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“I couldn’t get the poison out.”
Eishia exclaimed and looked up at Gris with wide eyes. He stared back at her with an equally alarmed expression.
“It didn’t work—I tried, but…I couldn’t…” She trailed off, looking back down at her patient with concern. She had tried to direct her vital instrument to clear out the toxins from his system but it didn’t work. Zanka stared up at the ceiling with the same unblinking wide eyes as before. He was still trembling, the effects of the poison were not subsiding in the least.
“You closed the wounds, though,” the older blond Supporter observed. “These will still need stitches, but the worst of it is healed.”
“Yeah, but…” the healer stammered. “I couldn’t do anything about—"
“Eishia,” Gris responded sternly. “You can only do what you can. And you’ve done a lot already.”
“…” She didn’t look too sure. “I just don’t know…what he was hit with.”
“You’ll figure it out. I know you will,” he tried to reassure her and focus her back on the task at hand. This was not the time to panic.
“Mmmm,” She nodded softly, uncertainly, and started drawing another vial of blood for testing. One she was done she instructed the Supporter to help with the rest. “Please keep him still. I’ll do the stitches.”
Gris complied readily, falling into the routine of his medical training. Eishia was the only official healer they had, but Supporters had enough medical training to jump in when needed, at least for the basics.
“Do we need any anesthetic?” He asked, though he already suspected the answer.
“It’s not going to matter,” Eishia frowned. Based on the condition the injured Cleaner was in, he was not going to notice or remember. “Also…I can’t give him anything without knowing what he was poisoned with. There’s no telling if it will react badly or not…”
The cut on his leg sealed up alright, but the wound on his stomach was deep. Her vital instrument was able to do most of the work closing it up and repairing any damage to the internal organs, but a cut that size still required extra stitches. She worked diligently to try to sew it up as quickly as possible. Gris kept on hand on his shoulder to steady him while she worked, but it wasn’t entirely necessary. Zanka didn’t seem fazed by it at all. He just lay there limply, staring up at the ceiling in what looked like a drug-induced stupor.
“I don’t think it’s the same poison as Jabber hit me with,” Gris noted. “That one didn’t last this long.”
Their patient murmured something incoherently under his breath, eyes still fixed straight ahead. The older Supporter scowled.
“It also didn’t cause hallucinations.”
Eishia nodded. “I didn’t think so either. Hmmm…it could be something entirely different. Or…” Eishia trailed off, thinking out loud as she worked on the stitches. “It could be more than one.”
“A combination?” Gris asked. It wasn’t entirely out of the question. He recalled the mania with which the Raider fought. On second thought, a combo of poisons was very, very likely. Unfortunately, no one was around to see their fight this time. Based on the recollections of the other Akuta members, no one knew exactly what happened or what Jabber hit him with. They were working completely blind.
Eishia bit her lip. If only I was better at using my powers…
“The problem is…” Eishia finished up and tied off the thread. “I can’t do anything without knowing what kind of toxin—or toxins—they are. I can’t fix him with my powers. I can’t do anything.”
As soon as she was done with the treatment, she put her face in her hands in dismay and stepped back. Gris came around to her side of the bed. He had to kneel down a little to give her a reassuring hug.
“You are doing what you can, Eishia. That’s all we can do.”
After, the pair finished tending to the injured Cleaner silently, making sure to wrap the stomach wound with gaze and stabilizing him as much as possible. He was still out of it. Gris left to check on the other Cleaners while Eishia quickly tagged the blood samples for analysis. Not long after, Enjin showed up. He looked exhausted and she was about to kick him out, but the concerned look on his face made her reconsider.
“He’s stable. I got him stitched up but I couldn’t get the poison out,” she admitted quietly.
Enjin raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer.
“I couldn’t give him anything either…I don’t know what toxin it is, or if it will react negatively to any other drugs.”
The blond Cleaner glanced briefly towards his injured teammate, mentally noting down the information. Eishia was curt and giving just the facts. She was clearly upset by all of this.
“If you can sit with him, I’ll go finish up with Riyo and the rest of your team.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Also, he’s still hallucinating,” she warned. “Don’t disturb him.”
