On the beach. Reese was back on the beach, looking over the ocean horizon with the star light and moon light glimmering off the surface of the water. That same cool breeze, blowing past his skin and through his long hair. The sand felt cool between his toes. How long had he been there? A few minutes? Hours? Days? The last thing he remembered was wishing he could stay in this one perfect moment on the beach, forever. Perhaps his wish had come true.

The faint strumming of a guitar caught his attention. G. B7. E minor. C. He turned, and saw a gorgeous figure sitting on the sand just a few feet away. Her beautiful blonde hair waving in the wind. Her pink dress bunched up at her knees. Her black denim jacket neatly folded next to her. She opened her eyes, and gave a quick glance to Reese. Her eyes, deep and blue like the sea that spanned before them. She flashed a big smile at him. Her teeth were crooked and misshapen, like they'd always been. But it was gorgeous to Reese.

It was her.

He took a seat next to her. She closed her eyes again, letting the chords overtake her as her beautiful voice filled the air.

"I know we'll never grow old together.

But you'll never grow old to me.

You're the pink in my cheeks,

And I'm scared that it means

I'm a little bit soft…"

And Reese sat next to her. And he loved her. And he cried for her. He cherished her and loved her and cried for her. Cried because she wasn't there. Cried because he hadn't heard that voice in so long.

Cried because he knew this was a dream.

The world returned in fragments. Blinding bright light. A buzzing he felt deep in his chest. A ringing in his ears. A faint warmth filling an empty feeling he couldn't quite place. His thoughts returned as he questioned where the hell he was. Then his memories as the events of what felt like five minutes ago played back in his head; chewing, ripping, biting, tearing. A flash of the creatures face briefly appeared in his mind, and he heard the beeps of the heart monitor quicken to an unfortunate level.

A heart monitor… Reese took in his surroundings properly. A white room, with pepper flecked white ceiling tiles and linoleum tile flooring. Two chairs were directly across from him, and he slowly realized he was laying in a sterile white bed, complete with white sheets. A large window overlooked a parking lot, a parking lot he had visited what felt like a few hours ago. He must have been at the hospital. Reese realized he could see Little Homeworld a ways off in the distance through the window.

Little Homeworld…

(You're awake! Oh, finally! I was starting to think you'd never come back.)

Reese blinked, looking around the room. He didn't see anyone in there to produce the voice he had just heard. Not but a moment later, a girl popped into the room, and her eyes widened, almost seeming to light up at the sight of Reese. "Oh, shit! , he's awake!" She yelled.

Reese's head turned towards the unknown girl. The sudden movement made his head spin, and for a moment, the room swayed like a boat on a stormy sea. She was about his age, with olive skin and neatly kept, mid-length brown hair. The color reminded him of fresh dirt. Before he could properly process her and what was happening, she had dashed out of the room, leaving Reese alone with his confusion and the steady beeps of his heart monitor. Moments later, another figure appeared: a composed woman in a white lab coat. .

"Reese," She greeted gently, her voice steady and professional. "It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?" She stepped closer and began inspecting the vitals on the heart monitor.

Reese opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. How was he supposed to answer that, given the circumstances? "Uh… I'm alive, I guess?" He rasped, his voice unfamiliar and hoarse.

"That's a good start." gave a faint smile. "Try not to talk too much yet; your throat will be sore from the breathing tube." She took another look at the machines, and scribbled something onto her clipboard. "You've been through quite the ordeal."

"No kidding." Reese muttered, his throat scratching with each word. He reached his hand over to his shoulder, feeling a strange itch beginning to form. But his fingers met something unfamiliar. He felt the cold touch of metal where the flesh of his shoulder should have been.

It plunged its sharp fangs straight into Reese's shoulder.

"What's…" His voice faltered, his hand slowly moving down. His fingers met the smooth grit of polished stone, a rigid bump that jutted out from his shoulder. The touch was warm, buzzing and electric. His fingers continued down an inch or so, until they touched rounding metal and began to touch the other side of his arm. Or rather, the lack thereof. Moving his head to look down at his right arm, he saw first what wasn't there: his arm, no longer taking up the space it once had. What he saw next did nothing but generate several questions in his mind; a metal attachment on the stump of his arm, holding in place an orange-pink crystal, with a blueish-white circle in the middle and five lines connecting to the sides of the pentagonal gem.

Reese's breath hitched. His chest tightened, panic bubbling to the surface. "What is this?" He asks with a voice slightly louder than he intended. He felt his breath quicken and his pulse increase, the heart monitor beeping faster in response. quickly turned to Reese, concern in her eyes. "What did you do to me?" He demanded, his good hand clawing at the metal on his shoulder.

(Calm down, Reese. You're going to hyperventilate.)

"Who said that?!"

