My back touches the cool chair, I watch Rebecca calmly enter, setting her suitcase down on the counter beside me.
"Alright! How are you doing Y/N?" She peeks over at me, watching my reaction.
"Fine, I'm doing fine." I lied.
"So, these tests are gonna take quite some time. Some are painless but some are painful, are you okay with continuing?" Rebecca states, making sure she has everything, including documents.
"Yeah, I think I'm ready." I lied again.
"Good. I'll start you off with the less painful." She sets up, flipping my arm over, revealing a vein. "Good, your veins are easy to access." I nod, as she cleans the area, the needle sliding through.
As I wait for the blood to be taken, I start examining her supplies. Syringes, needles, god what have I gotten myself into. These tests they're not normal physical protocols. She slides the needle out, and continues.
"I'm gonna ask you again, how are you?" Is she trying to distract me?
"I said I was fine—"
"No you aren't, I can smell the alcohol." My expression gives away my thoughts, I turn my head away in defeat. "So, I'll ask one more time...Y/N." She grabs my attention with the serious tone of my name. "How are you?"
"Honestly, I think I'm at the worst part of my life." Her brows furrow, I click my tongue. "I drown myself in alcohol to forget everything, to feel numb, it the first time I'm sober today."
"Then why do I smell alcohol?" She raises a brow as she prepares for another test.
"I said im sober, not that I didn't drink." She cracks a smile, I do the same feeling comfort form the small, simple but effective conversation.
The whole day tests were done, the pain was astonishing but I felt worse, much worse. I kept tapping my leg, fingers, anything to take my mind off this whole thing. The last thing to do was wait for the results.
My eyes glued to the clock, hearing the ticks barley move, it kept me sane.
The three knocks is what kept me here.
"So some of the tests won't be ready until a few days from now, but I'll tell you what I have here." She leans herself on the counter, eyes focused on the words likes she's entranced. "Your virus is totally gone, something must've made it disperse and created an anti-body in your immune system."
"How?!" She shrugs. "Then why do I still have the color—"
"The color were not sure of, but it seems like you used the last of the virus before it was too late. Even if it was in active since you resisted blood, pausing your a automatic heal, in your tissues." I shake my head, trying to take it all in. "You're human again."
"Doesn't make sense, I got injected with a paralyzer, not a cure." As she flips another page, she finds the spot she was looking for.
"It seemed stronger, it even stopped another virus forming in your body." I freeze, scared...another virus was forming? "It was the same one Jill had."
"Oh my god."
"That's all I have for you today." She closes the file, and grabs everything. "Do you need me to escort you?"
"No-no, thank you for everything. I needed this, really." I nod, she surprises me with a hug.
"Keep fighting." Confusingly I listened, as she quickly sprinted away from me. She hid her face, it made me concerned, was she upset or disappointed?
Rebecca left in a hurry, after a few seconds go by I make my exit as well. Giving space for the both of us. As I walk to the lobby, I notice the bandages on my arm, knowing how many needles poked me endlessly. I arrive to the counter, setting up insurance, necessities, and making another appointment. My eyes focus on my file seeing a familiar name.
"Sherry Birkin?" I ask, pointing at her name.
"Yes, she's a regular here, works part-time as well—do you know her?" I open my mouth to speak, stopping myself in case I give out any private information.
"Yeah, I've know her for a while, Im happy to see that she's doing good." She nods, and slides me a clipboard, empty lines that need signatures. "Thank you." My right hand grabs the pen, as my left hold the paper down, I wince from the pain. It's still healing.
"Thank you and I hope you're feeling better next time." I give a weak smile, and drag myself out of there, feeling the cool glass against my palm, where my scar is still visible.