaving her with a progressing paralysis. Because she didn't meet the standards of genetic purity the leadership of Zalem demanded, she was to be exiled to Iron City."

Almost involuntarily, my eyes narrow and my muscles tense slightly at the mention of 'genetic purity'. My already low opinion of Zalem drops even further.

After a quick sip of coffee, Ido continues, "My wife and I refused to give her up. So we were exiled together." He glances at me with a faint smile, humorless, yet wistful. "When we got here, we started this clinic. It would serve to help the people who needed it and give us the facilities to build our daughter a new, stronger body."

Everyone's stopped eating at this point. Alita, sitting across from me, reaches out and gently takes Ido's hand. He smiles warmly at her. Gerhad offers a sympathetic smile when he looks in her direction. He returns it with a very brief answering smile. In the presence of these little shows of affection, I feel very much like an intruding outsider. I remain silent and still.

He continues, "Unfortunately, my daughter was murdered one night, before her new body could be entirely completed. Afterwards, I got rid of a number of things, including the 'chair she was using." He gestures towards the wheelchair, "I had actually forgotten that we still had this one in storage."

With a short nod, I quietly tell him, "I'm sorry to hear that. My condolences." I clamp my jaw shut, determined not to ask any more stupid questions.

Despite the pained sadness in his eyes, one side of his mouth curves up in a faint smile. "Thank you. It's been by no means easy, but I've found a purpose, and people," he smiles more brightly at Alita and Gerhad, "to help me get through it." His smile fades as he says earnestly, "If you ever need to talk, about anything, I'll try to make myself available."

Self-consciously fiddling with my coffee cup, I say, "Well, I appreciate the offer, but from the looks of things you folks have more than enough of your own problems."

Ido shrugs slightly, "Perhaps, but I can still lend an ear should you ever need one."

"That goes for me, too," Gerhad says firmly.

Glancing down at my nearly empty plate I nod, "Well, thank you. I'll keep it in mind." I do appreciate them making the gesture, but I've learned over the years that people are rarely ever sincere about such offers. Even if they don't mean to be insincere, that's just how things turn out.

After breakfast, as doctor Ido is clearing the dishes, I ask Gerhad if they still have my clothes.

"I would really love to get out of this gown," I say to her.

Her brow furrows as she frowns slightly, "I'm afraid not. We had to cut you out of the clothes you were brought in with to deal with your wounds. They were pretty well soaked with blood, anyway."

'I'd almost bled to death when Loretta brought me in.' I swallow at the sudden dryness in my throat. "Yeah, I guess I should have figured as much."

"You know what we could do," Alita says as she places the last coffee mug in the sink, "we could at least get you moving on your own."

"You're gonna take care of that?" Gerhad asks appreciatively.

Alita slightly shrugs a shoulder, "I don't have anything pressing for now, and it'll free you and Ido up to deal with the clinic."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Ido says cheerfully. He gives her a quick kiss on the side of her forehead as he makes his way past her.

As Alita unlocks the brakes on the wheelchair and starts pushing me into the main room, I turn my head towards her to ask, "So, whaddya mean exactly by getting me moving on my own."

"Oh, Gerhad was going to install a motor, drive system and controls on your wheelchair so you could control it yourself, give you a little independance back."

I feel myself perk up a bit at that, "Really? Well, that'll be..." 'Nice?' There's a quick stab of an almost sickening feeling, along with anger at the thought that it really will be nice to have a motorized wheelchair. I try to shake it off. 'These people are really trying to help. Even if I am still stuck in this wheelchair, at least I'll have some level of mobility back.'

Alita brings me to a stop in an out-of-the-way corner of the clinic. "You alright?" she asks as she steps into view. Her eyebrows are raised slightly as she looks down at me with a trace of concern in her eyes.

I take a deep breath, attempting to throw off my mood, "Yeah. Sorry. Just spaced out, guess I'm still tired."

"Okay. Well, you sit tight, I'll go grab what we need from the basement."