"Reese- Reese, calm down. Stop messing with the brace, you'll hurt yourself." 's expression didn't waiver, though her tone softened. "Reese, please, take a deep breath. I can explain everything."

Reese felt himself - almost involuntarily - take a deep breath in, holding it for a few second, and then letting it out. The exhale trembled against his lips.

"The corrupted Gem's attack was… savage. Your injuries were extensive, there was no hope of saving your arm, and…" She hesitated. "...and I wasn't sure if you would survive the surgery if I didn't do something drastic."

She gestured to the gem. "It wasn't an… easy decision…" whispered, her voice firm and her gaze steady. "But it was the only surefire way to save your life."

Her words sat uncomfortable in his chest. He looked back at the gem, which was now lightly pulsing with orange light. "So- so, what, you basically sewed an alien corpse onto my arm?"

's expression remained composed, though her shoulders stiffened ever so slightly. "It's… a bit more complicated than that." She said carefully. "Sparing you the technical details… I surgically attached the gem to your nervous system. It's part of you now." She paused. The weight of her words lingered in the sterile room.

"Honestly, though…" took a deep breath. "...I cannot tell you what that means - or what's going to happen. All I know is that the gem is why you are currently alive."

"You can't just tell me that you don't know what's going to happen! You did this to me!" Reese threw up his one good arm into the air in exasperation. He felt energy drain out of him after the one simple movement. He closed his eyes, all frustration suddenly gone from his body as exhaustion set it. "This can't be real." He muttered.

"I know it's overwhelming," began. "And you'll be here under my supervision so we can make sure you're stable, and catch any potential side effects before they grow worse. But for now, you need to rest. It's only been two days; your body needs time to heal."

Before Reese could respond (TWO DAYS?!), the girl with the dirt-colored hair returned, carrying what seemed to be a tray of food and a bottle of water. "Is he freaking out? He's freaking out, isn't he?" She asked, setting the tray down on a table next to Reese's bed.

"Lyric, give him space." said with a sigh.

"I don't appreciate being a lab rat, ." Reese spat, his words dripping with venom.

"Then it's a good thing you're my patient." She responded, not allowing his words to get to her. She turned and left the hospital room, leaving Reese and this new girl - Lyric - alone. An awkward silence hung in the air. She hovered near the door a moment. Reese watched her from the corner of his eye, his mind too riddled with thoughts and questions to make proper sense of her presence.

"So, uh, you don't… know me." She started, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm Lyric. I'm one of the people who, y'know… saved you. And stuff. You were in pretty bad shape then. I should say it wasn't just us, I mean, did all the heavy lifting, yknow, with all the, like…" Her voice started to trail off. "...surgery… and stuff…" She shifted her weight from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable. Reese could feel himself becoming irritated as she spoke. Frankly, he didn't really even know why she was getting on his nerves. This was exactly how he would sometimes speak to others, especially when he himself felt nervous and uncomfortable. "You don't have to, like, thank me or anything. That's not why I…" Lyric sighed and took in a nervous breath. "I just thought you should know."

That was the wrong thing to say to Reese at that moment.

He finally looked at her, and he was quite certain that the irritation he tried to hide was now obvious in his expression. "Is this what you do?" He said. "Play hero, and then hover around to see if the person you saved is properly grateful? Well, sorry, but I'm not exactly overflowing with gratitudes right now." He regretted the words as soon as they came spilling from his mouth. He saw Lyric flinch, and her face turn a faint shade of red.

"That's not-"

"Shit. Sorry." He muttered, barely audible.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry." Reese repeated, louder this time. "You were doing the right thing. You don't deserve to have me taking my frustration out on you. I'm just… trying to wrap my head around this. I just… don't understand."

Lyric's posture softened. She stepped closer and pulled out the chair next to his bed. "I get it. I mean, you basically have the Arc Reactor attached to your arm and no one has any answers for what it's gonna do to you."

Reese laughed at the dated reference. "Fan of old movies, huh?"

Lyric turned red again. "It's not old! It came out like- thirty years ago, I'd hardly call that old." She crossed her arms, getting a confident, almost smug look on her face. "It's retro. And I'll have you know that the movie began an entire cinematic universe that was enjoyed by fans for years to come." Reese laughed at her stubbornness. He leaned back against the pillows, irritation melting as Lyric's mock indignation filled the room.

"Let me guess; you're one of those people who can quote every line?"

Lyric's expression turned sheepish. She rubbed the back of her neck again. "Maybe…" She muttered, just barely loud enough for Reese to hear.

"You're something else." He said, the tension that had filled the room just a few moments ago shifting into something lighter. For the first time since waking up, Reese felt like he could properly breath, the weight of everything else lifting, even if just a little. "And for the record," He added, his tone softer. "Thanks. For saving me. Seriously." Lyric's face lit up with a genuine smile, and she gave a small, triumphant nod.