“I’m not—” He started, putting his hands up defensively but pivoted once he noticed her grim expression. “I won’t.”
“If he gets worse, call me.”
Team Akuta’s leader nodded. The healer fixed him with one more stern look, then turned around and made her way to the next room to tend to the others. Enjin sighed and walked over to his injured teammate’s bedside.
Zanka looked rough. Well, rough was an understatement. He was hooked up to a heart monitor and IV line. Gris and Eishia had swapped his Cleaner uniform for a simple hospital robe. He lay completely still, save for a constant trembling throughout his entire body. His skin was incredibly pale, more pale than usual, and his hair stood up on end—though that could have been from the effects of Eishia’s vital instrument. He took short, shallow breaths, occasionally hissing in pain. The most unsettling part was his vacant expression, eyes dilated and staring into space.
“Hey, Zan-Zan. How ya’ doing?” He asked hesitantly.
Zanka didn’t react.
“It’s Enjin. You with the land of the living?”
The teenager blinked once and moved his head ever so slowly, left to right.
“Enjin…” he slurred. He wasn’t looking at him. No, he was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes wide and unblinking, pupils dilated. “En….jin….”
The tattooed blond grimaced. This was disturbing.
“I wanna…” he murmured to himself. Enjin leaned a little closer and strained to hear him.
“Hmmm…?”
“I wanna…join…the cleaners…”
Shit, man. Enjin shuddered. Eishia was right, the dude was tripping balls.
“Yeah, buddy,” the blond responded gently. “You’ll get there.”
Oooof.
He plopped down on the cot opposite Eishia’s patient and regarded the other cleaner wearily. The hum of the machines and the steady beeping of the heart monitor were not enough to drown out the sound of his labored breathing and occasional pained whimpers. The leader of the Akuta Cleaners ran his hand through his hair and pulled out a cigarette.
Was there really nothing they could do about this? He thought to himself as he lit up. Eishia would disapprove but it’s not like Zanka’s gonna notice. A little smoke was the least of his worries. He sighed. There was zero chance they weren’t going to run into the Raiders again. Even assuming they were no longer after Rudo, the fact that the leader was manufacturing trash beasts was enough to put them on their radar. They were bound to fight again. And what then? How do they prevent this from happening again?
He smoked slowly, lost in thought as he observed his injured teammate in the hospital bed beside him. The minutes passed and he almost burned his hand as the cigarette burned down to a nub between his fingers. Damn, he was tired.
A soft groan from the younger Akuta member eventually snapped him out of his daze.
“En...jin...”
The blond stood up sharply and walked over.
Zanka stared up at him. His eyes were not entirely focused but he seemed a little more clear-eyed.
Was he coming down from the high…?
“How are you feeling?” he asked and sat down on the edge of the bed.
The teen was more aware of his surroundings but didn’t look much better than he did before. His breathing was still shallow and uneven and the shaking had worsened.
Enjin reached over to grasp his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“I think…” Zanka he slurred out in between breaths. “Somethin’s wrong with me.”
His hand was cold and clammy. There was sweat on his brow and he was pale. Very pale. Enjin scowled and looked around the room. He should probably get Eishia—
“It hurts.”
Enjin snapped back to his teammate, eyes widening in surprise. Zanka never complains when he’s injured. He always minimizes it and puts on a brave front, especially around him. Something to do with pride as a noble and Hell Guard training and not showing weakness or whatever the fuck. For him to admit being in pain…It would have to be bad. He was clearly still out of it, but still…
Enjin held his right hand tightly, but Zanka reached over with his other hand to grasp at his stomach where he was stabbed. He shuddered visibly and whimpered in pain.
“I’m sorry, Eishia couldn’t give you anything for the pain."
Zanka pulled his hand away with a surprising amount of strength and tried to push himself up to seated.
“Don’t move, you’ll tear your stitches.”
“It hurts.”
“I know,” Enjin frowned. “Just…try to bear with it.”
The teenager wasn’t listening. He curled up, clutching at his midsection painfully. Enjin put his hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down as gently as possible to try to keep him lying still.
