WnW 3.1 – Learn Quickly

A flicker of pain snapped me out of my stupor. I watched a thin trail of blood run down my chin, then my neck. I gently set the razor down on the lip of the sink. That was probably enough. I’d shaved as much as the razor would allow and then kept going, scraping away layers of skin like I was trying to remove some invisible filth from my face.

My hair had grown long, reaching down to my middle back, too long for just a week’s worth, like my hair was the only part of my body that matched how long the week had felt.

I reached out and wiped some condensation from the mirror, then ran my fingers over my body, touching the spots where I’d been injured. Sickle, bat, knife, no traces were left of where they had struck true yet my mind remembered what my body had forgotten. Still, without scars or the spots where antlers had breached my skin, it was like it never happened. I had no proof. I found a bump at my shoulder, where Nell’s flower had been. Prodding it, I thought maybe I could feel Nell’s presence in my head. Thank you, I thought.

There was a knock at the bathroom door. I put my shirt back on and opened it.

Mac had changed out of his combat gear and now wore a suit and glasses. He gave me a gentle smile that leeched some of the tension from my shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

I moved past him to sit on the hospital bed. “I’m okay.”

“Your parents are outside.”

There was a pause in my thoughts, an anticipation of something. It took me a second to realize what it was. It was the place where my stomach would usually turn itself into a knot. “Okay,” I said.

Mac sat down on the bed next to me, folding his hands. I stared at them.

“Mac, where is your wedding ring?”

He blinked and his smile froze, no longer entirely genuine. “I can’t wear it while I work. It’s policy.”

“What exactly are you doing at H.E.S.P.?”

Mac sighed. “Nick, I can’t talk about it. All I can say is it’s a government thing.”

“So the government knows about what’s happening. The people, the monsters, the… changing.”

Mac said nothing. The smile was gone, his eyes lowered to the floor.

“Why is there no news of it?” My heartbeat felt strange in my chest. “Why are they trying to hide it?”

“It’s complicated. Putting this into the public sphere would have drastic consequences. There’s still so much we don’t know.”

I paused, then asked the obvious question, “What’s stopping me from telling everyone?”

Mac looked away from me, then turned back. He pulled a folded paper form within his suit jacket.

Oh.

“I’m supposed to get you to sign this non-disclosure agreement. But honestly, Nick? Nothing’s stopping you, except the fact that no one but conspiracy theorists would believe you. Have you seen the news lately? They’re floundering. A.I. has made it impossible to trust even video evidence.”

My head felt heavy. What would it take for people to believe the truth? One of those monsters, attacking people in broad daylight? I couldn’t look at Mac, so I stared at my hands instead. My voice caught on the bitterness. “So I suppose I’m not going to get an explanation?”

“Nick, you promised.”

“This is my body we’re talking about. What if I…” I met his eyes briefly, “change again?”

Mac’s expression didn’t falter. “If the symptoms get bad then let me know. We’ll figure something out.”

Symptoms. That’s an understatement.

Mac groaned and flopped backwards onto the bed. I lurched forward as the bed shifted.

“Nick, look at me.”

I turned. Mac’s face held nothing but concern for me. Guilt drove back the resentment.

“Put this behind you,” he said. “I had to pull a lot of strings to get my higher-ups off your back. I’m going to be swimming in paperwork for months.”

“I hope that tall guy chews you out.”

Mac groaned and put a hand over his eyes. “Don’t get me started on Conrad. The man won’t even let me take a shit in peace.”

I stared at the door to the room, not quite ready to take the plunge. “I guess I ruined your big day, huh?” I said quietly.

“That’s enough of that,” Mac said firmly. “Clearly you had no control over those events. Claire doesn’t hold it against you either. She cheered when I told her on the phone that you’d been found.”

He loosened his tie, looking mischievous. “If anything, it was the awful music choice that ruined it.”

I swatted his leg. “You have no taste. Crowblood is great.”

Mac pretended to wince and rub his shin. “Claire said the same thing.”

