I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone for your reviews last chapter, it really blew me away. Guess I should write horrible depictions of gratuitous violence more often, huh?
Sorry for the wait on this one. I had a lot more difficulty getting this to come together than I expected.
Chapter 17: Medical Marvel
I wake up to a room that…
Huh.
I wake up.
I didn't expect that, honestly. When I passed out it definitely felt like a… final moments sort of deal. I…
I'm alive.
Wow.
Okay.
I've woken up to a room that is pretty much coated from wall to wall with white pelts, probably from foxes and rabbits. Together with the open window facing out into a bright sunny day this place is bright, warm and delightfully soft looking. I kinda want to rub my face on the walls.
What the fuck do they have me on right now?
Who the fuck is 'they'?
Where am I?
"I have questions." I croak out, staring blankly at the wall. I hear a startled gasp and a loud clatter, and turn to see a nurse, who looks to have dropped an ornate healing staff on the ground in favor of staring at me in shock. "Hi."
The nurse doesn't respond to my greeting, instead rushing out of the room yelling for a doctor. That's… uhh… Yeah that's not encouraging.
"I guess I have several more questions now." I mutter, laying my head back.
I spend the next several hours being swarmed by medical personnel, and while they're not the best at answering my questions, they're very good at talking to each other. I probably glean a great deal more from this than I would have if I'd just asked questions, so this is a good thing.
The most important bit of information: I've been asleep for two weeks.
In a world that has not yet invented the IV drip, this is supremely fucking critical.
As a general rule before the invention of the IV drip, there was no feasible way to give an unconscious person nutrients. Eating is something that requires user participation, so if you're unconscious the valve thingy in your throat stays strictly turned away from your stomach and towards the lungs. This happens because breathing is something the body can and does manage on its own, and it's considerably higher on the priority list over food.
Basically I'm trying to say that in a world with medieval technology coma patients have a habit of starving to death. Actually, scratch that, they usually die of dehydration long before they can even starve.
The solution to this? Well, until two weeks ago apparently there wasn't one.
And then a certain feisty redhead came riding in on a griffon with an emergency passenger, with strict instructions for the medical staff. Yeah, I guess Severa picked up some advanced healing tricks in the future, and threatened to take a sword to the doctors unless they shut up and used them. Which led to armed guards trying and failing to evict her. Which led to Flavia herself showing up and saying "screw it, give it a shot." I heard most of the story from one very bemused nurse during mealtime, and really wish I could have seen it.
Anyways, the solution that Severa's teacher (almost certainly future Lissa) came up with was using healing magic to fight the symptoms of dehydration. Simple explanation of dehydration: the body loses water, the cells start to dry up, and then all the vital bits on the inside begin dying. But if a healer knows this and knows where to look for signs, they can use magic to heal my systems as quickly as they're trying to shut down.
Humanity may have achieved a great many wonders in my time with technology, but magic can make for a damn fine substitute sometimes. That's as far as my thoughts go on this, because it's honestly kind of a mindfuck when I think about it too much.
Of course now that the magic is done with, I have to rely on the more mundane healing methods. Namely, eating properly and taking my damn medicine. Also the bandages, because good lord am I a mess of those.
Yeah, the fact that I survived two weeks without food or water is one thing, the fact that I survived the mess that put me in that coma is another entirely. I'm still missing a lot of details as to how Severa got me all the way to Gelida Dominus so quickly, and even foggier on how I survived a shaft of wood stuck through my chest.
Most of my body is healed already, the small cuts and scrapes having been closed up before they had to dedicate all their attention to my failing organs. Those that couldn't be handled in that way were basically bandaged and put on hold for a while. The chest needed the most work, obviously, and the healers are still wary of infection after everything that's happened. My arm actually did get infected for a bit while I was unconscious, but they apparently managed to keep that under control with… leeches.
Well, at least Leeches have actual proven medical benefits. Better than finding out they practise bloodletting around here. Pretty sure that isn't good for much of anything. Not sure how good leeches really are for infections, but this is a pre-antibiotic world, so I'll trust the experts to know the best methods.
The arm in question is going to take some time to heal properly. I had no less than four arrows stuck through it when Severa found me, plus another arrow which I tore out like a dumbass earlier that night. Tissue damage was pretty severe, though since they caught the infection the healers are confident it'll recover. It'll take another week before it's healed properly though.