Zanka felt something pushing him down. He didn’t fight it and instead sank back into bed weakly. He shut his eyes and groaned. Everything hurt. A splitting headache formed in the back of his head. A shudder ran through him. His stomach clenched and he clutched at it desperately. It felt hot, like a burning that radiated from his core. It hurt, it hurt…
“I’ll get Eishia,” he heard someone say.
There must be someone there with him but he couldn’t be sure who. He forced his eyes open and blinked a few times, trying to clear his blurry vision but it didn’t help. It was way too bright. He could see someone next to him but he couldn’t make out who is was. Enjin? Or just another hallucination? He couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.
Fuck, it hurt.
A wave of nausea hit him. He bit his lip and turned his head away, trying to ride it out by focusing on his breathing. He gripped the fabric of the bedsheets tightly. His whole body shook and the nausea was building. He groaned. Shit.
He vaguely remembered the damn Raider warning him about this.
“It causes hallucinations so vivid you’d think they’re real life…Then afterwards, it makes you wanna puke your guts out!”
Wasn’t that what Jabber said…? Or was that a hallucination too? He tried to remember but everything was hazy. What else did he say—?
“Maybe I could have had more fun if I’d fought a different cleaner.”
FUCK.
He tried to steady his breathing but he was fighting a losing battle. His eyes darted around the room desperately.
“I feel sick.” His stomach cramped again and he curled up on his side to try to lessen the feeling of nausea but it wasn’t helping. He wrapped his hands around his stomach tightly and another low moan escaped his lips.
“Stop. Your stitches, Zanka—"
He couldn’t take it. He could taste bile at the back of his throat. The nausea was overwhelming.
“I think I’m going to—” The teen leaned over the side of the bed and threw up.
“Eishia!”
Dammit!
Enjin panicked. How did he always get stuck babysitting sick and injured teenagers? Oh yeah, he’s the one who recruited them. Damn…
“Eishia, he’s getting worse!” Enjin called for the healer while looking for a bucket or something else useful. A trash can in the corner caught his eye and he dragged it over quickly for his teammate to be sick into instead of the floor. Eishia came quickly, Gris swiftly following behind.
The nausea came quickly and violently. Zanka retched. His whole body shook as his body rejected the contents of his stomach, and then some. The taste of bile and acid in his mouth made him gag even more. His stomach hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt. The waves of nausea were unrelenting. Even after he had nothing left to puke out, he dry heaved, his whole body convulsing to trying to get the poison out.
The others hovered nearby, but there wasn’t much any of them could do but let him get it out of his system. Eishia brought over a glass of water, but a single sip just caused him to gag and cough up more acid.
Eventually, the worst of it passed and he collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted. His whole body shook and he panted for breath. He curled up again and wrapped his arms tightly around himself to suppress the shaking, groaning. His hair was drenched in sweat. His bangs stuck to his forehead.
Eishia came up and felt his forehead and instantly recoiled.
“He’s burning up,” she darted off to get a cool cloth. Zanka moaned weakly.
The nausea slowly subsided but it felt like the pain intensified, the hallucinations and queasiness no longer distracting from the other sensations assaulting his system. His stomach and left leg felt like they were on fire, as the poison radiated outwards across his entire body. The burning pain slowly overpowered all other feeling.
“It burns.”
“You’re going to be okay, Zanka,” Eishia insisted, putting a cold, damp cloth on his forehead. His temperature had indeed spiked, his body’s natural immune response kicking in to fight against the poison that had flooded his system.
“It’s like…fire,” he tried to explain but his head throbbed and talking hurt too.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Eishia frowned, “Please try to steady your breathing.”
Enjin and Gris stood back, letting the healer observe and get a reading on his vitals. After checking the monitors, the young Giver stepped back with a grim expression.
“It doesn’t make a lot of sense,” she disclosed to the guys quietly. “I was hoping that vomiting it out would get most of the toxins out of his body, but he’s still showing signs of severe poisoning.”
Gris grit his teeth.
“Can you tell what it is based on the symptoms?” he suggested.
“That’s not very helpful. The symptoms are all over the place. It’s not enough to narrow it down to one toxin, and…” she looked at Gris. “…it’s looking much more likely that it’s a combination.”
