Seer: The Blessed Child

And They Lived

"The Copycat Killer was apprehended," the news report blared from the television screen. "In a news conference, police said—"

"Dad, can you please change the channel," Sachi said groggy-voiced having awakened from a deep sleep.

Flashing her an understanding smile, Lars picked up the remote from off the food tray and turned to the SyFy channel airing the Tom Cruise movie, Minority Report. 

"Better?" he said, setting the remote down. She nodded. He lightly squeezed her arm. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

Sachi scooted up from sliding down the soft pillows, the effort making her slightly dizzy. "My head doesn't feel like someone is trying to hammer nails into it." 

"Your injuries weren't mild," Lars said. "You suffered a severe concussion."

Rubbing her eyes, Sachi looked around the hospital room, the pastel walls a light shade of blue.   The room smelled like antiseptic.  "Where did mom go?" 

"She's visiting Kael a few beds down from you," Lars replied. 

"How is he?" she said. She hadn't seen him since they were both taken in separate ambulances to the hospital the night before.

"Besides some bruising and a broken arm, he's okay," Lars said. "Are you sure?" Sachi said. She remembered tasting blood on her boyfriend's lips when they kissed. "Yeah," Lars said. "He keeps asking about you. He wants to see you." 

"I want to see him too," Sachi mumbled. She missed him so much, her chest ached.

"Here I am," a familiar male voice said at the entrance of the room.  Relief washed over Sachi. "Kael," she said, the word coming out of her mouth choked.

He stepped inside the room dressed in a hospital gown and yellow slip resistant hospital socks. His forearm, covered in a plaster cast, was in a sling. He had a purplish bruise near his eye.

His eyes brimming with unshed tears, he rushed over to her and kissed her; fully aware that her parents were watching but beyond the point of feeling any embarrassment for the public display of affection.

Their lips smacking as he drew back from their lingering kiss, Kael gazed at her, his heart swelled with emotion. "How are you?" 

His breath smelled like mint-flavored toothpaste. Sachi grinned. "Better now that you're here."

"Don't mind us," Lars joked eliciting giggles throughout the room. "Dad," Sachi said red-faced.

"Pardon my cheekiness, Mr. Starlet—" 

Kael halted mid-sentence when the older man arched his brow at the teenager. "I mean Lars," Kael said, correcting himself. "It's okay," Lars said.

He looked over his shoulder at his wife sitting underneath the small wall mounted flat screen television to avoid the wall clock next to it. "I understand how you feel."

"Looks like a party in here," Wolf said, knocking at the door before entering. "The more the merrier," Lars greeted the officer with a firm handshake.

The banter subsiding, he smiled with gratefulness at the officer, his eyes shimmering. "Thanks for everything, Wolf," he said emotionally. "I mean it." 

"She's my goddaughter," Wolf whispered. "I swore to protect her."

Lars nodded. "I don't even want to think about what could have happened if you hadn't—" 

"Then don't," Wolf said. "It's over now." 

"Is it?" Lars said; the ordeal with both his wife and daughter seemed to have aged him overnight. His hair was noticeably grayer. "That's what I'd like to know," Nozomi said, joining the conversation.