"Yes!" I say after her, "I'll sit." My attempt at sounding more cheerful ends under a shallow wave of depression, "Right here."

I wait quietly, listening to the sounds of the doctor and nurse readying the clinic for the day. An early patient comes in, a middle-aged man with most of his body replaced from the look of him. He stares at me in open curiosity while I sit there trying to pretend I don't notice. This goes on for a bit before nurse Gerhad comes along to direct him to an examination area behind a screen. By the time Alita returns with a small box, I'm shaking, on the edge of a panic attack.

To my surprise, she notices the faint trembling. "Hey, you alright?" she asks, lightly putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Uh, yeah!" I straighten up, fighting to retain control of my anxiety, "I'm fine." I look at the box she holds, "So, what's all this?"

"Oh, this is the drive motor, battery and..." she takes her hand from my shoulder and pulls out a little flat box with a thin joystick and buttons on it, "control panel. Everything we need to get you moving on your own." The system definately looks cobbled together, but it still has the appearance of professional work.

With that, she sits down cross-legged to begin installing the motor into the underside of the wheelchair. I lean over the arm of the chair and watch as she works. I'd hoped the systems wouldn't be so different that maybe I could help or something, but even though it all looks pretty similar to what I've worked with in the past, Alita puts it together with plenty of speed. By the time she's done, my anxiety has settled back to more manageable levels.

When she's done, I give it a try. While all those years of video games seem to pay off to some degree, I have enough trouble that we decide I need some practice. Particularly after I bump into a floor lamp, nearly breaking it. I was certain this would be easier than it is. We look around for an open area, but the only place close is the living room.

"It'll have to do," she announces. She then proceeds to clear a spot out, easily moving the couch and chairs aside as if they were made of balsa wood. When she's done, she gestures to the clearing with both arms, "Alright, there you go."

Taking it a little more slowly, I maneuver around, getting the hang of steering this thing. A few trips up and down the hallway towards the elevator and back makes me realize I need to keep a closer eye on the clearance around the big wheels. It's a little too easy to make a mistake if I'm not careful of them. On my last trip back to the living room, I find Ido standing next to Alita, hands on his hips.

One corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile he asks, "So, how's it working out?"

I pull up to a stop about a meter from him. "Not bad. Most of the problems seem to be operator error, but I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"Excellent," he says, "then let's get you moved."

I glance back and forth between him and Alita, "Um, okay. Moved where?"

"I need to free up the Recovery room, and since you'll be staying a while, I think it's time you got better accomodations. I'm moving you to an empty guest room upstairs."

"I can grab his stuff out of Recovery," Alita says before heading off in that direction.

Ido steps around me and begins walking away, "Follow me."

Caught a bit off-guard by this sudden change in direction, I follow. "Uh, okay." This doesn't feel right. 'I'm a patient. Shouldn't I stay down here in the clinic?'

He leads me to a hall closet, out of which he grabs a couple sheets, a blanket and pillow. Then he sets them on my lap. After that, we head up in the elevator to the second floor and he leads me down the hall towards the empty guest room that I'd seen earlier.

Once inside, Ido has me help move the boxes out into the hallway, carrying the smaller ones on my lap. As it is, I'm unable to safely navigate doorways with any speed, so I'm quickly relegated to just staying out of the way. Alita returns and gives Ido a hand with clearing out the rest of the room until only the bed and a single nightstand and small dresser remains, while I sit off to the side, feeling a little dejected.

"There," Ido says, surveying the room, "that should do it."

Alita turns to me and says cheerily, "Being able to see the outside might help with your depression, too."

I give her a slight shrug, "Yeah, I think so."

Ido walks over to stand in front of me, looking down at me with a stern expression, "Now, I'm trusting you not to do something that will make me regret this, understood?"

With a firm nod, I look him in the eyes and say, "Understood." I glance around the room, a little bewildered at this sudden change in my circumstances. Out of reflex I mentally retreat a little, trying to keep myself distant from my situation while I try to adjust to this new development.