My grin slowly faded as I remembered something. “What about the Cathrow children? There were three of them. One’s just a baby.”

He nodded somberly. “They’ve been processed. There weren’t any known relatives, so they’ll be put into foster care. H.E.S.P. will continue to take protective measures, in case anyone tries to take them back.”

That hurt my heart to hear. My brushes with Child and Family Services were painful, I could only hope that they would find it better than the hell they escaped from. It wasn’t like I was in a position to care for them.

“Could I talk to Jason?” I asked.

Mac shook his head regretfully. “No. Not unless you want to be processed properly and that would undo all of my hard work to fly you and your friend under the radar. Speaking of which,” he looked at me seriously, “you can’t tell your parents about this. One word gets back to Conrad and he’ll drag your entire family in for questioning.”

“Fine,” I said, returning my gaze to the door. “Let’s get this over with, I’m ready to go home.”

After signing the form, Mac said he would stay and make a call while I greeted my family.

I rested my hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath, and pulled it open.

My father sat on a seat outside and his eyes widened when he saw me. Instinctively, my eyes fell to the floor and I stayed rigidly still. I heard him get up and his shoes came into view, staying at a respectful distance.

“Uh… Your mother just went to the washroom. She’ll be back soon.”

I had been through so much. How could I be afraid now? Things were different. I’d changed. So I forced myself to raise my eyes, inch by inch, gaining ground until I could see his hands, slightly raised from his sides, halfway to offering a hug.

Further. I dragged myself up each button of his shirt until I saw the collar.

With one final effort, I met his eyes. But somehow, I didn’t linger there. My vision didn’t tunnel. I really fully looked at my dad.

Casual clothes. Thin. Glasses that were sliding down his nose. Shadows under his eyes. He still didn’t take proper care of himself. An awkward shift of his feet as he struggled to find words. He’d seemed so much taller before. Now I just saw an ordinary, imperfect man. And I felt relief.

“I want to talk about it.” The words left my mouth before I realized it.

Confusion crossed his face, then slowly realization, followed by a familiar haunted look. But that was all it was. Nothing more. I would be fine, even if his opinion of me changed.

“Son, I…”

“I remember. All of it.”

He nodded, pushing up his glasses with a trembling hand. “You have to understand, I did what I had to. It wasn’t just our family at risk. It was everyone that worked at that lab, not to mention whoever else could be hurt by what we made. I had to sully my hands to protect everyone. I had to do it.”

I shut my eyes. That hurt. More than hearing it in my memories. “You hurt me,” I said quietly, trying to breathe deeply and relax my muscles.

“It was the lesser of two evils, given that time was of the essence. Far, far the preferable-”

“You. Hurt. Me.” I said, louder. “I don’t care about the circumstances right now. We can discuss that later. Acknowledge what you did.”

Dad’s trembling hands fell limply to his sides. “Yes. Of course. I hurt you.”

I took a shaky breath. “And that was wrong.”

He was quiet. Then, in a voice I could barely hear, “yes.”

We stood there in silence for some time. I soaked in the feeling, wondering why it had taken this long.

I spoke, “I don’t know if I can forgive you. Maybe someday, but for now, I just want you to know that I am going to heal from this. It will leave its mark, but one day it will stop hurting. So wipe that stupid look off your face and just be glad that I’m alive.”

Dad raised his eyes, mouth open but with nothing to say. Finally, he simply nodded.

At that moment, I heard a shrill, “Nick!” and my mother enveloped me in a warm hug. It took some effort to extract my arms from the vice grip so I could hug her back. She smelled like home.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she murmured into my chest. Then her head quickly raised her head to give me a once over. “You are okay, right?”

“I’m getting there,” I whispered.

My dad stayed where he was. That was the correct thing to do, I wasn’t ready to hug him. But as my mom squeezed me tight, I kept that newly returned connection alive, holding my dad’s gaze without shying away. He nodded again, eyes moist. Message received.