Dakota woke up slowly. It took him a moment to work up the nerve to open his eyes, anticipating bright sunlight. When he finally did, he was surprised by the ambient light showing that outside was still dark, or already dark, Dakota wasn't sure. What he was sure about was that he wasn't in his own room, and the surroundings were unfamiliar to him. Panic started to creep up his throat before he remembered the events before he fell asleep. Kara. Jericho. The demonstration by the camp. Carl's house. As his memory returned, Dakota began to calm down. The next thing he noticed was his leg. His left knee and calf had both been injured. He had healed them enough to function, but he was now paying the price of the stress he had put upon his leg. The entirety of it was throbbing in pain. Dakota gave a small groan of pain.

Just then the door to the bedroom opened and Markus walked in. "Ah, Dakota," he said. "You're awake. We were beginning to worry about you. How do you feel?"

"Like shit," Dakota responded groggily. His head was starting to ache as well. Great. Markus crossed over and put his head to the bedridden human's forehead, checking for a fever. "How long was I out?"

"Nineteen hours, twenty-seven minutes," came Markus' reply. Noting Dakota's discomfort, he turned to the nightstand and grabbed a glass of water and a bottle of over-the-counter pain relievers he had set out earlier. He could see Dakota struggling to figure out the time with his sleep-addled mind. "It is currently nine thirty-seven at night," Markus supplied, handing Dakota the water and the painkillers. "Here. It's not much, but it'll help." Dakota gratefully took the pill bottle, shook out a few capsules, and swallowed them down with several small sips of water.

Though the painkillers would not kick in for a while, the water helped to ease the throbbing in Dakota's leg and the aching of his head. He hated bedrest though. As soon as his head began clearing, he began to make himself more mobile and pulled off the covers. He was still in his clothes from the previous day. Markus gave a small gasp at the sight of Dakota's leg. Both pant legs were torn in several places and were stained in the blue blood of fallen androids and Dakota's own blood, now a crusted reddish brown. Two large holes were present where his injuries had occurred, and the skin was visible. Both injured sites were an angry purple mess, and his knee was extremely swollen. Dakota noted the condition of his leg and sighed. This was going to hurt.

With a grunt, Dakota swung his leg over the edge of the bed. He tried to stand up, but as soon as he put his weight on his wounded leg it collapsed beneath him. Markus caught him before he fell completely, and helped him sit back down on the bed.

"You should lay down," Markus told the wound man. "You need to let your leg heal."

Dakota only shook his head. "It'll be fine. I've healed from worse in less… forgiving conditions. Besides, there's too much to do." He looked down at his leg. "It'll just need to be braced, and I'll be good."

Markus left to retrieve a leg brace that the doctors had given Carl after the accident, before it became apparent that he would no longer have control of his legs. When he came back, the lamp on the nightstand was on, casting a warm glow around the room, and Dakota had a cane laid across his lap. It was a simple, straight rod about an inch thick, made of oak with an iron knobbed handle that tapered into the wood with Celtic braided details. Along the length of the wood were a number of symbols, similar to those that were on Dakota the previous night. Markus frowned in confusion. Dakota noticed his expression and smiled.

"I guess I should explain," he sighed. Markus walked over and started to fit the brace onto Dakota's leg. "In short, I'm a wizard," Dakota said, with no flair or dramatics to indicate a joke. Markus looked up at him, a disbelieving smirk on his face. But when he looked into Dakota's face and only saw sincerity, his expression sombered. "You're serious?"

"Absolutely. Remember when North was shot at Jericho?"

Markus inwardly grimaced at the memory. In that moment, it had seemed as though the one he had grown closest to was about to be ripped away from him. "Yes," he replied. He did his best to block out the emotions associated with that memory. While he had only deviated a week before, being a leader of such a huge movement had made him a quick learner in managing his emotions. Markus focused on what Dakota had done. "You… put yourself between her and the soldiers."

"And?" Dakota encouraged, trying to jog Markus's memory.

"And you stopped the bullets," Markus finished, his brows furrowing in confusion. Such a thing shouldn't be possible.

"Exactly." Dakota reached over to the nightstand and picked up his watch. He pointed to the various symbols on the worn leather bands. "These," he said, "are for a shield spell." He handed the watch to Markus, who curiously examined the timekeeping device. "My tattoos," Dakota continued, "were also magic. That's why most of them are gone now." Dakota smiled faintly. I could go on for hours about how it all works, but I don't think now is the time for that."

Markus stood up, now finished with fitting the brace to Dakota's leg. Dakota stood up slowly, leaning on his cane for support. Markus hovered around the injured man, ready to catch him if he fell. Dakota remained steady, however, and made his way out of the room. Walking was awkward, as he could no longer bend his knee, and had to walk with his left leg stiff.

"Where's North?" Dakota asked while descending the large staircase leading to the foyer of the house, noticing her absence.

"She returned to the church to help the others, though I suspect she will be back soon," Markus replied.

Almost as if on cue, the door to the main entrance opened and North slipped in. It seems as though she was trying to enter unnoticed, for she stopped with a look of surprise when she saw the other two.

"Markus, Dakota, hi," she stammered. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I just came to," Dakota replied. "How are things at the church?"

North's expression grew somber. "We're still counting our dead from the camps, and we're short on blue blood and biocomponents. Our wounded are beginning to shut down."

"Shit," Dakota breathed.

"Not only that, but because of the ceasefire more deviants have come out hiding," North continued. "They've been coming into the church throughout the day, and it's starting to get crowded there."

"So we've got to find a bigger place to stay," Dakota remarked.

"I, in fact, have a meeting with the mayor about deviant placement at ten thirty tomorrow morning."

"That helps with one problem," Dakota said. "As for the lack of parts, I can order some under my name and deliver them to you."

"But that won't work," North replied. "Cyberlife filed for bankruptcy this morning and the government had placed a ban on the selling of their products."

Dakota frowned, thinking. "Then it must be something to bring up to the mayor, Markus."

"I will make sure to bring it up," Markus said.

Dakota nodded approvingly and began walking. Markus moved to help him, but Dakota waved him off. "I'll be fine. Besides, you've got a lot to do."

Markus backed off, his hands up in mock surrender. "Kitchen is on the other side," he told Dakota. Dakota gave another nod of thanks and slowly made his way to the kitchen, while North and Markus went through a doorway in the other direction.

Dakota was famished. Using as much Power as he had, as well as healing from a shattered kneecap and a shrapnel injury, had consumed a lot of energy. As Dakota hobbled into the kitchen, he checked on the pantry and the fridge. Almost everything there required preparation, and Dakota had neither the energy nor the ability to cook in his current state. He did find several premade meals in the freezer and pulled out three of them. He heated them up in the microwave and ate them all in the kitchen, sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island. He finished quickly and threw the empty cartons in the trash. As much magic Dakota has, he was still subject to the limitations of the human body. After such injuries as the ones he had endured, the body requires a lot of rest, and Dakota was no exception. The simple walk down to the kitchen had left him exhausted, and so he hobbled back up the stairs to the guest bedroom, undid the brace on his leg, and promptly fell asleep again.