Ido goes on to inform me that Gerhad will no longer be staying overnight.

"So keep that in mind. You'll need to be more willing to approach me if you need anything, alright?" he says in gentle admonishment.

Only now do I realize that I've shown a propensity for not asking him for help, even going so far as to wait until Gerhad's available before revealing any minor problems. Something I'll have to work on, I think.

He also lets me know of the bathroom down the hall, near the study, where I can get a shower if I want.

"I would love to," I tell him, more than ready for a change from wash cloths and a basin of luke-warm water. "Are there any precautions I need to take if I'm gonna shower with, uh-" I raise the remains of my left arm to show off the cybernetic mounting on the end of it.

"It'll be fine," he reassures me, "Anything that might get damaged by water, is sealed against that sort of thing. You could completely submerge it and it won't have a problem. Head on over and I'll send Gerhad along to get you taken care of, I want to run those tests before the Sheffield's show up."

After being given a stack of clean towels and wash cloths, I make my way into the upstairs bathroom. It takes a couple tries to get through the door without taking a piece of the doorjamb off, but I manage to keep my temper in check, despite growing frustration. Not long after I get in and place the stack of towels and washcloths on the sink counter, Gerhad arrives, having finished with her current patients.

I quickly learn that simply showering as an amputee is complicated, troublesome and at times frustrating. I had assumed I could just hop in, sit on the floor of the shower and go. However, Gerhad reminds me that with only one arm, my capabilities are going to be very limited. Memories return of Vanessa's time as a nurse, and the stories of when she dealt with the occasional amputee.

For starters, there'll be no sitting on the floor of the shower. Gerhad helps me up onto a low, plastic chair and gets me out of the gown, leaving me with nothing but a washcloth to cover myself. In the course of her duties, she has seen me nude before, but I still find myself feeling awkward and selfconscious. Being the professional that she is, she is completely unfazed. As she told me the first time, "You don't have anything I haven't seen before a hundred times over."

After she turns the water on low, she then begins washing me, much to my dismay. I had really hoped I would have the shower to myself, just me, the warm water and the chance to just relax. But only having one arm means there's much of my own body I can't wash. Despite my disappointment with the situation, as well as the frustrations it engenders, I find myself enjoying the feel of warm water washing over me. However, my complaints won't remain unvoiced.

"Could I at least take care of what little I can reach?" I ask.

"You can let me get this done, is what you can do," she replies in the no-nonsense tone of nursely authority. "Now, arms up."

I stifle a sigh and manage to be quiet for all of three seconds. "Are you really going to be washing me the entire time I'm here? I'm a grown man, for Pete's sake."

"A grown man who's going to have to learn that, until doctor Ido gets your cybernetics working you've got a lot more limitations now. You can start doing more on your own after this but for this first time, I'm also making a last check for any problems we might have missed otherwise," she says firmly. "So, stop arguing and let me work. Or I'll call Alita in here to help me."

My brows come down as I look at her askance, "What, seriously?"

She merely raises her eyebrows at me slightly while giving me a firm look, lips pressed together into a straight line.

I don't bother stifling a sigh of annoyance and roll my eyes, but I remain silent while she continues to scrub down my back. She does allow me to wash my own hair, at least.

After several minutes, I finally work up the nerve to have a closer look at the cybernetics on the ends of my residual limbs. It's the first time I've actually focused my attention on them. Up to now, I'd kept a kind of mental distance, never looking too closely at them.

I run a finger along the seam of my right thigh implant, where the metal meets the flesh. I'd sort of expected to have some kind of reaction, but not as strong as the one I get. My stomach lurches at the sight of my flesh ending so abruptly, the feel of my skin giving way so suddenly to the unfeeling implant. I stare at it for a moment, mesmerized by this alien thing that's replaced this part of my upper leg. 'I used to have a leg there,' I think in a daze, 'I used to have legs.' There are times when that thought just won't stop echoing in my head.

