My fingers glide slowly through the freshly washed tangles of his hair as I take in the reality that this day should have been the last day of our lives. I hold him against my chest, crammed into the hospital bed that hardly seems big enough for him, let alone me. 

Yet it was the only way to achieve peace with all that we'd endured since our arrival here. To be truthful, I needed the closeness as much as he did. The bed was unbelievably comfortable compared to most of what we had back in our time.

When death is at your doorstep, everything else begins to pale in comparison. One might say a stubbed toe is the worst pain imaginable until you've felt greater pain that is. The scale is infinite for most, pain can always be raised, but once you have felt the icy chill of black oblivion trying to snuff out your very existence; true grit surfaces and pain becomes a very tolerable thing. 

It's life, it's existence, it's the reminder that you will remain if only for a moment more. Feeling pain is a guarantee of life for once you cross the thresh hold, you feel nothing and long to find if you will ever feel anything again. 

One of the things I had allowed to slide about my husband was his suspicion and fear of doctors. His lack of trust in anything that he didn't completely understand and his reluctance to undergo any sort of procedure. Where one might realize this is a necessary evil, Verando seemed to bank on his immortality and would rather succumb to decay than even stand the palpation of a sore joint. 

Where it benefited in a lack of complaining about physical ailments, it meant there was a lot he tolerated and it assured that he was hard to treat. 

With our pristine surroundings, we hardly fit in with our grit-covered clothes and the distinct smell of harbor backwash coating our bodies. The walls reminded me much of our times with the elves save for the smooth texture, not a stone or brick in sight, the walls were without flaw and yet without an ounce of life or likeness.

 Each one was identical to the next, with no paintings, no sculptures, not even potted plants, I felt as though this place was too sterile. We scrubbed our bodies and washed away the remnants of our past lives, handing over our clothes for sampling and washing though Verando seemed uncertain if we would ever get them back. I'd say the hardest part of the evening had been looking upon his beaten body but I'd be lying. 

Mr.Balan had made his last impression quite memorable, though he didn't suffer from the broken limbs that Haryek did, his beautiful skin was marred and broken by the lash marks and scalds. "Cigar." He'd told me, giving me a whole new meaning for the appreciation of this new life. 

It would mean Mr.Balan was dead, buried in the ground for centuries. It's almost a blur now, counting the marks over and over in my head only to lose track and just hug him under the scalding stream of water. I toweled him off with the white, fluffy towels they provided us, one of my original roles that I always took great pleasure in. 

I briefly recall the pang of reality I felt when I skirt the towel over his abdominals to find that he is not dirty, he was marred by heavy bruising from the chains. 

"Does it hurt?"

He shrugs. Stoic. I'm vaguely aware that I'm daydreaming, lost between two realities and a handful of half-truths.

Tonic pulls me out of my trance, I lift my eyes from watching his chest rise up and down, breathing with him. "I figured he'd be asleep."

"Of course he is. He died today." My voice is hard, I try not to be bitter and angry but it's difficult when I feel as though we were misled about what was really going on here. Yet, how can you mislead someone when you give them very little information? 

We agreed to come, options were limited, and we owed Helen our lives. 

"You forget that I lived it, too. Four hundred years- I didn't know this day would come, I lost you both and it felt like mere moments to you."

Shutting my eyes, I don't want to shout and wake him. "Tonic. Please don't act as if mourning is the same as dying. You look like you've had a hard go of it and if I had known he was going to kill Anuetta I would have done anything to stop it but I've had a very. Long. Day. 

I feel as though not a person here has been truthful to what is going on, this place gives me the creeps." I carefully adjust the tubing sticking out of the IV drip in his arm. "These ways and these 'treatments' for things we can't even prove he has. For all I know, she could be poisoning him."

"It's prevention. He got lungs full of-"

"I know." I stop myself, my temper flaring. I take a deep breath, brushing the backs of my fingers over his cheek to calm myself. "I know. Everyone keeps saying it over and over as if I don't understand. I was there. Pneumonia. Big and scary. I just hate to see him like this. It makes me feel helpless." 

Getting to the root of why she wanted us hospitalized involved multiple procedures that were alien to us. I watched, hiding my concern, as we put on heavy aprons and the large machine was placed over parts of his body to snap, what she called, x-rays.

