My head aches, pain throbbing through my right hand. I try to open my eyes and figure out what happened, but my eyelids are heavy and refuse to obey. The last thing I remember is being stuck in an elevator, but whether I was with Ken or Joe, I can't say. Images blur in my memory, lips against mine, hands on my body, voices professing love for me… I struggle to make sense of the visions, but it's no use. They remain stubbornly just out of my grasp.
I don't know how long I spend in this pursuit before I become aware of other sensations. I can feel fingers running along my cheeks, my chin, my brow. Someone is squeezing my hand, stroking my knuckles, tracing patterns against my palm. Wanting to find out who is with me, I am disappointed to find my lips as uncooperative as my eyelids.
As feeling fades again, I find myself floating in darkness. My thoughts drift, unable to settle on one thing, and once more images flash before me. Galactor soldiers, white wings, feather shuriken, explosions, a fist pounding on a door that stubbornly refuses to open…
Then, just as quickly as they left, the sensations of hands touching me return. This time though I think I can hear voices, but they're too soft to make out, more murmuring than real speech. About all that I can be sure of is that there are multiple and they are male.
With a newfound determination, I work to open my eyes and this time my efforts are rewarded. But the room is too bright and I immediately regret my success, squeezing my eyelids tightly closed again. Knowing what to expect this time, I try more slowly, but it still takes a few blinks to clear my vision. As everything begins to come into focus, I see that both Ken and Joe are here. They sit on either side of me, and despite their awkward poses, both are somehow asleep.
I'm surprised to find my right hand covered in bandages when I lift it to touch Ken. Curious, I slowly let it drop back to the bed before trying my left hand and am pleased to find it uninjured. Flexing my fingers in order to assure myself that they work, I am too distracted to realize that two sets of eyes are watching my movements. I start at the sound of Ken's voice whispering my name, my eyes automatically rising to his face. Before I can do more than return his smile, Joe calls to me and I find myself facing him.
I swallow, my mouth and throat feeling too dry and thick to speak. A straw is pressed against my lips and I suck at it greedily, the cool water soothing and hydrating. "Not so fast, Jun. Sip, don't gulp," Ken instructs. His voice is soft but a hint of command underlies it, reminding me that Gatchaman is never fully absent from Ken's personality. Squashing down a sudden rebellious urge to disobey him, I release the straw from between my lips.
"Thank you," I croak, my voice hoarse from disuse. "How long?" I ask as Ken places the cup back on the bedside table.
"It's not important, Jun," he deflects, not meeting my gaze.
I turn to Joe, hoping that he'll prove more amenable than Ken, but instead of answering my question, he asks one of his own.
"How're you feeling, Jun?" I can feel his deep voice rumbling through the mattress beneath me and I know that I won't be able to get either of them to satisfy my curiosity anytime soon.
"I'm not really sure," I begin. "It's hard to think and I feel a little disconnected from my body," I answer slowly, trying to find a way to put it into words. "It almost feels like I'm floating."
"Not surprising with the pain meds they have you on," Joe says quietly, his eyes never leaving my face. "Do you remember what happened?"
I look away, trying to recall anything, but there are just the briefest of images flashing through my mind and I can't make sense of them. The effort leaves me dizzy. "No," I whisper, closing my eyes and shaking my head slowly.
"It's OK, Jun. Don't push yourself," Ken soothes. I open my eyes in time to see the end of the glare he's aimed at Joe. "You need to rest," he continues, turning to face me again.
"But…" I begin, trying to sit up. My efforts are thwarted by Ken's stern look as Joe's gentle hand forces me back onto the pillows. I don't fight him, knowing that I don't have the strength. Before long, lethargy overtakes me and I drift into a dreamless sleep.