I lift my hand up to the implant on the end of what's left of my arm, feeling the dead metal that now sits there. The air starts to thicken as my lungs have to work to pull in breath. The world starts spinning around and this suffocating, trapped feeling comes over me. I fight to pull in breath as my chest constricts. I close my eyes and straighten up, trying to pull in as much air as I can, but it never feels like enough.

"You doing alright?" I hear Gerhad ask.

"Yeah. I just, uh..." deep breath, trying to expand lungs that feel like they're bound in bungie cords, "just need a minute."

After a few heartbeats, Gerhad softly asks over the sound of the shower, "You haven't really looked at them too closely, have you?"

I open my eyes and shake my head, keeping my breathing regular.

"Believe me, it'll help once there are new limbs in place." She holds up her left arm, the cybernetic, at about chest height, "Having capacity restored makes a big difference. You might even have a little more capability than you did." Resting her cyber-hand lightly on my shoulder, she smiles lightly, "Give Ido a chance to find a solution, alright? Don't go giving up hope just yet."

The hoplessness fades only a little, but it does ease up. I nod to her as I feel hot tears well up in my eyes to mix with the water running down my face. I stare down at the stumps of my legs and ask, "What the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"We'll figure something out. Don't worry, we're not about to just abandon you."

I close my eyes as my shoulders shake with silent sobs. The pain isn't nearly as bad this time, and it passes surprisingly quickly.

Gerhad passes the remainder of the time cleaning me up by telling me about some details concerning my cybernetics. For instance, the difference between organic red blood, that they call heart's blood and the blue cyber-blood with is filled with a form of nano-tech that helps maintain the cybernetic systems while also acting as part of the interface between the cyberware and my meat body. Normally the cyber-blood uses nano-tech 'cells' to interface with my organic body in a host of ways, including collecting bio-electricity, carrying it into the cybernetic much the way human blood cells work. However, since mine doesn't seem to be getting any energy, it's running off of a tiny internal power cell that's only supposed to augment regular power usage during times of heavy exertion and get recharged while I'm asleep or at rest.

Apparently, when the actual limbs are attached, they'll come with expansions to these systems to accomodate the extra machinery. Despite my trying to keep up with her explanation, I find myself getting just a little glassy-eyed. Her explanation does seem to serve it's primary purpose just fine, however; keeping my mind focused elsewhere.

After we're done, Gerhad shuts down the water and begins helping me towel off. Like the washcloths, this takes three, for sanitary reasons. One for the head and upper body, one for the middle body and one for the lower body. After this, I'll likely be back to normal, everyday towel usage, since I'm pretty much fully healed. This consideration brings up a question.

"I've been wondering about something," I say to her.

"Oh? What's that?"

"These sorts of injuries should have taken weeks to heal. Instead it only took days." I hold up my hand and waggle my fingers, "There's also been no sign of arthritic pain in my joints. Probably another stupid question, but how'd you manage that?" I'm expecting the answer to be something like medical nanites or some such.

She gives me an odd look, probably not expecting me to be so ignorant on the subject, but explains, "We administer drugs that speed up the body's natural regenerative properties. Most of the heavy lifting was done by medical nano-tech that was in the IV solutions we gave you, combined with a nutrient-dense solution to help feed your body during the process."

"Seems like that would be kind of expensive."

"It is, but we don't have to do it very often. Most of our patients that come in just require repairs, readjustment or replacements. Few of them need to have cyberware installed into an organic body the way you did when you first came in."

There's a knock at the door and I cover myself with the towel as Gerhad answers it.

Standing on the other side of the door is the now-familiar blurry figure of Alita.

She explains, "Jason, Ido's giving you a set of his old clothes, since the two of you are about the same size and build."

I stare up at the young cyborg, a little owl-eyed. "Well, that's awfully nice of him." Now I just feel worse guilt over taking up space in their home, using up expensive resources. On top of all that, the man's giving me the shirt off his back, as it were. I sure as hell haven't done anything to deserve any of it.

Gerhad takes the clothes from Alita and asks her, "Could you let him know we'll be down shortly?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, hun."

