Before I can ask, the door opens and a nurse steps inside. He’s a beta I vaguely recognize. He gives us an overly sweet smile from the doorway.
"Oh, you’re awake already. That’s wonderful," he says, coming over to check something on my IV.
"Is… that really necessary?" I mumble, eyeing him warily.
"Oh yes. You needed a transfusion. We had to draw blood quickly from donors. Luckily, several alphas had your blood type."
That surprises me. "Wait, so… how long was I unconscious?"
The nurse sighs. "A few hours. You lost a lot of blood."
I catch Salt’s gaze and swallow. I thought his wounds were worse, but it turns out mine were just as dangerous. I was already dying when we went into Joining.
Those were literally our last seconds to act.
For a moment, a strange tightness grips my chest. We both brushed against death.
My parents died like this, but in their case… They never got the chance to heal. The awareness of how lucky we were feels unreal. It hasn’t sunk in yet, but maybe I should value life more now. It’s like a second chance.
I glance at Salt again. There’s something in his eyes as he looks at me that’s hard to read. Could it be something like… tenderness?
The nurse checks a few more machines behind my head.
"Doctor Cooper will be here shortly," he adds, "but we’d like to keep you at least a few days here, just to be safe."
I don’t say anything. My mind is still in that dazed state, aware of how close I came to the end of my story in this world.
"There are people who’d like to talk to you," the nurse adds suddenly. "You’re stable enough, so the doctor would allow it."
With that same sugary smile, he heads for the door.
Before I can respond, Bashir and Fred appear in the doorway.
I blink in surprise. What are they doing here? We’re friends, but they’re not exactly obligated to visit patients in the hospital.
"Good to see you in one piece," Bashir says with a tight expression as he comes up to my bed.
I offer him my hand, which he shakes. Fred moves toward Salt.
"Uh… thanks. For now, we’re still around," I mutter awkwardly.
"I wanted to let you know," Bashir starts, "that we’re leaving the island, along with several other couples. Enough is enough."
Silence settles over the room. Fred sits down on the edge of Salt’s bed, his head lowered.
The tension in the air is thick.
"I’m not even asking why," I mutter.
"Yeah. I still can’t believe how insanely lucky Fred and I were. We got home and found our washing machine knocked over in front of the secret bathroom door. Drax came to our place first, but we were out for a walk. A miracle. He got tired of waiting and came to you instead. We were one step away from sharing your fate."
"Oh, fuck," Salt mutters. "Good thing you went for that walk!"
It dawns on me that if Drax had shot them, they wouldn’t have had any way to regenerate. That would have been the end for them. No wonder it hit them hard.
That reminds me of the question burning in the back of my mind. "What about that bastard?"
Before Bashir can react, Salt perks up instantly. "I’ve talked with the nurse before. Unbelievably, but that fucker survived too."