 The bruising concerned her even though we both assure her that even commoners suffer must worse than these superficial injuries and live. It seemed like beings in this time were more fragile. I can recall picking gravel out of each other's wounds and cutting an arrow out of my own skin. Bruising and a sore throat was the least of our worries during our time. 

While Tonic and Reid try to convince us that it's necessary, it feels anything but. 

The process took longer than the patience of our patient, changing him and rotating him to get better views that he thought were useless and a waste of our time proved difficult and time-consuming. He was as ready as I was to step right back into our former lives as the ones with the answers, to attack the cause and fix the problems.

 In his complaints, I almost failed to notice the distinct lack of healers. Anyone magical really, save for those related to my gray-haired companion. The assurance that our best assistance to their plight was our good health gave me no form of reassurance, instead, it made me feel more so that we were test subjects and proceeded to put me on edge.

When the fruits of our labors were revealed, we marveled at the black, stiff image that was illuminated when placed over a light. She watches his lungs, talking quietly to herself as she taps the image but all I can focus on is the cracked clavicle that looks malformed with excessive remodeling over the left side of his body. 

Of course, to my dismay, she withholds her findings. Placing her stack of films in a folder, she gives nothing away beyond instructing us to be taken to our bedroom. I make a note to talk to her about it later, even if my companion seems less than interested in her prying eyes raking over his shirtless torso for I'm positive it's not his physique she's cued in on.

"You know he hates doctors." Tonic pulls me back out of the depths, lost in thought as I go over Doctor Tanya's strange behavior and excessive x-rays one more time in my head. 

"Not Adriam." I respond, tugging at the soft material of the plain shirt that I'm wearing. It's made from cotton, or at least that's what the tag on it reads. "Tonic, why did she take so many... x -rays?" 

"I asked her to." He admits, unshamed.

"Are you looking at his shoulder?"

His fake hand flexes, opening and closing the fingers. "Maybe there are options for him like there were for me. If you're going to live here, you might as well enjoy the comforts. Nicolas, there's so much that we don't have to endure anymore." 

His voice is full of wonder, hopeful for the future, but to me, he sounds as if he's lost his mind.  "No more pain, no more sadness, no more fear. They make medications and robotics and enhancements that can take away your discomforts and help live your best life. When I lost my arm and leg in the war; it was tough. Reid helped me and Stefan was amazing but I couldn't doom him to live with a cripple. After a while, I just..." 

I note the hesitation as he watches the black, shiny hand, that resembles a normal arm save for the color and obvious metallic sheen. "These enhancements have been a blessing. I can't help but wonder if they would make him happier." I'm taken aback. 

It's hard not to take offense, what would Tonic know about his happiness? As if our existence was miserable in our past lives. Maybe he hadn't changed at all, perhaps he'd forgotten who I was. "Nic, it's been a while but I remember my father and he was incredibly depressed. If he wasn't in pain-"

"Sounds like you've forgotten what makes you alive," I mumble. "Pain and discomfort and sadness, even fear, are all reminders." Oh lord, I sound like Verando. "I'd like to get some rest and end this day if you don't mind?" 

I don't want to talk about my husband's happiness, I don't want to think about using medication to change him and alter his body with the 'enhancements' that Tonic suggests. I want this stranger to leave.  As he stands, I bite my lower lip as in my haste, I had forgotten why I was excited to see him in the first place and decide to ask him. "Tonic?" 

"Yes?"

"What happened to our people? When we died?"

He swallows, his expression becoming distant as he stares into the darkened corner of the dimly lit room. "When you died, it was suspected to be from the stress. Of course, we all knew. Naptalion was overthrown and the French gained independence along with Romania, we won the war against the empire and stopped the invasion." 

But he's not smiling, it's as if this wasn't the best news. "There was no replacement, the court we built fell and a dictatorship rose, worse than the monarchy. At least under the rule of the monarchy, it was fair enough, but with this dictatorship, it became all for one. Most of us were barely getting by, poverty overcame the lands. 

Fillipa went home, we were able to get her out before the monarchy fell. One by one, the nations all but disappeared. Magic users, elves, mages, solomonari. All gone. All that was left were the civilizations of man, I suppose he was right, after all? When he predicted they would come for us." 

I hold Verando a little tighter.

"Tomas turned to the drink, and blamed himself. Penelope was able to get her, Ana, and Rowan to safety. As soon as the war was over, we all came to America."

"America?" 

"The colonies, Nic. Good ol' U S of A. That's where we are now, in America. We went back and forth a bit but Reidy and I stuck together, I helped to raise Rowan until-" I stop him. I don't want to hear anymore. 