Alita disappears from sight and the footfalls of her short boots head off in the direction of the stairway at the opposite end of the hallway from the elevator.

Gerhad finishes drying me off, before helping me into the clothes, with some difficulty. A nice, if worn, pair of slacks and a button up, long-sleeve shirt. As she's fastening the last of the buttons, flashes of memory come to me. Vanessa, helping me dress as we got ready to go out for a date.

Heartache and grief begin to overwhelm me again. I screw my eyes shut tightly as I slowly shake my head back and forth, fighting to keep control. 'Can't this be over, already?'

As my shoulders begin shaking, I choke out, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," she tells me. "It's alright." She puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to her, holding me against her shoulder while I quietly cry myself out again. Thankfully, it doesn't take that long. When it's over, I gently push myself away from her.

"Sorry," I quietly mutter.

She gently squeezes my shoulder before letting go, "Don't worry 'bout it." After giving me a few seconds, she says, "Come on, we have to go. Ido's waiting on us."

I lean back and pull in a deep breath, collecting myself and nod to her. "Yeah, alright."

She helps me back into the wheelchair and we head downstairs. When we get to the OR, I thank Ido for the clothes.

"You're quite welcome," he says jovially, while attaching test leads to my cyberware. "How do they feel?"

Tugging at the rolled up pants leg, I say, "The pants are fine. Shirt's a little tight around the shoulders, but it's fine otherwise."

"You are a little broader in the shoulders than doctor Ido," Gerhad observes.

A seriousness comes over the doctor as he glances up from his work, at me, "How are you feeling?"

"Ah, well..." I pause to collect my thoughts, "okay, I guess." I glower at the implant on the end of what's left of my arm to avoid looking at him.

Ido grunts and nods. "It would no doubt help greatly if I could just get your cybernetics working." It might be my imagination, but I can almost hear a note of self-recrimination in his voice.

The remainder of the tests pass quickly and quietly. The results are the same as before. The cyberware is fine. It's just not recognizing the fact that it's hooked up to a living body. Afterwards, I retreat to my new room and sit, staring out the window for a bit, wanting to just get away from everyone and everything and having no need to be anywhere. Gerhad comes in to check on me a couple of times. I do my best to be polite, but I'm just not in the mood for company, and I don't feel the need to be inflicting myself on others right now.

Lunchtime comes and goes, Gerhad bringing me a sandwich and drink. I manage to eat about half of it, despite no real interest in food. Before long, I'm called downstairs. The Sheffield's have arrived.

When I get down, I find Henry, Loretta and Natira all standing in a small group talking with Ido, Gerhad and Alita.

Upon seeing me, Loretta breaks away from the group and jogs over to me. When she gets here, she leans down and wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I return the hug just as tightly, if a bit awkwardly. When she pulls away, I'm surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"Good to see you again," she says, beaming while wiping the tears away with the back of one hand. "How're you holding up?"

I feel a broad smile form, seeing the three of them again almost feels like being home. "Hey, kiddo. I'm doin' alright. It's good to see ya."

The rest of the group makes their way over, and Natira is the next to greet me. She leans down to hug me just as tightly as Loretta did, if more briefly, and gives me a firm kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

"Hello," she says, smiling faintly.

"Hi," I say back to her. Even looking as tired and worn as she does, she's still beautiful. Although I don't feel it, as is often the case, the expressions on some of the others in the room tells me that I may have gone a little red after her kiss. I glance downward in mild embarrassment, but look back up at her as she briefly clasps my hand for a single squeeze before releasing it.

Henry steps up at last, grinning broadly, he leans down to clasp my hand with both of his for two firm handshakes. I feel a twinge as I watch my own flesh and blood hand, frail in comparison to his sturdier cybernetics, disappear in his grip. I do my best to hide my reaction, but it's disheartening to know that the attack did more than change the way I look. It changed the way I react to people, at least a little bit. Even when I first met him, I had never felt that kind of fear from just shaking hands with the man.