“Well, he’s somewhat conscious, he might be able to tell you,” Enjin suggested.
“It’s worth a try,” Gris concurred. “He’s not hallucinating anymore.”
The three turned back to their patient optimistically. Zanka was indeed conscious, but barely.
“Zanka,” Eishia tried. “I wanted to ask you some questions, to help me figure out how to help. Is that okay?
The Cleaner slowly turned to look at her and nodded faintly.
“Do you remember what poison he hit you with?” she asked hopefully.
Zanka stared back at her hazily. Disoriented, he looked up at the ceiling, pondering the question for a minute, then weakly raised three fingers up.
“Three?!” Gris exclaimed in alarm.
“Mhhm,” He nodded weakly. Another shudder ran through him and he shut his eyes tightly, wincing in pain.
“Fuuuck,” Enjin reached for another cigarette.
“Do you remember anything about them? Did he say what they were?” Eishia prodded further.
Zanka paused for a moment before replying, willing himself into consciousness. He raised one finger. “Halluc…hallucin…ogen…”
The healer nodded, pulled out a pad of paper from her coat and started writing down notes.
He raised a second finger. “Neuro..toxin.”
Gris frowned knowingly and crossed his arms. Dammit, based on his personal experience, that one sucked. But, at least they were getting the missing information they were looking for.
Zanka raised a third finger.
“Blub…glub…gluburbly.”
Eishia’s face fell.
“Actually, on second thought, I don’t think you’re going to get anything out of him like this,” Enjin stated.
“I’m sorry, what was the last one?” Eishia tried again hopefully, with a supportive smile.
“Green,” Zanka hissed out in between clenched teeth adamantly. “Bubbly.”
“Sorry Zanka, pal. You’re not making any sense.”
“He’s in pain!” Gris retorted.
“T’was…in the ground,” the injured Giver continued, trying his best to give some kind of info. To be helpful. He blinked slowly, trying to sort his memories out but they were hazy and he couldn’t remember what was real anymore. “Some kinda…acid…”
“Mhm, I see,” Enjin nodded and replied knowingly, then turned back to look at the resident healer. “Well, that doesn’t tell us anything.”
“No…” The youngest Stilza sibling fell silent for a minute, mulling over the notepad before responding. “It helps. Somewhat.”
Gris raised an eyebrow.
“But…” She lowered her voice. “It’s not good news.”
“Explain.”
Beside them, Zanka fell back onto the bed and curled up again, shaking uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around his body and let out a low whine.
“Typically, hallucinogens are not lethal. A common side effect of drugs that cause hallucinations, like mushrooms or toad venom, is nausea. He isn’t hallucinating anymore, and the nausea has passed. It’s likely that one has run its course.”
“He puked it out, you mean,” Enjin confirmed deadpan.
Eishia nodded. Gris rolled his eyes.
“Yes…The neurotoxin is probably the one we are already familiar with: the one that Jabber used on Gris and everyone last time.” The healer explained further. “Based on what you all experienced last time, it doesn’t last very long. He can move now…so that one has also passed through his system. It’s also not lethal. That just leaves…”
“The mystery bubbly acid,” Enjin scowled and put his hands in his pockets.
Gris ran his hand through his hair and sighed deeply. Eishia nodded.
“Yes. The one we don’t know anything about.”
They turned back toward the bed.
“It burns…” Zanka moaned softly.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Eishia picked up another washcloth and dipped it into the bowl of cold water. She brought it over and changed out the towel on his forehead with the new, cooler one.
Zanka felt the cool cloth on his forehead and closed his eyes. It did nothing to alleviate the burning sensation running through his veins but at least it gave him something else to focus on for a brief moment.
Grim-faced, Gris glanced at the heartrate monitor still beeping insistently. Beside him, Enjin voiced what they were all thinking.
“How do we know that one isn’t leth—”
“We don’t,” Gris growled.
“And there’s nothing we can do to draw it out of his system?”
“No…” Eishia shook her head and stared at the floor solemnly. “I need to get the blood samples analyzed as soon as possible. At least now I know what to look for,” she explained. “I’ll ask grandmother for help.”