"Verando should be awake to hear this. Tell me later?" He nods, understanding. I've missed so much, I need a history book. "Are there any texts on this? Books I can read? I'd like to become more familiar with the times." 

His expression is guarded and I roll my eyes, mirroring the engrained expression that has endeared me to this bloodline.  

"Secrets? You want me to save your butt and you're keeping secrets?"

"Not secrets." A soft sigh escapes his lips. "Just. It's been a long day. A lot can change in 400 years. You'll be in quarantine for three weeks, which will give us plenty of time to get you up to speed on what has happened and where you are." 

He heads for the door and I very carefully but quickly slide out from under my sleeping companion to hurry after him.

"Quarantine?!" I seeth. "So you're locking us up in here for three weeks?! Why the hell would you do that?"

He looks at me as if he's disappointed with my listening skills. "Were you not paying attention? If you catch anything, you could very easily die. Besides, we don't know what you are both carrying, or Helen for that matter. We have to wait for the blood work to come back and then there's a resting period to make sure you both acclimate.

 Nic, times are very different, we can not just throw you out onto the street to fix this mess." 

I suppose there is some truth in that and I wrap my arms around myself, rubbing my biceps as I contemplate how on earth I'm going to keep him busy for three weeks. 

"You understand that, whenever I want, I can pull the pipes out of the walls and flood this place, correct? We're underground, aren't we?" He doesn't look afraid of me, it's as if he expected no less and I'm almost more irritated that he looks so pleased with himself. 

"No more lies, Tonic. It would really help if I knew what this horrible thing was, and yes, I understand that you can't just outright tell me everything but no more lies. No more secrets, if I ask you a question you must answer to the best of your abilities. Especially if you're wanting me to train someone who is using my damn book. You're lucky it didn't burn him alive, what were you thinking?"

"I had a hunch." He shrugs, smirking at my threats. "I have really missed you, Nic. I have waited for this day for a very long time. I thought about you all the time. Don't think that what I felt the day you died was meer 'mourning'. Seeing you die at my feet was one of the worst days of my existence, even though you are here before me, it's as fresh as if it happened yesterday." 

I can't help but chuckle at him, he's giving me mental whiplash and that was something I thought only his father was capable of. "I never thought you'd be this dramatic in your old age. Well, you're off a bit because it nearly happened this morning." My anger with him begins to ebb and I start to forgive him for his comment from earlier. It's hard to be angry with someone who's lost so much. 

He takes my hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of my knuckles. "Hey, I'll be interested to see how deep your daddy issues run. Randy's not the oldest one in town anymore." The sudden boyish grin takes me by surprise and I nervously laugh, pulling my eyebrows together as I carefully slide my hand out of his. 

"I'll be by tomorrow morning with breakfast, enjoy your three-week 'vacation'."

 I feel strange as he leaves and quickly retreat to the safety of the bed. 

Climbing in, I eye the door as I hear the snap of a lock and slide under the light sheets to cuddle up against Verando's chest. I fold myself, burying into his warmth as I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck. 

Don't think too much about it, not everyone likes you like that. He missed you. 

I scold myself for my awkwardness, tracing my finger over the scars on his pectoral muscle. "Are you alright?" His groggy voice takes me by surprise. "You're stiff as a board."

"Maybe I'm just happy to see you?"

He groans at me and threatens to crush me with his size for my horrible pun, I push my hands into his chest and curse at him about his IV. "You don't want them to stick you again, do you?"

"No." The answer is short and firm, taking the anxiety out of my forefront. It was rather amusing to watch him practically quake in his boots at the thought of getting a simple poke. 

"You really don't like being poked from any angle, do you?"

"Oh shut it. I was having a lovely sleep until you ruined it, now you're just being crude. I don't trust anyone who has been trained to stab me, doctors included. Who wants to prick people for a living? Assholes and murders." 

Propping myself up on my elbow, I watch down at him and I'm overcome with how grateful I am to have him here with me. "You're right. Bunch of bastards."

"Of course I am. 'M always right." Peeking at me through his lashes, I press my hand into his face as I crash back down onto the bed with a groan and cuddle up to his side. "Alright, not always. Slight margin for error." 

"Mmm.. Hey, Slight Margin. We're going to be in quarantine for three weeks." And with that, I ruined any attempt at getting more sleep.