She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I was terrified," she admitted. "I know that the transition is supposed to be safe for a healthy guy like you, and Julian was monitoring everything, but watching you lie there, burning up, and not knowing if you were going to wake up okay…" She shook her head.
"You were afraid that I wouldn't wake up?"
"I know it's irrational." She shrugged. "After all, we haven't lost a transitioning Dormant yet, but the possibility that the one you care for could be the first is always lurking in the background."
The door opened again, and Julian walked in carrying a tablet and looking like a man who had just come from dinner. There were crumbs on his collar that Tony chose not to mention.
"You're awake," Julian said, moving to check the monitors beside Tony's bed. "How do you feel?"
"Like I was hit by a truck, then the truck backed up and hit me again." Tony considered. "But also good. Vital. It's hard to explain."
"That's normal. Your body has been through major changes over the past few days. The fatigue will fade, but the sense of newness will persist for a while." Julian tapped something on his tablet. "Your vitals look excellent. Temperature is back to baseline, heart rate is strong, and your blood pressure is perfect." He put the tablet on the side table and pulled out a measuring tape. "According to the last measurements we took, you've grown half an inch. Let's see if anything has changed since then."
Tony blinked. "Half an inch? That's it?"
He'd been hoping for more. Not that he was particularly short—five foot eleven and a half was perfectly respectable, but if he was going to go through the ordeal of transitioning, a few extra inches of height would have been a nice bonus.
Shira snorted. "You didn't ask Julian where that half inch went," she said, her eyes dancing with mischief. "In some places, it can mean a lot."
Tony chuckled. "You're such a scoundrel, Shira!"
"A scoundrel? I haven't heard that word in decades."
It was a reminder that Shira was so much older than she looked, and as always, he felt a little unsettled by it even though it was not news to him.
"That's what my grandmother used to call me."
Julian looked like he was suppressing a laugh, but to his credit, he maintained a professional expression. "The growth is primarily skeletal—spine, long bones, that sort of thing. Any other developments would be soft tissue related, which we don't typically measure."
"Good to know," Tony said. "As it is, my soft tissues have been handled too many times by strangers already."
Julian made another note on his tablet. "If you remain fever-free through the night and wake up normally tomorrow, you can go home. I'll disconnect you from the monitoring equipment, remove that unmentionable thing that goes into your soft tissues, and prescribe some pain medication for the growing fangs and venom glands."
Tony swept his tongue over his teeth and gums, searching for any sign of the promised changes, but everything felt normal. There was no swelling, no tenderness, and no hint of fangs.
"There's nothing there yet," he said.
"It will come," Julian assured him. "The transition affects everyone differently. Some people develop fangs more quickly than others. Same for the venom glands. Don't worry. They will grow whether you want them or not."
"When can we have the ceremony?" Shira asked.
The confirmation ceremony. She had told him about it, but he'd forgotten. It was a little ritual that would officially confirm his transition to immortality. A small incision would be made on his palm while his friends watched, and it would be timed to see how quickly it healed. The faster the healing, the closer to the source the newly minted immortal was supposed to be.
"You can organize it for tomorrow morning," Julian said. "Around ten o'clock. By then, Tony will be free of all the tubes and showered."
"I'll take time off work." Shira tightened her fingers on Tony's hand. "I want to make it right for you."
"You don't have to make a big deal out of it. It's not like it's really necessary."
"This is important, Tony. As you've so eloquently said, this is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and it should be celebrated and recorded. The library can survive one morning without me."
Tony felt a warmth spread through his chest. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, but nothing is for free, buddy. You still owe me for three days of worry. I expect compensation."
"What kind of compensation?"
"I'll think of something." She smiled, and there was promise in that smile that made Tony's pulse quicken.
