The next couple of weeks passed much faster. Luke still set aside a few hours to wait at the hospital every day. He hated seeing so many people he knew in bandages or strapped down onto beds, but waiting to hear the news second-hand felt worse somehow.
After a while they stopped letting Adam or Jess pass, making comments to one another discreetly about how strange it was for them to hang around a hospital for so long. Luke noticed very few of these comments were ever aimed at him.
Eventually the others had grudgingly agreed to hear the news from him instead, with Luke promising to keep looking for any other violations he could use against them, but until then he just had to wait it out,
Most days he wouldn't hear anything. He'd wait by the reception for hours, but even if anyone came to him, they generally wouldn't have anything else to say.
After a month or so, they'd started to sit security guards closer to where he stood in the waiting room. He realised he didn't have many more visits left before they declared him a threat too, but he forced himself not to care. He had to keep the others updated. It was the least he could do.
On this occasion, he'd sat a little further from the door, just to see if any security guards would follow him. They always did, usually not even trying to be discreet about it.
Sitting back, he tried to ignore them, feeling more and more uncomfortable the longer he waited.
He heard the door open and turned around to see who it was, and for a moment, he didn't recognise her. He looked her up and down, taking in her appearance.
She didn't look good.
Half of her body was bandaged, but what he could see of her skin was pale, causing the freckles on her arms, legs and face to look like scabs. Her tangled, red hair was loose for once, and she was moving slightly slower than she used to, as if every step hurt her.
She stared at him for a few long seconds, before quietly saying, "What happened to your face?"
"Yours is worse," he replied, guarding his expression.
"Thanks." She looked down at her left arm, which was heavily bandaged and hung oddly by her side, before straightening up slightly. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, we had to see if you died or not."
"Well, I didn't." She smiled. It seemed painful for her. "So... Am I free to go, then?"
"Once we've taken the bandages off." The nurse touched her other arm and she flinched, but her expression didn't change. The nurse didn't seem to notice, and continued, "Although, quite frankly, I think some fresh air would do you good."
"It's February," Luke replied.
Quinn raised her eyebrows, looking almost impressed. "Damn, two months?"
"I'll give you an hour, then hopefully she'll be ready to leave." The nurse gave him a painfully fake smile. "A friend of hers?"
Quinn grimaced at him, before smiling. "Yeah, he's cool."
The nurse beamed at him, showing off perfectly straight, square teeth, before leading Quinn into a small corridor and out of view. When she did, Luke sat down and propped open a month-old newspaper, trying to focus only on the columns and not on anything else.
He read it from cover to cover without taking in anything. His mind was wandering. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
With nothing else to do, he asked the receptionist for permission to use one of the computers which were laid out in the waiting room. The man nodded, warning him not to use any personal accounts. Luke had agreed and sat down at the desk, concentrating on that instead.
Just as he had finished printing off some documents, he heard someone call him. He looked up to see Quinn had re-emerged, looking slightly less exhausted, but still pale. The bandages had mostly been removed, but he could see purple bruises and scars lining her arms.
Standing up, he finished folding the document up and shoved it into his pocket. "What did they say?"
"I'm good to go. Finally." She glanced back at the nurse who was accompanying her, who nodded. "Why? Were you worried?"
Luke sighed. "Obviously I was," he replied. "Did they tell you that you were declared legally dead for ten minutes?"
"Oh yeah," she smiled reminiscently. "I went to hell those ten minutes."
Luke stopped for a moment. "Really?"
"Yeah. But I thought, what would my good friend Luke do, and I submitted a form to say that there had been an administrative error," her voice took on a stuffy register, "and before you know it, I was straight back down."
Luke stared at her for a few seconds, so she punched his shoulder lightly. "I'm kidding. Jesus Christ, what's the matter with you?"
"You almost died. I was worried," he replied.
"Aw, you were?" She laughed and patted his shoulder, over the fabric of his sleeve. He noticed she did it slightly awkwardly, and remembered she used to be left-handed. Her left arm was still hanging limp at her side, bandaged more heavily than any other part of her body. She didn't seem to notice anything. "Come on Michaels, don't get soft on me now."
He grinned. "Stop it, I have a reputation to keep."
The nurse opened the door and Quinn hurried out, inhaling deeply. "You see that?" She beamed. "Fresh air. God, I've missed it."
Luke nodded. "Yeah, air, good. Can you tell me what happened in there? I mean, the explosion didn't look too big."
