The space between life and death, existence and non-existence, was vast and lonely. The void seemed to continue for an eternity. I had no discernable senses; yet I was more aware than I had ever been. I was allowed to think, contemplate my life and how it had been shaped. I was far into it now, so far down the rabbithole that there was only two outcomes now: living as a shell; looking over my shoulder for my assassin to release me, or death, on my own terms. Jeet had to pay for what he did, killing my brother like an animal, but vengance did not stir. My brother was murdered and I lacked the desire for retribution. Something was wrong.
The world began to return. First, there were sounds, creaking and banging, like hearing them underwater. Then came the smells, damp and alcohol; seperate, but both as overpowering as the other. Then the light came, bursting through the cracks between my eyelids, the bright, artificial light, forcing my eyes to slowly open. At first I couldnt see anything, just streaks of light, which were almost celestial. Shapes around the room began to form, grey boxes dotted around the floor, and what appeared to be an open window, with a silhouetted figure perched on the windowledge. Lyra.
She was staring out the window with her brow furrowed, watching the transports streak through the ward. She still wore her bruises, so I could ascertain that the events in the hangar were still recent. She straddled the ledge, with her leg dangled carelessly over the side. She had in her hand a shotgun, clearly not perceiving the threat from Omega to be gone. I attempted to sit up but could not muster the strength. I tried to speak, but instead let out a low, pathetic groan. Lyra's attention quickly focused on me, she swung round off the ledge and hurried to my side. She leant over me, trying to look into my nearly-closed eyes. I wanted to greet her but could not find the words or the means to do so.
"Isaac?", she said, gently tapping my face. She looked away from me for a second and shouted, "Ed! He's waking up!"
I opened my eyes a little more and the room became much more clear. I was in a doctor's surgery, with medical instruments populating the tops of the grey boxes. Although, it didn't look like a sanctioned medbay, there was damp leaking from the walls and the medigel container looked as if it were torn from a wall. A man marched through the door, he was short and balding with a craggy face. He had grey and black stubble marring his wisened, old face. He looked down at me, concentrating. He shined a small torch into my eyes and grumbled. He walked over to the counter and picked up a needle. Upon his return, he shooed Lyra from my side, who retreated begrudgingly a few steps back. He shot the needle into my leg, telling me immediately that I could still feel pain. He lifted my shirt to check my side, and prodded the edge. I winced audibly with pain to which he smiled.
"Good", he said, before addressing Lyra, "He'll be fully awake in a few minutes. You can stay until he can walk, then you're out. Got it?"
"Yeah", Lyra replied, slightly subdued. "Thanks, Ed. I owe you one".
"Yeah", Ed said gruffly. "You do".
Ed walked out of the door, and Lyra pulled up a chair by my head. She sat down and looked into my face, brushing my hair back with her hand. Her face was still marked by trauma, but she was still as beautiful as ever. My eyes opened weakly, and I let out a soft murmur.
"Hey sweetie", she said softly. "How you feelin'?"
I could not answer right away, instead turning my head into her hand and beholding her face.
"Just great", I answered, with a dim sense of sarcasm. She smiled sweetly at me, and planted a divine kiss on my forehead. My eyes closed at the touch, pleasure streaked from the point of contact and made me feel alive. I opened my eyes once more, Lyra reached for the shotgun she had forgotten when I awoke. She eyed the door cautiously for a few seconds before looking back to me.
"I'm sorry about your brother", she said, abruptly. "I couldn't get to him in time".
"I just can't believe he's gone", I croaked softly. "He always looked out for me".
"I know", said Lyra, soothingly. "He was a good guy. You could tell he loved you more than anything".
"He was proud of you".
I thought deeply about my brother in a few moments silence, grieving his death and remembering his life. He was my hero, fought my corner always, and I loved him for it. I suddenly remembered how I last saw Lyra, naked and beaten, more angry than I had ever saw her.
"What had happened to you?" I asked.
"You don't want to know", she replied, darkly. "Those men were animals".
Her face showed her remembrance as she briefly looked away. She turned back to me slightly smiling.
"If it weren't for Aran, we wouldn't be sittin' here now", she said, proudly. "He saved us both".
I smiled too. He was a hero.
After a few hours, I was able to stand. Lyra propped me on her shoulder, and I managed a few pigeon steps across the surgery floor. My legs ached, but they did have strength there. Lyra encouraged me every step I made, eventually allowing me to walk a short distance by myself, before staggering into a counter. She ran over to prop me up, "OK, we're not quite ready for that, are we?".
The door whooshed open and Ed walked in.
"Look who's up", he said, sounding slightly bored. "Sit on the bed, please".
I heeded his words, limping over with Lyra's help. I perched on the end of the bed, the flexing of my arm causing me pain. Ed walked over with some medigel and another needle. He lifted my shirt and rubbed the medigel onto my side. It burned momentarily but subsided into numbness. He kept my shirt lifted and reached for a roll of bandages. He began snaking it around my ribcage, wrapping it tighter and tighter as he wound. He taped it up and pulled my shirt back down. Without warning, he jabbed the needle into my leg. It hurt more this time, now I was completely awake. Ed shot Lyra a stern look and she nodded. She put her arm around my back and hoisted me up.
We made our way to the door, hobbling using Lyra's shoulder. Ed opened the door for us, handing Lyra a small holdall. She accepted it and smiled at Ed. He nodded in acknowledgement and closed the door as we left. We moved slowly down a maze of winding corridors before we came out at a small cab platform. Lyra hailed one down, which landed whirring infront of us. She carefully helped me lie down on the back seat. She climbed into the front, throwing the bag in with me.
"Point 23", she said to the driver. The driver nodded curtly and fired up the drivers. In a second, we were airborne and streaming to the lines of traffic. Lyra sat not speaking, staring out the front window. I lay in the back, thinking about what had happened, when the same question kept popping up.
"What the hell do we do now?"