"Stay very still," the technician says over the speaker. Emma closes her eyes and steadies her breathing. The flat bench vibrates then begins moving back. She can her the circle around her spinning. The process repeats a couple of times before she's allowed out.
It's already been a long morning. It took almost an hour of waiting before she gets to see the doctor. Then, another hour in a different waiting room for a CT scan. By the time she's back in her mother's car, she's ready for a nap. Emma's let her mother handle scheduling the doctor's appointments. It's not like she has anywhere to be, or anything to do. A full week hadn't even passed since she came home.
"It's a moderate head injury," the doctor says after greeting them. "I'm estimating that you lost consciousness for around 30 minutes, but I haven't heard anything from the other hospital about it."
"They haven't said anything else to us," Kay says.
"I understand that you don't remember the injury happening, correct?" Emma nods. "What do you remember from before? How much time passed?"
"I know that I was walking back to my dorm, but I don't remember doing it. I just know that I was."
"Well, most people are back to their normal selves at six months. If you have any symptoms after six months we'll give it a year. After a year, that's when we'll start considering that it might be permanent."
"What symptoms could last?" Her mother asks as if she hadn't sat on her phone all morning reading about them.
"My biggest concerns are always fatigue and irritability. Those usually go hand in hand with each other. If one stays the other probably will too," she explains. "For now, headaches, cognitive impairment, light sensitivity... That stuffs pretty obvious now. But, the fatigue and mood swings, that sort of sneaks up on a lot of people."
"What should we be doing?" Emma rolls her eyes at her mom's question. We? Since when did Kay have a head injury?
"I want you taking it easy for the next three months. That means no school, no exercising, no standing for long periods of time. No driving for at least two weeks. I trust your mom to make a final call on that."
"I don't have a car," Emma says.
"Most importantly, keep your stress levels down. When people's symptoms get worse it's usually because they're stressed. I would keep track of how you're feeling day-to-day."
......
Back home, Roman's day-to-day life returns to normal very quickly. He'd only been a few hours late on Monday, but everything else was normal.
Pryce calls him to his office on Thursday. Roman walks with a particular rhythm in his step. Although he doesn't trust Pryce, he needs something from him. He needed to be fed a quickly. Roman knows he's lucky to have access to donated blood, even if it is a limited amount. He could make Pryce give him more but it wouldn't make a difference. It didn't matter. It never seemed to be enough.
It's sitting there on his desk in a clear beaker. The closest thing to ambrosia that Godfrey money could create. Pryce barely gets in a hello before Roman's urgency makes itself down. The doctor carefully picks up the beaker and hands it to him.
He chugs down the chunky liquid without a second thought. It's only when the glass is back on the table his stomach turns. The texture is horrible, and the flavor... The flavor is horrific. It's as if he expected a soda and instead got a poorly flavored seltzer water. A seltzer water with chunks. Pryce watches Roman's face and rushes forward to grab the glass.
"Remember, you still have a fresh comparison," Pryce says. "After a few weeks of synthetic, you won't notice a difference- or much of one."
"I find that hard to believe." Roman fights back the urge to vomit.
"It's still a work in progress, but in time I think it will be revolutionary."
"How long until you can have it ready regularly?"
"Right away, I suppose." Pryce takes a seat. "But it's like wine. The longer you wait the better."
"I can't imagine this getting better, Pryce."
"It will. The flavor will always have that... lightness to it. That oily texture won't go away. It's a compromise. I can, however, promise that in time the larger particles will go away."
"Can't we just- I don't know, strain it."
"Roman," Pryce smiles condescendingly. "That's where the majority of the substance is. If we get rid of it what will be left is mostly water." Roman doesn't respond. "After a few more trials I think I can get the quality of the liquid up. What you have for now is, essentially, a parthenogenesis embryo and amniotic sac smoothie."
"That's unappetizing," Roman shudders.
"So is ripping a human's throat out, but you have to pick your poison." Pryce smiles. "I'll try to come up with a more appealing name, how about that?"
"I'd rather not be reminded of what I'm having."
.....
Another three days pass of lounging around in pajamas. The TV stays warm the pages of the books Dr. Lowenstein lent her a flipped. She's completely off of prescription pain killers, but her head only feels worse with every passing day. It's like a migraine that keeps growing stronger. It's late into the afternoon when a knock at the door disturbs her.
"Hey!" Peter smiles at her once the doors open.
"Hi," Emma replies, stunned. Peter still being here never crossed her mind. She had assumed he came, asked for money, and left. "I didn't know you were here."
"Yeah, I've been staying with Destiny," Peter says. "I work at the auto-shop. It's just until everything with Lynda is settled."
"How is- um- how is she? What's going on?"