Oh. So there’s really nothing they could do. Well, fuck.
Zanka listened in, overhearing bits and pieces, but it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain. The pounding in his head intensified.
“Eishia…” He uttered, his breathing heavy and uneven. “I think it’s getting worse.”
The healer turned back to him, frowning.
His breathing was getting more erratic, more shallow. He stared up at her with wide eyes.
“It’s going to be okay,” She repeated, trying to reassure him.
“How do you know?” Zanka retorted, curling up tighter. “You don’t even know…what it is.”
Eishia scowled and took a step back.
Zanka squeezed his eyes tightly and bit his lip. All he knew was it felt like his body was on fire and it was not getting any better. The burning only felt like it was getting worse. He clutched his arms tightly around himself. It felt like the acid was coursing through his veins and melting him from the inside.
What if it did?
Errant thoughts raced through his head. He didn’t know what that poison was. Eishia didn’t know what it was. Fuck, Jabber likely didn’t know what the hell it was, neither.
Who knows, maybe it did melt your organs from the inside out? That would be just his luck…
He whined. It BURNED. Breathing was getting really difficult and he struggled to draw breath.
“He’s panicking,” he heard a female voice say.
Maybe it would melt his veins and turn his insides to slush. How the hell would he know? It certainly felt like it was. Shit.
He really didn’t want to go out this way. That would be...unacceptable. SHIT.
“I don’t…I don’t wanna die,” he whimpered feverishly.
“I know,” he heard someone say. Enjin? “You’re not going to.”
He sounded so sure.
“How do you know?” Zanka repeated again, shivering intensely.
Enjin sighed. Gris had his arms crossed and was giving him a pointed look. Eishia looked down at the ground dejectedly. They didn’t know. But they had to believe that it was going to get worse before it was going to get better, right? The alternative was…not worth thinking about.
The Akuta leader sat down on the cot and reached for his teammate’s hand, peeling it away from his body and holding it firmly in his grasp. Zanka squeezed his hand reflexively as another wave of pain washed over him.
“Because I know you, and you’re not going to let that happen.”
Zanka stared back at him in a daze.
Enjin glanced back at Eishia. There was nothing the rest of them could do. All he could do is…
“So here is your new assignment: Don’t let it kill you. You still have things you need to do, right?”
The younger Cleaner’s blue eyes widened slightly. He nodded and looked down at Enjin’s hand in his.
His leader nodded in return and gave his hand a small squeeze.
“You’ll just have to grin and bear it for a while until you get better. Wish I had better news for you, but I don’t,” Enjin frowned. “Sorry, that’s just the life you chose when you joined us, dumbass.”
Ain’t that the truth.
Zanka shut his eyes tightly, riding through another wave of agony that coursed through his body.
Just another battle, huh?
The young Akuta member grit his teeth.
Guess he could do that.
For just a little while longer.
He let out a long, shuddering breath, and willed himself to try to regain control of his breathing.
Enjin pulled up a chair and settled in by his teammates side, taking the younger Cleaner’s hand in his again as he fought through the effects of the poison. Eishia checked all his vitals again and noted down the rest of the symptoms. Gris left to check on the rest of the Akuta members, and once the healer was done, she headed over to join him.
Enjin remained.
Time passed slowly. Zanka focused on his breathing, trying to slide into a meditative state, but it did little to ease the burning sensation in his veins. The pain from the toxin persisted with seemingly no end in sight.
Enjin yawned. Outside, the sun had set, replaced by the darkness of the night. The Akuta team’s leader was indeed exhausted, having come directly to the infirmary after the ordeal with the trash beast. He yawned again.
Not long after, Gris came up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder. The Akuta team leader stood up and Gris took his place on the chair by the bedside. Enjin paused at the door, fixing his injured teammate with one last lingering stare before heading out to check on the rest of his team.
“Hey, Zanka. You holding up okay?” the Supporter asked cautiously.
Zanka stared up at Gris feverishly through half-lidded eyes. He nodded weakly.