And then there's my head injury. It was a pretty small wound, but they had to shave my head to access it for treatment.
…Yeah. We don't talk about the head injury.
Other than the tragic blow to my pride though, it looks like I'll be able to make a full physical recovery.
I don't like that I feel guilty about that.
My awakening the next morning is less than pleasant, which mostly comes down to the woman who orchestrates it. Apparently Khan Flavia is not a fan of bedside manners, because she bursts into my room at the crack of dawn, yells "RISE AND SHINE, SLEEPYHEAD!" and cracks me on the head with my medicine bottle.
I call her several unmentionable things before I finally recover enough to recognize who I'm talking to. Then I make a point of throwing in a couple more colorful bits of language, which only seems to impress her.
"Not bad at all!" Flavia grins as I finish my rant. "I'll have to write that down once this little discussion is over so I don't forget any of that."
"Consider it a diplomatic gift." I grimace, still rubbing my head. "A sign of peace and harmony between Ylisse and Regna Ferox."
"You're a shit, you know that?" Flavia laughs. "Probably the most disrespectful guy I've ever met."
"Huh." I stop and think on it. "You might be right." I used to have a filter, but the filter is also what kept me from getting violent over things that pissed me off. I guess when I started killing people I just peeled away a large part of what kept me respectable. "I'll have to work on that, I was considered very well-mannered back home."
"Eh, we tend not to care too much around here, but that's probably for the best. Those Ylissean nobles are a bunch of stuck-up ninnies who get bent out of shape over the dumbest bullshit you could ever imagine. It's a wonder the royal family came out of that the way they did." Flavia nods seriously as she pulls up a chair. "You'll have to learn how to act around them soon enough, working with the royal family like you are."
I nod thoughtfully as I reflect on her words. "You're absolutely right. Thanks for the advice."
"Don't mention it." Flavia waves a hand dismissively, then leans back. "So, down to business."
"What sort of business?" I reply cautiously.
"Oh, lots of things." Flavia crosses her arms and thinks. "Hard to say where I should start, honestly. Bad news first? Yeah, we'll do bad news first."
"There's bad news?"
"Considering what's been going on that shouldn't surprise you." Flavia snorts. "Anyways, where was I? Oh right. So, as much as it pains me to tell you this after everything you went through, it looks like a few of your fellow prisoners didn't make it out. A few of them were just too worn down to survive."
My thoughts immediately go to Noire and my heart plummets. "There was a girl I rescued from the cells near the back. Black hair, light as a feather…"
"Oh she's fine." Flavia shrugs, raising an eyebrow and taking my reaction in as I suffer mood whiplash. "Got attached to that one, did you? I suppose she'll be a pretty little thing once she's got some food in her. Anyways, she was in bad enough shape that we got a griffon to take her, same as you. The problem was all the people we couldn't do that with. We had carts brought in for them, but the cold got several of them on the way over."
"Couldn't we have brought them over to…" I stop. I did intend for the main building of the bandit camp to be used to house the prisoners while help came, but… "I suppose bringing everyone to the building would have done more harm than good."
"I could count the number of rooms that didn't have walls coated in blood on one hand." Flavia replies with a nod. "And one of those rooms had a strangled person in them. You did a hell of a job in there."
"'Hell' being the operative word, in this case." I reply dully, fixing my gaze out the window. "I don't remember what that building looked like when I was done in there, but I remember what I looked like at the end of it."
"Bad enough that I felt the need to come over and see for myself." Flavia nods again. "Haven't seen a man fight through an injury like that since Basilio."
"Basilio?" I look over at her questioningly. I never would have expected him to take such a heavy hit in a fight.
Luckily for me Flavia misinterprets my confusion. "He's just some asshole on the other end of the country. I might introduce you later."
"Huh." I nod, while internally berating myself for almost slipping up. Doesn't matter what I've been through or what state I'm in. My secrets are my secrets, and I cannot give them away. Nobody can know what I know.
"Anyways, my soldiers didn't want to take the prisoners into that, figured it might do them more harm than good. Understandable, really, it was miserable in there. That younger fellow who was with you guys, the kid with the broken arm? He led some soldiers in there to try to find some supplies, came out shaking like a leaf. My people say they weren't much better. Either way, they grabbed as many blankets as could be salvaged, along with a few other things, but in the end it was decided that the best thing to do was burn the damn place down. Bad luck to leave a building with so much death in it standing."