"Still in jail." Peter grimaces. "Hopefully not for much longer. We're working on it."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. She's okay."
"She's a tough lady."
"She just keeps saying that she get's 'three hots and a cot,' and not to worry," Peter laughs. "Jails not the worse place she's lived."
"How's Destiny?"
"She's good. She's planning her wedding. You should go see her sometime."
"Why?"
"I don't know. She just said so."
"Interesting..." Emma mumbles then is silent.
"You wanna go get lunch or something?" He asks awkwardly.
"Yeah, sure."
.....
The car ride is silent and so is waiting for the food. Emma doesn't know what to say. There's not really any new news, and bringing up the past seems like a bad idea. She doesn't even want to talk about that. The diner is busy, so the silence isn't too terrible.
The waitress drops their food off without a word and keeps moving. Peter quickly begins to dig into his food, only stopping when he sees Emma struggling to cut her waffle.
Peter grabs the plate from below her hands and begins to cut the waffle apart for her. "Thanks," she says quietly. He hums in response. After he slides the plate back to her, he digs back into his burger.
"What's it like being back home?"
"Awful," she snorts.
"Yeah. It's pretty bad coming back..." Peter trails off. "Me and Roman are going out for drinks later. You can come if you want."
"You guys really made up, huh?" Emma smiles, a bit surprised.
"I wouldn't say that," Peter laughs softly. "It's just... The date, y'know?" Emma shakes her head before she remembers the day.
"Oh, yeah," she says. "That makes sense, I guess." A year. It had been exactly a year since the vargulf had been killed. A year since Christina Wendall had been killed. Time seems to have gotten away from her. A whole year since Olivia had told her to kill Chasseur. A year since Emma almost gave in to that temptation.
"So, do you?"
"Huh?" Emma's drawn from her dark red memories by his voice.
"Do you want to go with us?"
"Oh, no." Emma shakes her head. "I'm good." He doesn't reply, but she can sense that there's something he wants to say. "You can just ask," she says with her mouth full. Peter pretends to look confused. "That's why you came over- Roman. You don't have to dig around it."
"That's not why I came over," Peter admits quietly. "I wanted to ask about your accident."
"What about it?" Emma swallows her bite.
"Did you have any weird premonitions before? Anything seem off?"
"No more than normal." She laughs.
"Roman told me you had seemed paranoid." Emma's face drops.
"I'd been stressed, that's all."
"You told him you felt like you were being watched?"
"Peter, I know what you're thinking."
"What am I thinking?"
"That something happened... Someone did something," she says as she stabs at her plate with her fork. "Nothing happened. I was drunk and walking alone at night. Case closed."
"What if it isn't?" He asks.
"Then so what? I'm fine."
"You easily could have not been," Peter points out. "Head injuries are incredibly dangerous. Are you sure you don't remember anything mo-"
"Yes," she says a bit too loudly. "Everyone keeps asking me that. Why would I lie?"
"I'm not saying your lying but-" He stops. "Who else? Who else is asking?"
"The school, my mom, the detective-" She lists off.
"You've been talking to a detective."
"He came to the hospital-"
"Where's he from?" He cuts her off again.
"Department of Emergency Preparedness or something."
"He's a fed," Peter growls. "What else did he ask?"
"Just what happened. It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal?" He scoffs. "Don't you remember the last time a fed came digging around here?"
"Of course I do," she replies sternly. "I saw that woman with her skin peeled off, you think I can forget?" Peter doesn't answer. "It's not a big deal, Peter."
"It is a big deal," he hisses back. "People are dying, Em. Kids are dying."
"Why? Why are they dying."
"I don't know."
"Well, if you find out how I'm involved you let me know. Other than that, I'm not doing this again. I've gone through enough."
"Destiny wants to see you."
"Why?"
"I don't know, she just told me to pass the message along."
.....
It's not long before her curiosity gets to be too much to ignore. There are two new cars in front of Destiny's apartment when Emma arrives. They're pretty nice- too nice to Destiny. Emma doesn't think too much into it.
A man she's never seen before opens the door when she knocks. He barely cracks it open and looks her up and down suspiciously. He doesn't speak, he only waits. "Is... Is Destiny here?" She struggles to ask.
She's relieved when he opens the door and calls out Destiny's name. She comes out of her "office" with a large mug in hand. She motions for her to come in further. "Hey, take a seat." Emma looks at her then to the man in the room. He seems oddly overprotective and stiff. "This is Andreas'," Destiny explains. "He's my fiancee."
"Oh," Emma says. "It's nice to meet you."
"Andreas," Destiny says when he doesn't reply. "This is Emma, she's a friend of Peter's."
"It's nice to meet you too," he finally greets her. "I'm going to go run some errands and stuff."