Gris reached over and took the now warm cloth from his forehead and dipped it into the bowl of cool water on the bedside table before placing it back on his head. The Cleaner closed his eyes appreciatively, welcoming the cool sensation.
“Still hurting, huh?”
Zanka shuddered.
The Supporter settled in to watch over him quietly.
When the clock hit 11 pm, Tomme walked in to relieve him. The Supporters took turns, making sure someone was always there. Eishia came and went throughout the evening, checking his vitals every half hour in between working on the blood samples.
It was around two or three am when the pain eased up and he finally passed out.
.
..
.
It was quite late into the morning when he finally regained consciousness. He awoke with a pounding headache and an intense thirst that didn’t quite go away, no matter how much water Eishia offered him. His stomach was tender and his whole body felt weak, but the burning pain was gone.
Eishia took another blood sample. After running a few tests and making sure most of the toxins were gone from his bloodstream, she finally administered some painkillers and antibiotics to prevent infection.
Zanka drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the rest of the day.
Eishia shooed away any visitors. He needed time to heal, so she did her best to give him time to sleep uninterrupted.
Identifying the toxins was proving to be harder than she had anticipated. She had reached out to Grandma Alice and sent over a blood sample for her to help analyze, but it would take some time. If they could trust what their patient told her in his delirious state, then they had the added complexity of parsing out three different poisons from his blood and trying to identify each one of them. Not an easy task.
Even if it was too late to help Zanka, identifying the Raider’s poisons would mean they could keep antivenom on hand in case of another encounter. At least, that is what she had proposed to Enjin and he agreed outright.
The day came and went. By the evening, Zanka was somewhat lucid and managed to eat some solid food. Another round of medication, and he had no trouble passing out again and sleeping through the entire night.
.
..
.
By the second morning, he was finally feeling more clear-headed and awake. His stomach still ached where he was stabbed but it was manageable. His headache was mostly gone leaving him with an empty, fuzzy feeling in his brain. The exhaustion remained. Eishia came to check on him not long after he woke up and even brought him some breakfast which he picked at with little enthusiasm. His appetite will return, the healer reassured him and gave him more antibiotics. The important part was getting enough water and not moving around too much.
So he opted for meditating.
The point of meditation was to clear his mind. To not think. But it wasn’t coming easy this time. Fragments of memories from the battle surfaced in his mind’s eye, distracting him, and he grasped on to them unconsciously. Mindlessly. He was supposed to acknowledge the thoughts surfacing and then let them go, but he couldn’t help it. Instead, he just replayed the fight over and over in his mind.
What went wrong?
What could he have done differently?
Why did he lose?
In the end, he always came to the same conclusion:
He was not strong enough.
He needs to get better.
Zanka sighed. The door opening broke him out of his trance. He glanced up in alarm as Enjin burst through the door.
Did Eishia even let him in here?
“Hey, you’re awake!” the blond greeted him cheerfully.
He tried not to look like a deer in the headlights as his team leader approached his bedside. Shit. He probably looked like crap.
“Eishia said you slept through the whole day yesterday. Feeling any better now?”
“Better,” he replied cautiously.
Enjin looked him over appraisingly, and he shifted uneasily under his watchful gaze.
“Well, you don’t look like death anymore,” he stated softly, voice suddenly taking on a more serious tone. He paused for a moment. “You gave us quite the scare.”
“…” Zanka looked down at his lap uncomfortably but didn’t respond.
Enjin observed his reaction intently.
“Was anyone else injured?” The teen asked after a few moments. Enjin shook his head in response.
“Not seriously,” he responded, noting his teammate’s response. ‘Not as bad as you were’ was left unspoken.
“Good,” Zanka replied but his body language said otherwise. He was clearly on guard. The younger Cleaner gripped the bedsheets tightly. His expression remained blank. Clearly, it bothered him. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about it. Enjin sighed and redirected the conversation.
“Guess I should fill you in.”
The younger Giver perked up, straightening up a little to listen.
“Turns out we were in a giant trash beast— a flying trash beast!” Enjin explained excitedly. “The leader of the Raiders had this big plan to cross the border with it—Just to see what happens, or some shit. Thankfully we destroyed the core before we got that far.”