"Superstition." I scoff.
"Maybe so, but we already have corpses wandering around the countryside." Flavia replies flippantly. "Why tempt fate?"
"Fair enough." I concede the point with a sigh. "So, how did you get your people over to us when you did anyways? Must have been pretty soon after I broke out, or else I wouldn't be here."
"You can thank the redhead for that. I guess when the kid got caught she figured she couldn't take the camp on anymore, headed straight for the Longfort to get help. Two Ylisseans may be enough to take them all on, but one? Not a chance." She stops for a moment to laugh at that notion. "They had a pretty good perimeter set up, those slavers. Even with their griffons gone she figured she couldn't risk it. So she kicked everyone's asses into shape and led a nice big group of Feroxi soldiers in to clear the place out properly… just in time to see you fall over choking on blood."
"Thanks for reminding me." I deadpan, stomach flipping at the memory. I really did think I was about to die in her arms.
"She's rather attached to you, isn't she?"
"She said I remind her of an uncle she was close to." I reply.
"What do you know about her family?"
I open my mouth, ready to brush her off, but something in her tone makes me pause. I look back at Khan Flavia and see that while her body language is casual, her eyes have become sharp. I can't help but smirk. "I was wondering why I merited a visit from the Khan of Regna Ferox. You're interested in her, huh?"
"Am I that obvious?" Flavia chuckles, even as her shoulders grow tense. "She's something else, I admit. Beat my guards easily when she dumped your sorry ass here, carved through those slavers without so much as a scratch, knows healing techniques so revolutionary that the country's best are currently writing multiple papers on all that they learned from fixing you… And nobody knows anything about her. Can you blame me for being curious?"
"No, I suppose I can't." I frown. "I don't know much but I'm willing to tell you what I can, as long as you promise not to push things with her."
"I'll take what I can get." Flavia nods, relaxing a little now that she knows I'm willing to cooperate a bit.
"Alright. She was with a mercenary group, but I don't know the name of them. It was pretty large, and did well for itself, but they bit off more than they could chew. As far as I can tell, they're all dead. The adults, at least. I think they got attacked, and died getting the kids out. That girl with the black hair was with them as well."
"All of them died? You're sure?" Flavia leans forward intently.
"I know her mom's dead, and her dad… I think he's dead, but I can't say for sure." Though I have my suspicions…
"Huh." Flavia leans back and sighs. "That's a shame, I was hoping I might be able to recruit her if I tracked down her group… As it stands there's no chance of convincing her to work for me as long as she's attached to you."
"Sorry to disappoint." I give her a wry smile. "You'll just have to hope the Shepherds make it back in time for your little competition instead."
"You know about that?" Flavia looks down at me in surprise. "I didn't think anybody in Ylisse paid any damn attention to how we do things up here."
"I'm not sure they do anymore. The book I read it in was a dusty old pile of garbage." I shrug. "Between you and me, I think a lot of the nobles in Ylisse might be…" I look around conspiratorially before leaning in as though sharing some dark secret. "A bunch of self-centered assholes."
Flavia bursts out laughing at that, and gets to her feet. "For a piece of shit, you're alright, Ben. Your friends should be in to see you soon, so I think we'll end on that charming note."
She's halfway out the door when an important question crosses my mind. "How much time do the others have?" With everything that's happened I don't know how much time has passed.
Flavia stops, and flashes me a grin over her shoulder. "The Shepherds? They've got twelve days left. Best hope for Ylisse's sake that they're finishing up, or else they won't make it back in time."
Since I'm still healing my discussion with Flavia is enough to wear me out completely. I spend most of the rest of the day drifting in and out of sleep, waking only for checkups and food, which is about as bland as hospital food back home. They give me apple sauce with my dinner and the sweetness of it is enough to bring me to tears. After so many weeks of gruel and rabbit guts… yeah, it's a bit overwhelming.
By next morning it's decided that I'm well enough to be allowed to walk to the privy, which is appreciated because my dignity is in short supply these days. The trip is exhausting enough that I sleep like a rock afterwards, but the healers want me to start getting my strength back as soon as possible. Apparently Donnel stopped by to visit while I was asleep, but I sleep right through it, so the nurse just informs me about it during dinner.