This close, it's pretty evident that Henry's also looking rather worn down. Likely a sign that things aren't going too well on the farm.

"Hey, Jason," he says before releasing my hand and straightening up. Gesturing with a thumb over the shoulder towards Ido, he says to me, "Doc Ido was tellin' us you got some kind of neurological disorder that he's never seen before. I'm really sorry to hear that."

I glance over at doctor Ido, standing just behind Henry, "Yeah, it's somethin', alright. But he's been hard at work on it. They're hopeful that some kind of solution will show up."

"I'm guessing you're not?" Natira asks me.

With a light shrug, I answer, "Considering it's like nothin' he's ever seen before, let's just say, I'm gonna wait and see."

Henry nods, a look of understanding crossing his weathered features. "Well, anyway," He looks down at his feet as he shifts, looking uncomfortable, "we really miss havin' you around. But, I got some bad news that I thought you should hear in person..." he pauses to clear his throat. "I'm afraid with the way things have been going, I just couldn't afford to keep a spot open when we're short-handed as it is." He looks up at me from under his brows, lips pressed together in a thin line.

This is pretty much what I'd been expecting. It still hurts to realize that I've just lost both my only home, and my job at the same time. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod, "Well, I sorta figured that would have to happen."

"Maybe so," he says earnestly, "but I still wish I could've kept a place for you." His voice becomes pained, "I'm really sorry, Jason-"

I put my hand up, interrupting him, "It's alright."

"No, it's not!" Loretta says angrily. "After everything that's happened, you don't deserve this."

Her father looks over at her and says, with audible hurt, "Loretta-" I'm gathering that the two of them may have argued about this.

"Hey!" I say to Loretta loudly, letting some of my own anger strengthen my voice. When they turn their attention to me, I'm careful to make sure I've got a tight reign on the pain and anger that's threatening to well up inside me. I take a quick breath before going on in a gentler tone, "You and you're father have been fightin' to hold onto that place since before I ever came along. You need to do what it takes to make sure you don't lose it." I push down on the awful hurt that tries to rise up as I continue, "I'm not gonna be any help to you in my condition, and you can't afford to wait for me. That means hiring someone who can do what you need done." I hold her gaze, hoping she sees the logic, hoping she won't blame her father for any of this. Or herself. Neither of them deserve that.

Hugging her arms to herself, she relents with a silent nod. She looks close to tears, mirroring how I'm feeling right now. Alita puts a hand on Loretta's shoulder, giving her a sympathetic look. Loretta offers her a faint smile in return, lightly patting the fingers of Alita's hand.

Into the silence that follows, Natira says to me, "We brought your footlocker and all your things." She gestures towards Henry, "The last of your pay's in there, too."

"Hopefully, it'll help out a little," Henry adds. "Just sorry it couldn't be more."

I wave off his concerns, "I'm sure it'll be fine. I'm grateful for whatever you can spare, especially since I still need to pay doctor Ido back for what he's done for me. But, enough about all that. How's the new hire workin' out?" I try to sound conversational, hoping to ease the tension that's suddenly filled the air.

It seems to work, because talk turns to what's been happening on the farm with this new guy. Apparently he's a younger man with no cyberware, down on his luck and seems eager to prove himself.

"So far, he's doing alright," Loretta says, "but he's got some big boots to fill." Her smile drops away and she almost looks stricken as her gaze flits to, and away from, the stumps of my legs.

I nod, ignoring her reaction and attempt to push on, "Well, hopefully he'll prove better than the guy I replaced." Taking on a more off-handed tone, I ask, "Oh! He's not driving Axel up the wall, is he?"

Natira answers, "Haven't heard any complaints yet."

Conversation goes on for some minutes more as we discuss less important matters and happenings, with doctor Ido taking the time to visit with the guests as well. Soon, more patients arrive and it's time to part ways. There's one last hand-shake from Henry and farewell hugs from Loretta and Natira. Natira's embrace lasts longer this time, something about it lending a certain finality to her goodbye.

