Fragile Hearts [DANGEROUS FELLOWS]

⚠️THIRTY-SEVEN: THEY SAID I HAD THE VIRUS⚠️

The infirmary looked nowhere near post-apocalyptic. It was still fully equipped with medical instruments and electronics and bright white lights that lined the ceiling.

And patients.

You passed by a room with a boy who couldn't have been much older than you, chanting a word over and over in a language you didn't know.

"He's fine," the nurse who was leading you to Eugene's room assured. "He's just in shock."

A little girl in a gown was standing in the hallway, a doctor holding her hand and keeping her off to the side to allow you to walk by. As you did, the girl smiled at you, waving slowly, and you felt more unease than comfort.

You saw more people. Men, women, old and young, some of them frightened and other friendly. It felt like forever went by before you finally reached the end of the hall, to a tightly closed door, the nurse lifting up an ID card to open it.

She hesitated once it was unlocked, looking at you with a smile that was meant to be reassuring. "Don't be alarmed if he acts a little off," she told you. "He's sedated."

She swung open the door for you, revealing a normal-looking hospital room. A hospital bed, monitors, and stainless steel tables filled it. Normal, besides that Eugene was in the bed, cords in his arms.

"Hi Eugene," you greeted softly, going up to the side of the bed, by the heart rate monitor that beeped rythmically. He turned his head in your direction, eyes opening a little. He squinted in confusion, looking concentrated.

"You... who are you?" Eugene slurred, and you felt your heart sink. Could he have really forgotten who you were?

"It's me-" you began.

"Wait, wait," he interrupted, opening his eyes more. "I... know you, I recognize you."

You nodded, feeling yourself smile. "Do you remember my name?" you asked him, brushing a piece of hair away from his face.

"Uhh... I remember... uhh..." he said, deep in thought. You saw his eyes fill with recognition and he reached his hand up, pointing at your face. "You're (Y/n)... I remember."

You felt relief flush through you at hearing your name. The nurse smiled from where she was at the table, gathering together some of the instruments.

"Yeah, I remember... we met in class..." he muttered, furrowing his eyebrows as he searched his memory. "No, that's not right... a supermarket."

The beeps next to you were going faster as his heartbeat began to rise, and Eugene struggled to sit up.

"There's zombies," he said. "I have to go, there's zombies."

"It's alright, Eugene," the nurse said calmly, coming over to put a hand on his chest and gently push him back down. "There are none here. It's safe."

He let his head fall back on the pillow, his heartbeat slowing back to normal. His eyes wandered around the room until they met yours, and he reached to point at you again, his finger almost hitting your nose.

"Are you a nurse, (Y/n)?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I just came to check on you," you told him. "To see how you were doing."

"You're a liar," he sighed, turning his head away from you. "You wouldn't come here... just 'cause you wanted to."

"I'm not lying," you replied defiantly. "I was worried about you. Are you feeling better?"

"No, (Y/n)," he said, turning back to you. "I'm going to turn into a zombie... the doctor said it."

You felt your heart stop and you whirled around to face the nurse. She was still smiling, shaking her head.

"It's the drugs," she told you.

"No," Eugene insisted. "She's lying, (Y/n)... they said I had the virus... I heard them."

"I'm sorry Eugene," the nurse said, coming to your side, where you could see she had a syringe behind her back. "It's time to rest, okay?"

"(Y/n), don't let her do it," Eugene pleaded. "They're going to kill me, they're-"

"Shhh," the nurse soothed, pushing the needle into Eugene's arm and injecting the clear fluid. Almost instantly his eyes started to roll back into his head and he went limp, passing out.

"I'm sorry," the nurse repeated, to you this time. "If he gets too worked up, he won't be able to get better."

"Is it true?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your heart beating against your ribs. "Does he really have the virus?"

The nurse's smile went away and she sighed, setting the empty syringe on one of the steel tables. She didn't say anything at first, looking at Eugene, and then at you, before opening her mouth to speak.

"It's true," she replied, and her words were like a knife in the gut. You strode forward, and it was like something was controlling you as you grabbed the front of her shirt, pushing her against the wall.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you hissed, anger and fear a raging battle in your stomach. You expected to see the nurse look scared, or at least surprised, but the only emotion there was hope.

"We wanted to keep it a secret, at least, until we were sure," she explained. "Yes, Eugene has the virus, but we believed-"

"What? That you could heal him? Or do tests on him as he slowly dies? Or turns into a zombie?" you demanded, shaking her.

"No," she said firmly, pulling herself from your grip. She smoothed down the front of her shirt, moving past you to one of the tables. Picking up a little book, she flipped through it until she found the page she was looking for.

"I saw," she started again, her finger tracing the writing, "that his immune system reacts irregularly to the virus. It doesn't break down like we're used to. There's something different happening here, so we believe-"

"Just tell me!" you cried of exasperation, your legs trembling, feeling like you might pass out.

The nurse closed the book, setting it back down. She came over to you, and you took a step back, scared of what she might do. But to your surprise, she wrapped her arms around you in a hug, squeezing you tightly, like a mother might to her child.

"We believe he's immune," she said at last, and by the waver in her voice you knew she was crying.
"He could be the boy that saves us all."