The next few days are pretty much the same. I eat lots of bland, healthy food, take medicines to help with the shit I was exposed to living right above a pit of human excrement, and sleep. There are good signs to be had though. Bathroom trips get increasingly easier as my legs readjust to use, and I find myself sleeping for shorter periods of time.
The bad news is that my sleep becomes decidedly less deep as I recover.
I bring down my axe.
Ezra twists beneath me and my blade cuts another deep furrow into his shoulder. He screams, trying to move away, but he has one usable limb and it no longer has the strength to take him anywhere. The most he can manage is to thrash about like a worm, as he bleeds out onto the floor.
I bring down my axe.
Ezra tries to move again, but he's too weak to dodge properly. My blow cracks his ribs, though it lacks the power to cleave through him. He groans as I pull free, gasping for air and babbling wordlessly. I shake gristle from the blade.
I bring down my axe.
This time Ezra finds the strength to twist aside completely, and my blade slams into the stone floor. A chip of stone flies up and cuts a neat line through my cheek, causing me to recoil. I lean back and lock eyes with the doctor, eyes hollow as he faces me, brains still slowly pooling around his head. A dead man. Unimportant. I've finished with that one already.
I bring down my axe.
Ezra is still lying on his side, and my blow tears flesh from his back. I see bone exposed beneath me. Ezra attempts to scream again, but can only manage a choked off, keening wail. I catch a whiff of ammonia, but after the time spent in my cell I'm largely used to it by now.
Ezra refuses to die easily, to his detriment. His limbs are shredded or removed. His body is broken and covered with massive, bloody wounds. He can't manage a scream for all the sobbing he's doing. If he were to simply stop dodging his pain would have ended a long time ago, but he won't stop squirming around. Not that I feel he deserves a quick death.
I bring down my axe.
"Mister Benjamin?"
I look up as my visitor makes himself heard and immediately force myself to smile warmly. "Donny, hey!"
"Are you alright Mister Benjamin? You didn't seem to notice me come in?" Donnel's eyes are full of so much concern I worry they might burst.
"Just lost in thought." I shrug, carefully holding my hands flat against my stomach so they can't clench. "Not much else to do here. Sorry I slept through your visit the other day."
"Oh, that's nothing you need to be feeling sorry for!" Donnel smiles. "I reckon you need all the rest you can get after what happened."
"I reckon you're right." I chuckle, looking the kid over. "How about you, how are you healing up?"
Donnel flinches, eying his left arm uneasily. "Well as I can be, I reckon…"
"You sure?" I sit up as I hear his tone. "Because you don't sound sure."
Donnel gives me a look like a deer in the headlights. "Oh gosh, it's nothing you need to be worrying about, Mister Benjamin! I don't want you fussing over me none when you've got yourself to be fussing over already!"
"Donnel." I give him a look. My best 'I see through your bullshit' look, to be precise.
The kid doesn't stand a chance. "Oh, alright then, I guess I'll come clean…" Donnel looks back down at his arm and then back up at me. "I uhh… I don't seem to be healing very well at all. Healers took too long to get to me, so they reckon there'll be some… permanent damage."
"What?" I reel in alarm. "What kind of damage, what happened?"
"I don't rightly know for sure, honest!" Donnel flinches as he realizes I'm starting to panic. "They said it's a possibility, is all! Since I just recovered from breaking my arm back at that there Longfort, breaking it again was a whole mess of bad news. And it was about a week before they could get a proper healing staff to work on it…"
"A week? A FUCKING WEEK? WHAT THE HELL?" I roar in outrage. "HOW DID IT TAKE THEM A FUCKING WEEK TO-" My chest goes tight as my lungs protest the sudden exertion, and I fall back coughing. Donnel grabs the water jug next to my bed and pours me a cup, which I gratefully take.
A nurse comes running in a moment later, likely having heard me yelling. "What's going on, is everything alright in here?" She asks, looking slightly panicked.
"Why the-" I gasp for a moment, lungs still straining. "Ah shit, hell. Why… Why the FUCK did Donnel have to wait a fucking WEEK-" I gesture in the kid's direction while I catch my breath. "A whole fucking week with a broken arm before anyone helped him?"
The nurse blinks, then looks over at Donnel in horror. "He- you- what!? I, I don't understand, what happened?"
Donnel surprises me at this point by getting to his feet and pushing me firmly back into bed. "Now listen here Mister Benjamin, don't you go taking it out on the people looking after you! I didn't arrive here until after I was already treated, they had nothing to do with it!"