As he heads for the door, Henry turns to Ido, "Thanks for taking care of him, Doc."

"Absolutely," Ido says as he walks them to the front door, "Rest assured, I'm going to do everything I can to get him walking again."

There's one last wave goodbye, and they're out the door. As Ido and Gerhad head off to tend to the new patients, I sit and stare at the door the Sheffield's and Natira just left through. I'd tried to be prepared for this, but it still hurts. Even though I try not to, I can't help feeling abandoned as I watch them head back to their lives, while I'm stuck here.

"Come on," I hear Alita say from nearby, "I'll carry your footlocker up to your room."

Glancing over at her, I nod, "Thank you."

Once up in my new room, she sets the locker down at the foot of the bed, then turns to me.

"Well, anything else you need?" she asks.

I stare at my footlocker blankly for a moment, before my brain finally engages, "Um... no, no, I don't think I need anything." I rub at my eyes, trying to ease the irritated feeling that's beset them. Everything feels so heavy. "Thank you."

"Sure thing." She pauses for a moment, then comments in a light-hearted tone, "That woman, Natira, certainly seems to like you."

It's so difficult, keeping my focus, "Uh, yeah. I guess so." I go back to staring blankly at my footlocker.

"Why do you say that?" Faint furrows form on her forehead, "You don't find her attractive?"

I finally manage to tear my eyes away from the locker as I fight to refocus my attention, "I find her very attractive. I just don't see that going anywhere." Annoyed at her insistence on talking to me when I'd just as soon be alone, I ask, "Why does any of that matter?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she says, "It seems like that would be a good thing, having someone who cares about you like that. You don't think so?"

A short sigh escapes me, "I kept my focus on work. I just didn't see the point in anything else. And now..." I gesture vaguely at nothing in particular.

She clasps her hands behind her back and wanders over towards the window, "Now, what? You don't feel she could care about you because of what happened to you?"

Clearly, she's not going to be leaving soon. I hold down a sudden spark of anger, "More like, she can't afford to." I'm trying not to lose my patience, but I'm really wishing I could be alone.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she's already got her hands full just taking care of herself." Despite my effort to control it, a hint of anger begins seeping into my voice, "Not to mention she's got a family here in Iron City that she's trying to help move out of a pretty bad neighborhood. Even if she weren't living out of a little room in that bunkhouse, she's got neither the time, nor the resources to be taking care of someone in my position. So, it's probably just as well that nothing ever happened between us." The feeling that she's going to somehow pass judgement on people just trying to survive only stokes that anger.

Silently, she stares out the window for a time before turning to me with an enigmatic expression, "Well, maybe some day that'll change." She gestures with one hand towards the door, "Come on."

I stifle an irritated, tired sigh, "I think I'll just stay-"

"Ido doesn't want you left alone for long," she says firmly. "Not for the next couple of days, anyway." She gestures at the door again, "So, come on." The look she gives me makes it clear I don't have any say in the matter.

I look at both her and the door, trying to think of something to say that'll get her to leave me alone. But I already know there's nothing I can say. Finally, I relent. "Alright," I say to her wearily. I maneuver the wheelchair towards the hall.

As we head for the elevator, she says, "We still have other things that need to be dealt with, such as your lack of ID. We need to somehow get you one without going through the Factory. I'll introduce you to my friend, Koyomi. I think she might know some people that could help with that."

I pause and turn to look back at her. "What, you mean like some kind of forgery?" I ask, a little shocked at the implication.

Putting her hands on her hips, she responds steadfastly, "It'll probably have to be. You heard Ido. You can't go through regular channels, especially if their sensors can't even scan you properly. That'll just set off alarms."

We get to the elevator and I look up at her, doubtfully, "Isn't that going to be expensive? And dangerous?"

Shrugging it off, she responds breezily, "Money isn't a problem, and I think we can manage the risks involved."

I feel like I should argue, but I can't summon the energy to do so. Instead, I decide it's better to stop asking questions and just go along with it. I'll just have to trust that these people know what they're doing. It is their world, after all.