“..siht’h, Vasiht’h, wake up.”
Wisps of dreams clung to him: lights on water, shimmering; orange eyes bent over him, alien but familiar; the knowledge that he wasn’t alone. Vasiht’h blinked several times, found himself sitting next to the pallet with the Asanii. Who was… still breathing. He looked up and found Kristyl crouched next to him, her light brown hair tied back in a messy tail and hollows under her eyes. She looked awful, but: “It’s over. It’s time to go.”
“Really?” he asked, unable to believe it, but people were walking into the room, people in medical uniforms, with real stretchers. “We can leave?”
“Pads are open again,” Kristyl said. “First destination’s the hospital and you need it for your wing, so let’s go.”
“I guess… but these people…”
“They’ll go through too, and first,” she said. “You’re ambulatory so you’ll have to wait on them.” She glanced at him, lifted her brows. “You are ambulatory, right? Or are you stuck that way?”
“No, I can stand.” To leave this place, Vasiht’h would pry his legs up with his hands if necessary. He rose, working the kinks from his back legs, and gently set the Asanii’s hand on her breast before saying, “All right, lead the way.” He paused. “You’re coming with me?”
“I’m hoping…” She hesitated, then shrugged. “I know it’s a long shot, but.”
Of course. “I could use the company.” He thought of Mercy and shuddered. “I don’t like hospitals.”
Kristyl glanced at him with a frown. And then shared a lopsided smile with him. “I’ll protect you then. Come on.”
Together they made their way back to the main room, where the staff members were corralling the guests into columns based on the urgency of their situations. Vasiht’h, with his injury, went into one of the lines waiting to move after the stretchers went. He was all too willing to let them go first, searching the pallets as they were carried past between jogging emergency medical assists for the Asanii whose hand he’d been holding. She was the second one through, and he exhaled, raising his gaze to search for the Tam-illee from last night. Had he noticed? And yes, the todfox was standing next to one of the columns, his eyes locked on the stream of evacuees with a look of profound relief.
“All right, your turn,” someone said, and Vasiht’h’s line started moving. “Go on through and register at the desk, they’ll check you in.”
‘Register at the desk’ turned out to be optimistic advice. Vasiht’h stepped over the Pad and into a chaotic tangle of reuniting families and agitated new admissions. Kristyl wrapped a hand around his upper arm and steered him out of the way of a crash embrace between two Tam-illee, and somehow they made it to someone in uniform, who was scribbling on a data tablet as fast as the people dictating information to him could speak. “Here!” Kristyl called. “Another one!”
“What’s wrong?” the med tech asked him.
“Broken wing. Maybe ribs? I don’t know about that part.”
“Breathing all right? Can you inhale all the way? Any stabbing pains?”
“Yes, yes, no, but it aches.”
“And a broken wing… that’s a quick fix. As soon as we free up a bed for you, we’ll have you back, alet. Name?”
“Vasiht’h.”
“Thank you.”
“Now we just have to find a place to sit….” Kristyl trailed off and smiled. “At least this is a much better place to wait than we were before.”
And… it was, despite it being a hospital, because the number of people finding one another was heartening. Vasiht’h watched two more reunions as the stream from Serenity Isle continued flowing, and he was so distracted by the relief of just being here, and the storm being over, that he didn’t realize….
…that he could taste coffee…
He licked his teeth and reached, tentatively for the mindline. /Arii?/
/Vasiht’h!/
Vasiht’h sat upright so fast he pulled against his splint and hissed. /What are you doing so close! Aren’t you in orbit?/
Tension in the mindline now, an impending urgency. Sounds of people talking. Bootsteps snapping against tile. Vasiht’h frowned, processing the lurching of it, looked up… and found the Eldritch on the other side of the room. The Glaseah rose to his paws, stunned. What was he… why wasn’t he on the…
Jahir strode across the room, and everyone around him flowed out of his way, such was his presence—Vasiht’h could only admire this sudden air of command—and then his Eldritch was in front of him, on one knee, and had taken one of his hands and pressed it against his chest where Vasiht’h could feel his heart racing under the thin medical uniform.
Was he blushing? He was. The Eldritch cupped Vasiht’h’s cheek, those long fingers gentle against his fur. The skin under it was hot and he didn’t even know why: gratification? Abashment? Pleasure?
…Tsera Nova. Your seaside destination for joy
Vasiht’h exhaled, eyes welling. Yes. That.
“You live,” Jahir breathed, brushing his thumb against the Glaseah’s cheek just under the eye. “Arii.”
“A little beat up,” Vasiht’h began, and when he felt the frantic searching in the mindline, “Not seriously! They even told me I had to wait for a bed. It’s just a broken wing. I’m more scared and shaken than seriously hurt.” He squared his shoulders and tried for sternness despite his watery tone. “But why are you here! You were supposed to be safe, out of the way, on the station!”
“Did you think I could tarry there when I heard this news?” Jahir’s eyes widened. “To have the atmosphere between us was intolerable. I had to find you.”
“Wow,” Kristyl said from beside him. “And I wondered why you had all this fairy tale stuff happen to you. He acts like a fairy tale.”
Startled, Jahir looked over at her.
“That’s Kristyl,” Vasiht’h said, smiling. “The human I’ve been telling you about.”
“Not Gladiolus’s Kristyl,” Jahir said, astonished.
“Yes?” the human answered.
Jahir rose. “Come, now.”
“Do you mean…”
But Jahir was already walking so Vasiht’h hurried after him. Even so, Kristyl beat him to the Eldritch’s side. By the time Jahir was calling down the hallway, the human was in front of him and they both had a perfect vantage for the sight of the human and her Asanii friend rushing into one another’s embrace.
/That’s exactly what I needed,/ Vasiht’h said with a glad sigh.
Jahir eyed him. /You hurt when you breathe./
/It’s probably nothing. Triaged already, remember?/
/Injuries to the chest cavity can be serious and subtle—/
Vasiht’h chuckled tiredly. /Then I’m in the right place for it to go terribly wrong, right?/ The mindline surged with horror, sour and edged with scalpels, and he held up his hands, wincing. “Sorry! Sorry, I spoke before I thought. Or, I thought before I could think better of it. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
The prickle in the mindline smoothed down again. Jahir glanced at him, his smile faint. “I know. None of this was supposed to have happened.”
“And yet, life does. And accidents too.” Vasiht’h shifted on his paws, grimacing. “I do ache, though. Sit with me until they call me back?”
“And after.”
“Always after,” Vasiht’h said.