The day finally came. Naturally, the hospital director flatly refused letting Elizabeth leave, since it violated regulations. And so, naturally, Mike waited until the man had left the department, and snuck out.
"Wow," Mike called up to his sister, gazing around him. "You were right, this is amazing!"
She hugged his neck, piggybacking on his shoulder.
"Yeah," she murmured, her voice thin in the cold. "They're all so pretty."
The glittering trunks stood sentinel around them, branches festooned with glowing lights. Snow fell lightly as they walked, giggly Christmas couples striding past them.
"All right sis," he grinned, padding through the white powder. 'It's shopping time! We can go anywhere, pick out anything you like."
"S'nice," she murmured.
"And then once that's done, we'll go to dinner! You won't believe it, but guess what I got reservations for? We're going to have a full course dinner! They'll be appetizers, main courses, and dessert!"
Elizabeth nestled tighter around his neck. "'Mm." She was totally light, Mike could barely feel her weight on him.
Holiday lights gleamed on their road, as they walked on. Mike blinked the flakes out of eyelids before they could melt.
"Hey, Mike?" he heard his sister say.
He stopped. "Yeah? What is it?"
"I love you, Bro."
When they snuck back in that night, Mike laid a sleeping Lizzie into her bed. Slumping into his chair, he quickly fell asleep behind her.
On her way out, Doctor Espinoza paused at the door. Catching a glimpse of the siblings, she managed a smile. Thanks for giving this to her, she thought, thanks for giving her this experience.
One Lizzie's frost-clouded windowsill, her flower swayed. A petal fell.
"Are you sure you'll be all right, Michael? You still haven't even told me where you're going to!"
"It's no problem, Mrs. Fetters," he replied softly, drawing his single suitcase through the door. "I'll be fine."
The landlady's careworn face frowned. "Mike-" she protested, as he shut the door behind him.
He strode out into the street, another anchor cut. Empty trees passed him as he walked, devoid of covering. The concrete felt like it was biting him right through his boots.
She was the one who kept me alive, he realized. I cared for her, just for the pleasure of her gratitude, for the one true happiness in my day. How could I have been so selfish…
In the entirety of my life, she was the only who gave me any purpose, any reason to even keep moving. One young, sick girl had enough life to share with another. She spent all her time in that bed, fighting to survive, and I barely did anything for her! How could I be so stupid!
I hope she was happy. I know she got more out of this life than I ever did. Mike looked up; the cold winter sky gazed back.
And now I've lost her.
Mike felt the frozen air solidify around him. How could you take her, God, he seethed. How is this justice, how is this right?
Why couldn't you have taken me? She was able to do good dying of cancer, alone in a hospital, while I never even tried. It's not right, I should have been the one, I'm barely even alive!
Mike felt a tug, as his tears froze on his cheeks. It's not fair, he thought again, slumped.
Now I am nothing.
The sound of traffic hooked Mike's attention. He'd traveled far without noticing. He stopped, and looked down over the side of the bridge. The highway stretched below him, cars pelting along in blurs.
He felt his gaze drawn in by their motion. They seemed so close. Surely, it was only a short step away.
But as he moved to get a closer a look, a familiar sight caught his eye.
Lizzie's hospital stood before him, beyond the highway. His feet had carried to it automatically, trained by years of habit. He squinted, and stepped forward to the end of the bridge, there was something happening outside the building.
"Thank you so much!" the young boy squeaked, tugging on his father's hand. Mike recognized him immediately; it was the boy from down the hall. He had had a serious case of meningitis. Must have gotten better, Mike thought numbly.
"We're so grateful," the father communicated to the man standing next to them.
"It's not a problem," the doctor smiled. "It's what I do."
The couple walked off, the boy scooped to sit, safe on his father's shoulders.
Mike felt something rise in his throat. He swallowed, and then straightened up. Abruptly, he turned, and jogged away.
To Mike's surprise, he found that construction work was actually easy, if he worked at it. And once he put his mind to it, he could do much more then direct traffic.
After 4 months of helping plan traffic patterns, he got a raise. After another three months, they promoted him at the grocery store, to customer relations manager.
After that, he had enough to afford night school. Even for a medical degree.
Maybe, his life could have a purpose after all. The memory of his sister's smile never left him; her kind words only strengthened him. I want to do that, he thought. I want to live a life where I can save others.
Driving rain pounded the cars of the train. Mike happily ignored it, smiling down at the contents of his hand. His ticket to his entrance exam smiled back at him. He heard the rain fall away as the train entered a tunnel.
Soon, I'll be at my dream, he thought. It's so exciting! Soon, I'll actually be able to start helping people, to reach my goal, and my hope. Soon, I'll have a purp-
An ear-wrenching scream ripped through him as the brakes howled on. Mike and the other passengers were hurled into the air as a collision detonated around them, sending them into darkness.
The last thing Mike saw was his ticket, flying away from him.
The rain had stopped. Mike saw sunlight oozing from the window, illuminating his friend's horrified faces.
"M-Mike?" Winnie stuttered, her gaze locked on him. "Are you all right? I mean, did you get your memories? Pardon me for saying, but, well, judging from your reactions… They didn't sound very nice."
Albert opened his mouth. "Mike, I-"
"Please," Mike said softly, not looking up from the worn wooden table. "Could you guys give me some time? I just want to be alone for a bit."
Winnie nodded stiffly. She swept out, dragging a protesting Albert with her.
Mike felt the last vestiges of the trance sweep away. He slumped. His head felt like it was crawling with insects, his newfound memories bit into him.
I… was apathetic, and lived out of habit, he thought in disbelief. The one thing that kept me alive was my dying sister, and I never gave her back a fraction of the love I received.
The memory of Lizzie burned; his heart raced at the feeling of finally knowing her again, but broke once he remembered he had lost her.
He'd lost her. No, she'd been taken! The most innocent, loving child he'd ever known, put through incredible pain and suffering. It wasn't fair!
And then, somehow, he'd hung on. With the help of Lizzie's love, he'd tried again. He'd been given hope that he could have purpose.
Only to have his hope taken.
What kind of person would do that? What kind of person would play with him like that, just make one big joke out of his entire life? To God, his life had been nothing.
Underneath the table, Mike's fist's clenched, his nails biting through his skin.
Winnie looked up as footsteps drew near, and Mike appeared at her shoulder. She made space for him at the roof's railing, as the afterlife's sun began to set.
"How'd you know to find me here?" she asked cautiously.
He leaned over the rail. "You always come here when you're not sure where else to go," he told her quietly.
She was silent for a moment as she processed his observation. "Oh…"
She fiddled around with a button on her coat. "So… about your memories. Do you still want to, you know, work with us? Do you still want to be in the Battlefront? Because if you don't-"
"Winnie," Mike interrupted, turning to meet her. "I'm not leaving you guys."
She blinked. "Oh. You mean…"
"Now I understand what the Battlefront fights for. It fights because God made our world cruel. He made us live lives of pain, lives without purpose. I want to fight with you, against him."
She straightened. "Right! Of course! Well, don't you worry, Mr. Muttonhead. Under my leadership, we shall soon be victorious."
It was Mike's turned to blink. "Wait, Mr. Muttonhead, what's that-"
He trailed off in surprise as Fred suddenly embraced him.
'Hey, she said. "For a bit, I thought we were going to lose you. I'm glad you're staying with us."
After a bit, he replied. "I am too."
Then, after a pause. "Hey, Mr. Muttonhead was a joke, right? I mean, that's not going to become a regular thing, ok? Because…"