"Well where the hell were you treated then? Whose ass do I have to kick?" I growl, even as he holds me steady.
"I was treated at the Longfort, and I won't have you giving them any grief, you hear?" Donnel says sternly. "Them healers had their hands full treating all the people that was dying, and I wasn't about to let them stop saving lives just for my sake. I was in better shape than anyone else there, so I darn well waited my turn!"
I feel myself deflate at his logic. "But… your arm. You broke it saving our lives, and now it won't even heal properly?"
"I'll make do." Donnel says calmly, taking his seat now that he can tell I won't flip out anymore. "They reckon I'll be getting pain from it the rest of my life, but I can use it. Might not be able to use a spear no more, but that's a small price to pay. I can still fight with my good arm, I reckon."
I sigh, feeling defeated. "It doesn't seem right, but if that's how you feel…" I can only shrug helplessly at that point. "You know, you're a hell of a guy, Donny."
Behind Donnel the nurse gives Donnel a starry eyed look and nods in agreement, though she still looks rather confused about what we're talking about. The kid doesn't even notice. It gets me chuckling, which causes the nurse to flush a cute pink and leave the room. I can only laugh all the harder, while Donnel looks at me in confusion.
When Donnel visits me again the next day he brings Noire along, who spends the whole visit looking like she wants to hug me and isn't sure if it's appropriate. A part of me is tempted to just welcome it, but my ribs are still tender from the whole 'getting shattered' thing.
Noire's only been out of her own hospital bed for a week or so, since she was so badly malnourished. I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that the only person who was in worse shape than her was my perforated ass. She's healing up nicely though, starting to regain some of the weight she lost while locked up.
Unfortunately since Donnel is there I can't ask her too much related to temporal shenanigans or her cover story with Severa, but it's good to see her well all the same.
Another day later and the doctors decide I'm well enough to be allowed to leave the infirmary, though I'm given a strict diet plan and orders to return in a week for a follow-up examination. I'm given a pair of crutches to hobble around on, and make my way through the castle to the Shepherd's accommodations, which Flavia was kind enough to keep set aside for us.
Noire and Donnel hover around me the whole way, arms ready to catch me if I stumble. It's a little obnoxious, honestly, though there's a part of me that can't help but find it endearing. I know I was impaled not long ago, but it feels backwards having these kids fussing over me.
Well, let them have their moment. I'm sure before long the tables will be turned again. Feels like all I've done since arriving here is training, getting my ass handed to me, and looking after teenagers.
"Well, here we are! Home sweet home!" Noire announces as she grabs the door for me. The common room already has a fire going, filling the room with warmth.
"Must be real nice getting out of that bed, don't you think Mister Benjamin?" Donnel asks eagerly as he tails me inside.
"It's a welcome change of pace." I grunt, making my way over to one of the sofas. "Or should I say, it was." I collapse into my seat with a relieved groan. "Still not recovered enough to be walking so much."
"Is it your breathing?" Noire frets, rushing over in concern.
"A little bit, but it's mostly just plain old muscular atrophy." I reply. The two give me blank looks in response and I realize the term isn't really something they're familiar with. "Muscles grow weaker if you don't use them enough. Guess I pushed it too far sleeping as long as I did. The fact that I went so long without eating probably sped it up too."
"I thought the healing was supposed to stop that from happening though!"
Noire looks about ready to have a panic attack at this point, with Donnel now unsure which of us he should be fretting over. I decide to throw him a bone before addressing Noire. "You mind getting some water here, Donny? Appreciate it."
"Uhh… right! I'll have it over in a jiff, Mister Benjamin." Donnel snaps a salute and rushes off.
With him occupied I turn back to Noire. "Noire, I'm fine, seriously. This is nothing unusual for situations like this. I just need to work at it for a while."
"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PLACATE ME WITH IDLE PRATTLE, FOOL! I WILL NOT-" Noire's tirade cuts off as she bursts into a coughing fit. "You- you should be- ah!"
Donnel rushes over with a pitcher, no doubt left for us by the castle maids. He motions as if to hand her the cup, but seeing the way her body is jolting with the coughing fit, opts to hold the cup for her instead. "Easy now, easy, small sips. Don't go biting off more than you can chew, alrighty? You'll be right as rain in no time, y'hear?" He rubs soothing circles on Noire's back as she recover.