The next few days after that were - thankfully - not as complicated or overwhelming as Reese was dreading. continued to check up on him and his recovery, attempting to - and failing - to get into Reese's good graces. He let her do her work - what other choice did he have - but he still wasn't going to let the "good doctor" feel welcome any time soon.

Lyric, on the other hand, had seemed to make it her personal goal to drag Reese out of his bitterness. She visited pretty much every day, always bringing something new to do to help Reese pass the time in the hospital. One day, it was snacks smuggled in against hospital policy. And then brought in the Revel Cinematic Universe. She started with the aforementioned Platinum Man she had referenced, perched on the edge of his hospital bed and quoting every iconic line before the actors could even deliver them. Reese wanted to roll his eyes each time she did, but he had to admit, her enthusiasm was infectious. He felt the faintest sense of normalcy creeping back in.

Reese also became acquainted with some of the hospital staff. Jordan, the security guard who had glared at him with suspicion on the day Reese made the delivery, had become far less annoyed at the boy's presence. He now greeted Reese with a gruff but friendly nod whenever their paths crossed. Reese guessed it was hard to dislike someone after seeing them hauled in front of you, half-dead. Even the nurses had gained a friendly rapport with him, though he was less sure it was because of him and his condition and more so Lyric's unrelenting friendliness to everyone who came near her.

On the fifth day - a week after the attack - Lyric appeared with a small cardboard box under her arm. "I found these in my closet. I haven't had a need for them in years, so they're probably more your speed." She pulled out a stack of guitar tableture books, and Reese's stomach twisted - he had completely forgotten about the guitar.

Stupid, stupid Reese. You let the guitar get broken. She'll never forgive you.

(It wasn't your fault.)

Reese's gaze shot up. That hadn't been Lyric… it was too high-pitched compared to Lyric's voice. His eyes darted around the room. The television was on, distantly playing audio from some bad sitcom. Yeah, that must have been it.

"I mean, you… probably can't play right now," Lyric added quickly. "But, y'know, maybe something to look forward to? Or at least another distraction from the whole 'oh no, alien rock' situation you've got going on." She shrugged, her grin softening. "Figured it couldn't hurt, right?"

Reese stared at the books for a moment, unsure whether to thank her or tell her off. He felt a flood of emotions beginning to swallow him whole. He should have thanked her, thanked her for the kind gesture, but… there was no way. There was no possible way he could ever play again. Forget the fact that he didn't have a guitar anymore. Forget the fact that he didn't have two arms anymore. It was just so… disrespectful. It was like an insult. To himself, to her. He promised that he would never let the guitar sustain any damage. He promised to always maintain that guitar until he died, but when push came to shove he chose his stupid life over his promise.

"Reese?"

Lyric's voice faint, muffled - like she was talking to him from the other side of a thick wall. His breath hitched. The air grew heavier and the room got dark. His heart pounded, erratic and wild. His breaths turned shallow, too fast and too uneven. A prickling coldness spread across his skin, and his body rushed with adrenaline that had nowhere to go. He felt his throat tightening, a lump rising that he couldn't swallow.

He let this happen. He made so many promises and then he let this happen. The image of the guitar, snapped in two popped into his head. The sight of a segmented leg crushing its neck into the pavement. The sight of that corrupted gem's fanged mouth, shrieking, soundless - no, laughing. Laughing a shrill, horrible sound. Laughing at him. Laughing at her.

"YOU DON'T GET TO LAUGH AT HER!" He roared, his voice cracking and his throat straining. With his right arm he swiped the stack of books off of the bed, sending them to the ground in one violent motion. His chest heaved, his breath ragged. Light returned to his vision. The weight in the room lifted - but not bu much - and sound began to filter in again. Lyric had pressed herself up against the far wall, eyes wide and was now holding a green crossbow.

Reese froze at a realization. His gaze dropped to his trembling right hand. Slowly, as if going too fast would shatter the fragile moment, he flexed his fingers. They obeyed. Shock rolled over him and his breath hitched again.

Right hand?

He stared at the odd limb. It was a stark contrast to his human body. It was obviously foreign - obviously alien. His fingers and the outer layer of the flesh was made up of a slightly transparent, blue substance. Touching it with his good hand, it was gooey and viscous against his fingertips. At the same time, he felt no normal sensation from the arm itself as fingertips touched goo; just a soft pressure where the - his? - arm was. Underneath that blue goo was like looking at his bones. It was a thinner orange limb, like an arm inside his arm, except this arm was all orange and ended at a palm, having no fingers to speak of.

"Well, that's certainly a development." Lyric said bluntly.

"What is all the… commotion…" rushed into the room, before falling silent at the sight of Reese's new arm.

"It worked."