So it is done

Small talk, big consequences

"Mr. Goodman?" The doctor's voice reached Jonathan from the wrong side from where he actually was... However, this was to be expected. "How are you feeling?"

"It WaS MUcH bEtTeR oNcE," Jonathan replied in a hoarse voice, before coughing at the scratchy feeling from his throat. Although the damned ventilator tube had been removed a few hours ago, his throat was still very dry. The itch was almost unbearable. "Be KiNd, AnD GRaB Me A gLaSs Of WaTeR pLeAsE?"

"Of course," The doctor, a middle-aged man with an exhausted and tired expression on his face, handed Jonathan a glass of water, and after watching Jonathan take a few sips, took the glass back and placed it on an empty table. The doctor then took a few steps, looking at Jonathan, who continued to lie on the bed. "Can you get out of bed?"

"I could," Jonathan sighed as he leaned his head back on the pillow, his throat feeling much better. It still hurts to talk, though, at least he no longer sounds like a nail on a chalkboard.

"But if I do, my head starts to spin. I think I'll lie down for another day before I bother trying again..."

"Of course, Mr. Goodman, you're free to take as much time as you want," At Jonathan's reply, the doctor just nodded, before looking back to his charts. Jonathan's to be exact. "Do you know what happened to you?"

"To me?" Jonathan just sighed at the Doctor's question. He knew exactly what happened to him, he just can't exactly tell a Sleeper what actually happened, now can he? Still, he had to say something, so with a cough to clear his throat, Jonathan just answered in the most vague way possible. "I know... Not just from a medical point of view, however."

"I would be interested to hear your recollection of what happened anyway." At Jonathan's evasive answer, the doctor consulted his charts, checking something for himself before looking at Jonathan again, "The results that we got from the tests we did when you were brought here... The word 'unusual' doesn't even describe the depth of our confusion. How exactly could you get so many completely unique injuries that seem to have no common causes for each of them?" The Doctor asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The only thing that I care about, Doctor, really, is that they did not turn out to be fatal." Jonathan smiled weakly, "Besides that doctor, shouldn't you now deal with the other wounded? I'm already recovering, after all."

"I'm afraid to say, Mr. Goodman, that our, ahem, provisional government," For some reason, the doctor glanced at the door, as if expecting someone from the military would just burst through the door because he just mentioned them, before continuing to speak, "Valued your health and well-being very much, that I can't just leave you unattended. I think you yourself have noticed it..."

"Of course," Jonathan sighed as he looked around him. More specifically, at the private VIP hospital room dedicated solely for his treatment. And in a city that had almost suffered total destruction, such a thing was rarer than an old Mage not having a God complex. "I don't imagine that, after all that had happened, there's anywhere in the city where there's a single empty hospital room. Moreover, one in the intensive care unit."

"As I said - your health is of great importance to the provisional government. So, were you told about how long you were unconscious? And about the situation around the city?"

"In general terms only," Jonathan shook his head listlessly, "I was told that I was unconscious for a week?"

"Strictly speaking - it was only six days. But yes, about a week." The doctor checked the charts again, before continuing. "And... I do not know what exactly you did, but no matter what you did at the moment, the reorganized army is slowly clearing out the remnants of the Grimm from the city. At the moment, the horde has been stopped, but... "