He exits the apartment quickly and suspiciously. The strange feeling she had in her gut leaves with him. Destiny can sense her concern and takes a seat across from her. "He's paranoid," she says. "He's wary of strangers. A lot of us are."
"I understand."
"How is it?" Destiny asks and nods towards her arm.
"It doesn't hurt too bad."
"Was it gnarly?"
"I didn't see it." Emma plays with the edge of her cast. "Clean break, though."
"Goddamn," Destiny swears. "You want a drink?"
"I'm fine," Emma declines. "Peter told me to come see you."
"Really?" Destiny smiles. "I figured he wouldn't."
"Why?"
"I pissed him off quite a bit," she says as she opens up a drawer on the side table. "He didn't reply to my text."
"What did you o?" Emma chuckles.
"I told his little girlfriend to not fuck with him." Destiny finishes her sentence with the distinct click of a lighter being lit.
"Peter has a girlfriend?" Emma questions as the smell of weed quickly fills the apartment.
"Not really, no," Destiny says through stifled giggles. "It's that little chick that's staying with Godfrey."
"What about her?" Emma asks, barely able to keep her interest at a normal level. "What's Peter doing with her?"
"He's helping her with her car, apparently." Destiny holds her joint out for Emma to take, but she turns it down.
"Her car's still fucked up?"
"It's taking a long time to track down all the parts," Destiny says sarcastically. "I told him to give me a list and I can have the Amazon Primed here in 48-hours."
"What did you say to her?"
"What she needed to hear." Destiny shrugs. "To not fuck with Peter."
"Peter didn't tell me this," Emma says. "He didn't say that he'd met her, actually."
"Probably didn't want to upset you."
"I don't care," Emma scoffs.
"Sure."
"I don't!" She protests. "I don't like being lied to. Why is that such a hard thing to believe?"
"Emma," Destiny asks for her attention gently. "If he hadn't fucked her would you hate her this much?"
"That would make this very different, yes," she says. "But it's not in a weird jealousy way. It's that she's using him, you have to believe me, Destiny. She's bad news."
"Did you not listen to what I just said? I know she's bad news, that's why I told her to stay the fuck away from Peter. If things go bad with Peter, and they will, he will have his heartbroken. If things go bad with Roman she'll get her throat ripped out. I really don't give a fuck about her throat."
"Throat ripped out, huh?" Emma asks.
"I know you know," Destiny tells her. "I could feel it before I even knew you were here. I can feel a bunch of other stuff going on in there too." She taps her head.
"What did she say back?" Emma asks.
"That it wasn't any of my business, that she wasn't a prostitute, blah, blah blah... I told her I didn't care what she did for money as long as it didn't involve Peter. I know a fucking grift when I see one, I've ran enough of them."
"It's suspicious," Emma mumbles.
"It really is," Destiny agrees. "I told her I didn't buy her bullshit. I don't think there was an accident, not a real one anyway. What she doesn't know is that Roman is an evil sack of shit and that I can be a vengeful mother fucker when it comes to Peter."
"Wow."
"It felt so fucking good," Destiny laughs. "She was pissed, you should have seen her face."
"Peter's lucky to have you standing up for him."
"Peter needs someone to stand up for him," she corrects her.
"I haven't seen her since I met her," Emma admits. "I hope to keep it that way."
"If she's smart she'll hop town before Roman gets bored."
"I think he might actually like her," Emma says but Destiny laughs loudly.
"Roman doesn't like anybody but himself. He's going to spend the rest of his excruciatingly long life paying for pussy in one way or another. This isn't any different."
"I guess..."
"Can I see the back of your head?" Destiny asks. Before Emma can respond, she's standing behind her tugging around at her hair. "You're lucky you have long hair to cover this up with."
"Thanks."
"No, I'm serious. This looks really bad."
"I know. It's a mess."
"Look, I don't take Peter's intuition too seriously." Destiny crosses back to her chair. "But I don't think it takes any weird vibes or dreams to be concerned about that."
"Everyone keeps saying-"
"I'm not saying anything spooky happened," Destiny says with a hint of an eye roll. "I'm just saying you've had some bad luck since I've known you."
"Maybe you're the cause then," she jokes. Destiny puts on a fake smile but it falls.
"I think it's likely just a case of wrong place, wrong time... But I'd take some precautions if I were you."
"Like what?"
"Burn some sage, purify your space. You're not going out on full moons, are you?"
"I don't keep up-"
"You should," Destiny warns. "Never forget your fates. It's a fool's belief that he can outrun them forever."
......
A/N: Hi everyone!!! I had a really long work week so I haven't had much time to write but I have most of the next chapter ready so it won't be another long wait!Thank you all for reading/liking/commenting. I know I say it every time I post but it means so much to me<3