Emerge from Isolation (Whumptober 2019)

Recovery (Part One)

Alex hated that overused line of waking up to an unfamiliar ceiling in books, yet his first thought upon waking was:

Oh, an unfamiliar ceiling.

On top of that, his head felt cotton-stuffed, and his body was heavy.

Alex heard the fluttering of paper, and he turned to the sound. A little girl was sitting on a bed, legs crisscrossed. She was hunched over a thin book, and there was a rifle leaning against her knee. Her hair was pulled back into a little ponytail.

The girl glanced up, and when their eyes met, she sat up straight, and she grabbed her rifle. She did not point it at anything, but it was enough to get the message across. Alex's hands shook as he held them in a placating gesture.

"Hey," he said. "I just woke up. I don't know what's happening."

Alex also had no idea what had happened. The last thing he remembered was leaving Split Creek with a whole pack full of medicines.

The girl said nothing. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him.

Alex took a moment to glance around. He was in a tiny cabin, one that was not unfamiliar in this post-Merge world, but he had never seen one so personal. There were childish drawings and maps on the walls. Under the beds in the cabin, he noticed boxes, and there was just enough light to make out the word "books" on one of them. His backpack was sitting in a corner.

"I must have gotten myself into trouble, huh?" he said. "I don't remember a thing, though. Would you mind telling what happened?"

She just looked at him, grip tightening on her rifle.

Alex's arm and chest screamed at him as he pushed himself to his elbows. A colorful quilt slipped off his shoulders, and he noticed the bandages covering his chest. The girl flinched, but she still never pointed her rifle at him. He nodded toward his backpack, but his vision swam, making him flopped back onto his back. There was a soft something under his head.

"Can I check my bag please?" he asked, and he pointed at the bag instead. "I need to make sure nothing's broken."

There was silence as Alex waited for his vision to return to normal, and he looked at the girl, raising his eyebrows. Her cheeks turned pink. She nodded her head, but she otherwise made no other movement. He had no idea if he would be able to make it over there, but it might have been a bad idea to ask her to do it for him.

"Could you please bring it over here? I don't think it's a good idea for me to get up yet. Understand?"

The girl's eyes shifted to the backpack. Her face turned pink again.

"I went through it," she said like she was in a hurry. "I took your weapons."

"Oh, there were some bottles in there, was any of it broken?"

The girl frowned at him, tilting her head to the side.

"You're not upset?"

"About what?"

"I went through your things and took your stuff."

Alex had dealt with his fair share of paranoid people over the last ten years, and it had never occurred to him to be upset. It was just *standard* to have your stuff searched through or taken.

More of the blanket slipped as Alex sat upright—slowly to avoid dizziness this time. His arm was wrapped in a bandage as well, but it hurt more than his chest did. He flexed his hand, regretting it as he felt sharp pains in it.