She hesitated, taking a step back. "Okay, just so you know, I was panicking, right?"
"What did you do?"
Quinn frowned, evidently regretting saying anything. "I... Well, remember the guy you messaged on your clipboard, right before it got blown up? I met him. He gave me a gun."
Luke raised his eyebrows, but he didn't interrupt.
"He told me to shoot him, for some experiment thing. But... I don't think he wanted me to. I don't know what he wanted."
"What did you do with it?" Luke replied slowly.
"Well, I saw a fuse box and I shot the lock to make a hole, and then I..." She trailed off, glancing around her to check nobody was listening.
"You what?"
"I stuck my arm in and pulled the wires out by hand." She said loudly.
Luke stared at her for a few long seconds, not replying. Nothing really conveyed what he wanted to say short of a frustrated scream. Eventually he broke the silence. "While you were holding a gun?"
She shrugged.
"A gun which could have been used to shoot the wires," he continued.
Quinn shrugged again, evidently waiting for him to respond.
Luke kept his expression guarded, and dully replied, "Sometimes I wonder how you're able to walk and talk at the same time."
"Give me a break. A zombie guy gave me a gun and told me to blow his brains out, I panicked. Anyway, it was the fastest way to shut everything down."
Luke gave her a funny look but bit back his retort. "Well, it was very brave of you," he managed, reminding himself that she was already in enough pain. "Very brave and completely irrational."
"That's the closest I'm gonna get to a complement, isn't it?"
"Don't push it." Luke glanced down the street before crossing the road. Quinn followed him, still stumbling slightly when she walked. "So... Do you remember it all?"
She nodded stiffly. "Yeah, don't you?"
"Not all of it. These things mess with your head, and everything I can remember comes in waves. As far as we can tell, you're the only one who has the full story." He paused and they walked a few paces in silence. "I think the advice is to talk about it with people you trust."
Quinn looked at the concrete beneath her feet and didn't reply for a moment. Then she looked up. "I don't want to have everyone asking me about it. It was pretty messed up. I learned way more about what a corpse looks like than I wanted to. And everyone has just gotten all friendly again, right? We don't need people to learn who gave who what scars." She seemed to become a little dazed by the memory and grimaced as if something was giving her a headache. "You did good, though. It was very honourable. Very heroic. I should probably be thanking you."
"That's really not necessary," he replied, not particularly keen to remember anything else about what had happened. "Things are surreal enough as it is."
"Okay, you're a prick." She grinned. "Does that work?"
"Language." Then he remembered something. He felt inside his pocket for the square sheets he'd folded neatly before leaving. "Oh, also, I got you a present."
Quinn gave him a look. "You did?"
"Oh yeah." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sheet of paper which he'd printed out while he'd been in the waiting room.
Emblazoned across it were several tiny targets, a few inches wide. "You can put them on the wall if the targets aren't small enough. So you don't have to draw on the walls like a two-year-old."
Quinn took it from him and stared at it, then looked back to him. "I hate you."
"That's fair," he replied.
. . .
Eventually they came back to his house. Adam and Jess were sat at the table, apparently having been deep in conversation. As soon as they heard the door open, they looked up.
Adam stood up and took a tentative step forward, clearly wondering if he was hallucinating. "Oh my god."
"Not quite." She smiled at him. "Good to see you, Addie."
"You're... Very messy." Jess spoke up, evidently noticing the wounds which were still visible. "Do you need to sit down?"
"I've been lying down for like two months, so I'm good." She tilted her head slightly. "I'm hungry, though. It'd be great to eat something that's not through a tube."
"I'll go see if we have anything in," Luke said hastily.
"Nope." Quinn gave him a disgusted look and turned to Jess. "I just got out of hospital. Can you go with him and make sure nobody gets poisoned?"
"I will do that, but if he was planning on poisoning anyone, I would probably assist him," Jess replied calmly. Then her eyes went wide. "Are those jokes okay now?"
Adam glanced over at Quinn, who gave her a thumbs up. Luke smiled at him reassuringly and the two of them left the room.
"You told him, right?" Quinn whispered, once she was sure they were out of earshot.
Adam shifted his weight slightly. "Well, t-technically he told me."
"Called it." She beamed at him. "So what are you guys now? I mean, are you dating?" Adam didn't reply, so she tried again. "When did you guys get together?"
"A few weeks ago." He replied, shaking his head. "I-I thought you didn't care about this stuff."
