Alternatively

Ubiquitous (i)

"He has stage three colon cancer."

His head hurt. A lot.

"He's got a lot of drool for a terminally ill guy."

The last thing he remembered was a bright light, which he had assumed was heaven. But even that should have been alarming; no way was he getting through the pearly white gates.

"He's fading fast, we have to do an emergency jump start."

It wasn't until two hands pressed down hard on his chest did he realize the damage went further than a headache.

"He moved!"

He pried his eyes open, sticky eyelids marring the chubby face peering at him curiously. "Could you stop breaking my ribs?"

The kid's nose flared as he gaped. "I brought you back from the dead."

Percy started to reply when a door just out of his line of sight creaked open. The boy cowed at the newcomer's appearance, backing away from his bedside.

"How many times have I told you to leave him alone?"

"Sorry," he mumbled.

The voices were unfamiliar, as was the room he was in. Calming blue walls gave nothing away and Percy felt the aches more prominently when he strained to look around. He fell back on his pillow with a groan, struggling to lift his arm to rub his eyes. It was expertly bandaged, just as his bare torso was.

"When did he wake up?"

"Oh, like, two seconds ago. I used the defibrillator to shock his heart back to life."

The unknown girl rummaged through drawers behind the bed, shaking the room ever so slightly. "Right, okay."

"Where am I?" Percy muttered, finding his throat raspy and dry. "Who-"

"Drink this."

He could barely comprehend the cup being handed to him. It was a Batman cup with what he assumed and hoped would be water. "I'm not sure I should."

Blonde curls registered first as she rounded the corner, striking eyes piercing him next. "You've been out for two days, you need to drink."

So he did, promptly as his throat closed in rejection. It sent him into a fit of coughs that hurt every inch of his body. Sure hands helped him into an upright position, checking the bandages when he was settled again. He could smell her lemon shampoo when air began coming naturally again.

"Did you say two days?"

She nodded, gesturing for the boy to hand over a pill bottle. "Just about."

"Well?" He incredulously stared at her. "What happened to me? Are you even going to explain who you are and why you didn't take me to a hospital?"

"I can't go to the ER and be all, 'Oh, I just hit this werewolf coming home from Finding Dory'. It wouldn't go over well."

"You hit me? With your car?"

"What else would I use?" She snapped, crushing two tablets on the nightstand.

He leaned back into the pillows she had propped up. It was starting to come back; the lemon shampoo was jogging his memory surprisingly well. It was late, he had to get home. He needed to call his mom or something and his phone was on it's last breath. Four legs were faster than two, so he transformed and cut through the backwoods.

"You were speeding, weren't you?"

"She always does," the kid piped, holding his hands in surrender at the girl's deadly glare.