Starts with a Match

Some Exclusions May Apply

I wake up to Hannah's head on my chest.

Smell of plastic, clean, linens, fake light from above, low light from the west through windows.

Donovan's resting his elbows on the side of my hospital bed, his face in his hands.

Jim's in the corner, staring out the window shades.

They all look like shit.

"Think you were right." All three pairs of eyes turn to me. Hannah hiccups into a sob and Don sighs a 'thank you God'. Jim grins at me. "Think I might actually be a cat."

"Nine lives," he mutters, limping over to me. I don't know why he's here but God, thank God, like Don's saying over and over, thank you Jesus that my friend is here. He bends at the waist and kisses the top of my head. "You're running out, motherfucker."

"Nah, I'm good for another few rounds," I grunt, wishing I could sit up, but my spine feels shot to hell and I can hardly feel my fucking legs. Hannah fumbles with a remote, and my hotel bed starts to angle my back up, and I sigh with gratitude. "Thanks, Firebug."

"You're an asshole," she whimpers, scrambling for my wrist to bring my knuckles to her mouth.

"Glad to see you alive, too." I try again to readjust my sitting position and fuck I don't remember a damn bomb going off, but my back is on fire.

If I was limping before, I'm gonna be walking like a damn crab after this. "How the fuck did I make it out alive? Seriously? Seya died and...it gets blurry."

"You got kidnapped, Kev," Jim says. He fixes my blankets and I hardly feel it when he adds another. Pulling up a seat at the food of my bed, he crosses his arms over the railing. "White Guild."

"Why just me? They shot Seya, why not take me down too?"

"Don't know. I thought you both had info."

"Thought so too." I attempt to wave a hand at myself, like okay, and, how am I still here, as in, breathing? But my hands are both occupied in Hannah and Don's grips.

"Red rover team up, like the old times," Hannah explains, using my hospital blanket to clean tears off her face. "Jim was already flying over, he said someone had sent him last minute, additional orders. When he got here, he got ambushed at the helipad. Only got out cause I happened to show up. He called me when he was nearly here, and I went from the safe hideout in the north that Seya told me to go to and met him there."

"Then Firebug and I went racing back for your camp. Heard Don on the walkie, said shit had gone down, you and Seya had gone dark. By the time we got there, Seya was dead and you were missing," adds Jim. "Looked like a small battlefield was left behind, honestly. Soldiers in uniforms we didn't recognize."

"Clementine," I whisper. My skin crawls and Hannah peeks at me. "I took her out. Took down some others, too. And Rokoko, Omar—"

"Dead?"

"And not ours."

"Fuck."

I echo her curse and tap my head to my pillows behind me. "What about when we got ambushed? Why have their own people nearly get butchered by gluts?"

"Save face, make them seem trustworthy? Lost control of the situation?" Hannah suggests with a shrug. "Don't know. Unpredictable PCs..."

"How'd you guys know how to find me?"

Hannah and Jim turn to Don. "You wanna tell him?" Jim asks.

Donovan looks to my hand wrapped up in his. "I don't," he mutters. "Don't wanna take credit for what I did." He rattles in a breath and meets my concerned stare. He can barely open his eyes, they're so swollen and red.

"So...one of theirs was still alive. They left him in the dirt, thought he had bled out. Guy said something about how, if he was injured and couldn't help out, they'd kill him so he couldn't get tortured for info. Dude played dead to stay alive. So I um. I pulled a Kooper," Don says. I make a face and he makes the same face, but his is less 'the fuck does that mean' and more 'I'm not sorry'. "Took um. Took some pointers from your i-interrogation. Handbook."

"Oh." I glance at Hannah and Jim. They don't look shocked or upset or grossed out. Kind of wish this wasn't so regular around us, but it is what it is I guess.

"The three of us got Hockins to help, and we set up a group. Took out over three dozen soldiers," says Hannah.

"Not nearly as impressive as you taking on that many on your own." Jim tries to smirk. "We didn't get much more info, but we got you, so. That's...that's more important," he says, scratching his chin.

You big sap, I'm definitely not more important than preventing a mass world war. I smile at him anyway.

I nod at Hannah in hopes she reads my mind to adjust the bed again, and I sigh in relief when she turns it on, and it sits me up more. I can't seem to work my feet to help me shift on the damn mattress. Toby's gonna love pattering around me when I get home, taking care of me.

Which reminds me... "How long have I been out?"

"U-um..." Don sniffles and runs a finger under his nose, suddenly fascinated by the ceiling tiles. "You've been unconscious for, um. Four...four weeks."

A month. I gape. My mouth is dry. "What?" I ask Hannah, since Don refuses to look at me now. "A month? What day is it?"

Unlike Don, her eyes are locked right on me. That's almost worse. "It's the twenty-fifth of October, Kooper."

I was supposed to be home over a month ago.

I missed Toby's birthday.

Did anyone tell my spouse? Did anyone tell them I nearly died again? Have they been sitting and waiting for me to return all this time? Do they think I'm dead?

"How long...how long did they have me?"

"Too long," whispers Jim, hands clasped at his mouth. "Weeks. Too damn long." He's staring at something under the blankets. I swallow and pull my hands free from Hannah and Don, and I wince and bring the blankets away from my legs.

Leg.

Just my right leg remains.