“People die if they cross the border, right?”
“Everyone ‘except Rudo,” Enjin nodded. “Shame, it could have been his ticket out of here.”
Zanka gave him a side-eye.
“The kid didn’t want it. Exhausted himself helping us get to the core. The whole thing disintegrated as soon as we wrecked it,” he recounted. “Guita got us out of there. It was pretty fucking awesome, actually!”
“Sounds like it.”
“You really don’t remember anything?”
“…” Zanka frowned, trying to remember. “Nothing...”
“Ahhh that’s a shame. Seeing Guita’s vital instrument in action is always a treat.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Hmmm…Riyo found you.” Enjin pried, “Do you remember any of that?”
“No.”
Darn.
Enjin paused for a moment. “…Do you remember after? After we got back?”
“Bits and pieces,” he looked away sheepishly, blushing. He did remember some, even though his memory was fuzzy and it was difficult to parse reality from whatever his feverish brain conjured up while he was hallucinating. But the memories that floated up to the surface were not exactly dignified: Throwing up…a lot. A burning sensation in his veins. Pain, so much pain. Curling up in a fetal position and thinking he was going to die…
Yeah, not the kind of memories he wanted to revisit. He wrapped his arms around his stomach instinctively.
But also…he also remembered a cool cloth on his forehead. He remembered that every time he opened his eyes, there was a familiar face by his side, with gentle and kind words telling him everything was going to be fine. He remembered a warm hand holding his tightly.
Zanka bit his lip. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and he blinked them away.
“I…ahh…I remember getting’ an assignment,” he looked up at his leader with a soft smile. “I didn’t die.”
Enjin smiled back. “Knew you wouldn’t.” You stubborn bastard.
“Thank you,” the younger Cleaner acknowledged quietly. “That helped.” A lot.
“That’s my job,” Enjin sighed. “What are you going to do now?”
“This…this was a wake up call, Enjin,” Zanka scowled. I think I needed one. “Just ‘nother reminder not to get too complacent.”
Enjin listened intently.
“The way things are going, somethin’ tells me…it ain’t just trash beasts we’re fightin’ now. We’re gonna run into ‘em again. Raiders. And other Givers…with crazy-ass powers,”
Zanka paralleled what has been on Enjin’s mind the past few days.
“I won’t be caught off guard again,” he asserted with conviction.
“…” his leader gave him a hard look. “Eishia said you’re stuck here for at least another week.”
Zanka shook his head. “Three days.”
“Zanka…”
“Five days, tops.”
“Tch,” Enjin rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man. Don’t come crying to me if you bust your stitches open while training.”
Zanka pouted. “Won’t be a problem.”
“Just get some rest, okay?” He instructed, big brother mode activating, and ruffled his teammate’s hair.
The teen cringed and looked away awkwardly.
“Anyways, I’ll see ya later. I’m taking the kid and we’re heading out to get some supplies.”
As if on cue, Eishia came back and the Akuta leader made a hasty exit, but not before grabbing a note from the resident healer with a list of medicines to purchase.
Eishia turned her attention to her patient. She did a quick check-up and, with Zanka’s insistence, helped him stand up from the bed. The stitches pulled at his skin, but he was able to walk a lap around the room on his own after a few minutes. Satisfied with the progress of his recovery, she made a few notes. With the poison cleared out of his system, it was just the stab wound that he needed to be mindful of to make sure it healed properly. It was just a matter of keeping it clean and not doing anything to aggravate it.
So, he was still confined to the medical ward. But (with minimal help from Gris), he managed to shower and change from the hospital gown to his own clothes. Once eishia re-wrapped the wound, Zanka was left alone again.
The day passed by lazily.
The sun just started to set when he heard commotion at the door and a terrified-looking Remiln was dragged into the room by a very angry-faced mayor of Canvas town. Enjin followed behind them with Rudo in tow. Zanka watched the group shuffle in with a mix of annoyance and mild curiosity. Was the kid carrying flowers? Why?
Whatever chaos was about to ensue, it was a welcome reprieve from the monotony of sitting around in bed all day.
Yup, this was going to be interesting.