"You got her, Donnel?" I ask.
"Don't you worry Mister Benjamin, I've seen her have a few of these spells before. She's still recovering, just the same as you are." Donnel smiles brightly at me. "Them fancy healer folk taught me and Severa a trick or two for this!"
Well. I feel useless. Noire does seem to be calming down though, so I leave it to Donnel and pour some water for myself.
"What the heck's going on in here?" I turn at the sound of a familiar voice and see Severa standing in the doorway, a bundle of some sort wrapped under her arm. "What's wrong with Noire?"
"Just a bit of a coughing spell, like them healers said would be happening." Donnel replies. "Nothing for you to be fretting about, Miss Severa!"
"Ah, geez." Severa runs a hand through her hair in a motion that strikes me as rather familiar. "You know you're not supposed to get worked up right now, Noire! What happened?"
"She's getting worked up over my condition." I reply. Severa jolts, looking at me as though she just noticed I'm here. I raise an arm in greeting. "Hey. Long time no see."
Severa's face visibly pales. Oh right, last time I saw her was when I was literally DYING IN HER FUCKING ARMS.
Wow. Why the FUCK did I say that? Fucking dangers of constantly trying to play it cool no matter how fucking horrible life is, you come off as an emotionless piece of shit.
"Can we just forget I said that please?" I say with a grimace. I catch Donnel's eye and realize he's sending me the most flat, disapproving look I've ever seen from the kid. I shrink further in my seat.
"Okay." The two of us blink in surprise as Severa replies in a quiet voice. I look over and see her staring blankly at the ground. She's being way too accommodating here. Donnel is suddenly lost. No doubt the kid is wondering why she's letting me get away with my bullshit.
Ah, fuck. Time to be the adult.
"Nah, you know what, it's really not." I sigh, putting a hand to my head and trying not to wince at how my short hair feels against my skin. "That was stupid and thoughtless… shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry."
Severa looks back at me, expression filled with a whole lot of emotions I am really not equipped to unpack. Something tells me I'll have to take a crack at it anyways, a lot sooner than I'd like. "Okay." She says again, in the same quiet tone.
There's a long, very awkward pause. The room is completely silent, save for the crackling and popping of wood in the fireplace.
Noire jumps to her feet suddenly. "I'm feeling a bit w-worn out now, I think I'll be going to bed!"
"Uhh, right!" Donnel replies, "And… and I reckon, I should, uhh… Go… go… uhh… darnit! Go… see if there's… any news from the others? Yeah! Must be they'd send a message of some sort by now, right?"
"Right! So let's just… uhh…" Noire trails off for a moment, stumbling over her words. Then she abruptly rushes over to her bedroom and disappears.
Donnel looks at the door for a moment, then looks between Severa and I in a panic. "Well then… I guess… I… Err, uh… Oh donkey-spittle, forget it." He walks very quickly past Severa, looking somehow defeated.
It would all be very comical if I wasn't in the middle of this drama. As it stands it just serves to make me feel guilty. And… painfully apprehensive. From the look on Severa's face she feels the same, all the more reason this conversation has to happen. All the more reason I feel like I have to ask a question I'm not sure I'm ready to hear the answer to.
I open my mouth to say something, but the words aren't coming. I… don't think I can do this. I'd rather get shot again than have this conversation. Guess that cowardly side of me is still waiting and ready when it counts.
All the signs have been there. I need to talk to her about this. It's so fucking important that this discussion happens, more important than anything I've ever been through. If what I suspect is true…
The thought terrifies me enough that I tear my eyes away from her and stare blankly at the floor in silence.
Seconds drag on, then minutes… a part of my brain starts counting, as if mocking myself for my inability to speak. One cowardly fuck, two cowardly fucks, three cowardly fucks, four…
I swear a good ten minutes pass before Severa makes a sound. A gasping sort of sob. She starts walking across the room, heading for her room.
I can't tear my eyes from the floor. I hear her every footstep like a hammer in my fucking brain. I can't say a word. She detours around the couches, staying out of my field of vision.
I can't…
I can't let myself do this.
Severa reaches her door, raises her hand to the handle, and hesitates for a moment. No doubt she's sending me one last glance before she leaves.
My eyes do not leave the floor.
But my mouth finally fucking moves.
"Severa, am I your dad?"
Welp.
Later.
