Hybrid

Karma

Maria sat in the backseat of the car and laid against the door to pout. I sat up front and offered to drive, but Isaac decided he wanted to and jumped into the drivers seat before I could. After an hour of driving, I was ready to throw myself into the middle of the road.

The trip was silent and awkward. We still had a few more hours to go, and I couldn't stop the ringing in my ears. Maria climbed onto my lap in an uncomfortable display and settled herself.

"This is nothing," She tried to convince me.

"It's not safe for you to sit on my lap like this," I said.

"Fine," Maria said, climbing back into her seat.

Was I kicked? Yes. I reclined in my seat and tried to fall asleep. I could hear a plane flying overhead, the sound of bugs and wind passing the car, and occasionally another car moving across the pavement. I'd had trouble sleeping after becoming a wolf because of the noise, but I was learning to appreciate it.

I listened to the noise of heartbeats, something I had never before considered could be in the realm of things I could love. I could place the beat to the person it belonged to fairly easily. Maria's heart beat fast as a human, skipping a beat every now and then. Her heart was strong, but I doubt she was as strong on the outside as she was on the inside.

The car came to a halt as did my daydreaming. I walked into the doctors office, the smell of antibacterial and illness hanging in the air. I wish it was easy to pick which one was worse, with the antibacterial stinging at my nose and the illness turning my stomach, but I couldn't make a choice. After almost two hours of waiting in the wooden framed chairs from hell, the doctor returned with news.

"It looks like the cure is no longer in your blood," The doctor said.

I could smell the relief coming from Maria, who closed her eyes and took a breath at the news.

"It moved," The doctor spoke, rupturing our brief happiness.

"Where?" Maria asked.

I could hear her words getting caught in her throat. I was able to see the tears brimming in the back of her eyes, but they did not come forward. The doctor switched his weight onto his other side, clearly unwilling to deliver the news. His discomfort was dwarfed by my own.

"I believe a brain tumor is causing your fainting spells," He whispered.

I felt like the floor was swallowing me. I thought the rejection felt bad, but this was the worst thing I've ever experienced by far.

"It's located in such a place that there could be an issue with your motor skills and possibly some memory loss. It's really just dependent on how it grows," The doctor sighed.

"Is there anything that can slow the growth?" Maria asked.

"I've never dealt with anything like this before. We can try some different medications, but there's no telling what could happen. In the meantime, you have to stop shifting completely. A single shift could be the reason you don't make it."

"Operation?" Maria croaked out.

"You're human now," The doctor paused, "And you know that a surgery like this is extremely risky."

"What are my odds?"

"Slim. It's not impossible, but the chances of success are as low as ten percent." The doctor closed his eyes tightly.

"Then how long do I have to live?" Maria asked.

"It's difficult to tell with the rapid progression. I think we're looking at four to six months."