Book IV: Avi Dragon

Foundation

The occupational therapist did not break her that day, not that they ever truly had. She did everything he asked, without complaint. Sure, she shook with fatigue, but never so much that she couldn't continue. Not as much as the day before, or the day before that.
   He surprised her by letting her have the walk she was gunning for when he entered her room. He monitored her gait, how tightly she gripped the pole (which wasn't very tight at all). He let her walk laps until she cried uncle--which she never did. There were a prescribed number of laps one had to do before being considered healthy, at least in his mind. When she was first cleared for walking, she could only manage three. Now, he had to stop her at ten--and that was after her exercises! She didn't have a spring in her step, but he didn't expect it. She'd been out for a long time.
   In short, as far as he was concerned, there was nothing more he need do. She was healthy enough for discharge. She'd still be on light duty for a couple of weeks, but she was capable of daily tasks around the house, from his professional opinion.
   "The doctor will have to see you first, of course, to make sure your labs are okay, but I think this is goodbye, young lady."
   His patient didn't seem happy to hear it.
   "You were just telling me how restless you were. Don't you want to leave?"
   Sad blue eyes glanced up from the blanket over her lap. "The hospital, yes. The state... not so much."
   Her husband smoothed a hand over her back. "We'll come back, I promise."
   She slumped further into the pillows, forcing the man to remove his hand. The occupational therapist left them to work through whatever was going on. That wasn't in his job description.

   The doctor looked at her labs the next day and declared her fit for discharge. He gave her the spiel about sticking to light housework for a couple of weeks, then moderate. He warned her against the hiking she missed so much, for at least a month.
   "You've got to rebuild all that muscle you lost, and do it gently. No weight lifting beyond--"
   "15 pounds, I know."
   He gave her a Look. "If you'd been out longer, I'd have said five. If we didn't have the technology to lessen atrophy, I'd say five. The only reason I'm allowing fifteen is because of the relatively short duration, and your daughter, who probably weighs more than that. Speaking of whom, I don't want you carrying her everywhere. She's going to keep growing no matter what, so I want you sitting when you hold her.
   "We still don't know what put you in that coma. Remember that, young lady. I don't want to see you here again, out cold for another six months. That's an awful lot of milestones to miss. Take it easy; for your daughter's sake, if not your own."
   Angel knew she wouldn't be in a coma again, but she smiled and nodded for his sake. Modern medicine wouldn't understand her situation, so she'd take it into her own hands as soon as she left the hospital. She read his instructions as "don't Shift for a couple of weeks, until you know your heart can handle it, and your muscles will hold."
   When the doctor left, another took his place. He had a similar message to give her.
   "He's right, you know. And wrong. You know you won't be in hospital ever again, right?"
   Angel cocked her head at Gabriel. Not at the contractions, for she wouldn't remember that he hadn't used them before, but the actual words themselves. "Then what was he right about? Exercising caution?"
   Gabriel's essence seemed to nod. "At first, yes. This is the foundation you'll build the rest of your very long life upon. Oh, don't go all depressed on me. You knew what you signed up for, even if you don't remember." He pushed away from the wall and wafted closer. "We need you to strengthen this human body, because it is the basis for the dragon body. Don't go jumping into dragon form all at once, unless you have to. Take it slow, figure out how it works. Otherwise, you'll get sloppy. Maybe you don't lock that elbow under pressure, and something knocks it out from under you. Practice piece by piece, until it becomes second nature. Instinct.
   "And don't get all hung up on social media. If you've got time to scan that, you've got time to scan your bones. Shed as many of your human shackles as you can. Focus on the job, 'kay?"
   There, she did make a face. "Since when do angels say "'kay"?
   His essence grew stormy where the face should be. He vanished without answering.

   Avi waved a hand in front of her face. The room snapped into focus, and she looked at him.
   "You okay?"
   "More or less, why?"
   "Your eyes went angel blue, and you just... zoned out. Is everything okay?"
   Her lips twisted, hand flicked. "Just getting an angelic reinforcement to doctor's orders."
   He didn't know whether to thank Gabriel or not. He hadn't heard a word that was said, which always made him nervous.
   "Well, your sister dropped off some clothes last night, just in case. I was asking if you wanted to take a look, see if they'll fit. If not, I'll need to take a cab... somewhere, to find you something to wear out of here. They won't wait too long to discharge you, so we need to know pretty quickly."
   She blinked a few times, and her eyes returned to normal... Or as normal as they ever got. There was a faint tint of yellow behind the grey, but that didn't worry him too much. They would be leaving the home she'd known for years, to go to a land she didn't remember. The clothes were just a reminder of the change.
   Angel took the bag he offered, let the nurse know she was going to the bathroom, and unplugged her IV.
   He started to tell her she didn't need to change in the bathroom. They were married, after all. Then it dawned on him that he'd never seen her naked, so he let her go.
   The sports bra was a little loose. Even though she was nursing, she'd lost a lot of weight. Angel looked down at her body reluctantly as she tried on the underwear. The bed sores were healing well, her muscles more defined than when she woke up. Her body always had responded well to exercise.
   She pressed a hand to her belly self-consciously. It still drooped below her waistline, despite months of near starvation, but there was a lot less of it than before she went all Snow White. White... Yeah, there goes my tan, too. At least my thighs are smaller. I can't see any dimples-- She abruptly stopped analyzing what she saw in words, having just remembered that it might not stay in her head. She whipped the shorts up and over her hips, which had also thinned and hollowed out, and immediately had to cinch the drawstring. Smart, little big sis. Drawstring is the safest bet when you don't know for sure. It held the baggy underwear up, as an added bonus. The shirt was a bit too big, but that was far better than the opposite; particularly when you had to work around an IV and O2 monitor.
   Having ascertained that nothing needed to be purchased, she took everything off and put the hospital gown back on. Then she emptied her bladder, just in case. She never knew what mothers meant by "just in case", but as a mother, she did it out of instinct.
   When she'd washed her hands and come back out, a nurse was waiting to take out her IV.