"Hey, I'll watch the movie, I just won't star in it," she replied. "I want details."
"Well, you aren't going to get them."
"Damn it. I always miss this stuff." She pulled a chair out and sat down in it. "So what happened? Last thing I remember was the explosion."
Adam hesitated. "Well, everyone collapsed... A-And then they woke up. I wish I had more details, really, b-but I don't remember. But they all helped each other up. So many people refused to leave until they found out if all their loved ones were okay too."
"What do you remember?"
"Like I said, I woke up. I was... I was like Michelangelo painting the Sistene Chapel."
Quinn wrinkled her nose. "What?"
"Gay and horizontal."
She stared at him for a second, before pulling him into a hug. "I missed you so much, buddy."
Adam froze, not sure how to react, then resorted to patting her shoulder awkwardly. Then he overcame the confusion and hugged her back. "I missed you too..."
He noticed her wince slightly when they broke apart, but didn't bring it up. She wouldn't thank him for it.
"So, so what happened to you? You know, after we all... Left..."
She looked down at the table and picked up the sketchpad which Jessie had been drawing on. "Don't remember anything specific."
She opened it up and looked over the pages, glancing over the pictures. Adam could see it when she turned the pages. Sometimes there were attempts at drawings, mostly it was just dark smears of colour. She didn't look up for a few seconds, and he realised the conversation was all but over.
Standing up, he went over to the shelf and picked up the spraybottle. There was still a few drops left. "Your face is bleeding, d-do you want to just clean that up?"
She smiled and shook her head. "I'm fine. It only hurts when I breathe." After a hesitant pause, she took it anyway and started to rub it into the cut on her forehead. She didn't flinch.
Adam nodded slowly, and at that point the others returned, Jess holding a plate of sandwiches.
Quinn took one and glanced at the clock on the wall. "What time is it now?"
"I don't know, maybe eight? Why?" Luke replied.
"I should really be getting back," She said, taking another sandwich and slinging her coat over her shoulders, not letting it cover her injured arm.
Jess stared at her, her nose wrinkling up. "Are you tired?"
"Yeah, kind of. I just want to sleep in my own bed again, to be honest. No offence." She glanced at Luke.
"None taken," he replied.
Jessie hastily stood up to help her put her coat on over her arm. "Do you want anyone to walk back to your home with you?"
"Jesus, I hurt my arm, I can still walk down a street," She snapped. Jessie flinched away, dropping the coat and scrambling immediately to pick it up.
Her expression softened. "I'm sorry. It's just... The worst part about all this is everyone acting like I'm made of glass or something. I'm fine, okay?"
"I just thought, my route is yours now, but longer," Jessie said quickly. "I walk near your house when I walk to my house, but it's safe now, it's all safe, so it's... Really up to you..."
Quinn sighed and glanced at Adam, who nodded at her. "Sure."
"Okay, okay, okay, okay..." Jessie mumbled, picking up her pencils and sketchpad. She carried them carefully, like they were worth more than anything else to her. They probably were.
Adam followed them to the door, and once they got there Quinn waited for a few seconds, as if expecting him to follow her.
He didn't.
She raised her eyebrows slightly, but thankfully didn't say anything.
"Call me if you need anything, okay?" He said, trying hard not to focus on the scars that still adorned her face.
"Course I will," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
Adam managed to smile. "S-Sure."
She grinned at him and left. He watched her go, still limping slightly but trying as hard as she could to hide it. But it wasn't as bad as he'd thought. She'd survive it. They'd all survived. He had to be grateful for that.
Running his hand through his hair, he closed the door, shutting the street out of view.
That night, he had another dream, but it was different somehow. He dreamt he was in a small, dark room, completely alone. He could hear someone talking to him, but he didn't recognise the voice. It sounded like him, but off, like someone else using his vocal chords.
He managed to make out the words, despite not being able to see who was talking.
"They think we've finished. I know. But we haven't. It's never over. It wasn't over a hundred years ago and it won't end now. The old man is dead, but that doesn't change anything. He was just the catalyst for something else, something bigger than they can possibly comprehend. So you just enjoy your borrowed time, but when they leave you, when he leaves you out in the cold, I'll still be here. I'll never leave you. We're gonna have so much fun."
He shook his head and covered his ears, and the sound drowned out. He opened his eyes and the voice disappeared. It didn't have any power over him anymore. He was, and always had been, the one in control. And he'd never forget that.
Lying back in his bed, he went back to sleep.