Sombra had never liked hospitals. The only reminder they brought him was pain: black eyes and broken arms and busted lips. The scars and the healing and the vulnerability that came with it. But then again, without pain, he wouldn't be where he was today.

Perhaps it was the matter of money as well. The bane of his and Jet's existence. Every trip to the clinic meant more debt. The poor sector's hospitals were ridiculously overpriced, compared to the rest of the Crystal Empire.

Just another way they exploit us, Sombra thought as he strolled along the cobblestone path.

It was his third trip to the hospital, and he wasn't proud to say that. First the bar fight. Then the assasination attempt from a few weeks ago. This time, he actually wasn't going in there on a stretcher.

It was for his hand's test results. After surviving the attempt, he had passed out after fighting the assassin, and had been taken to the hospital. The doctors had taken a closer look at his hand; running tests and doing scans.

He pushed open the pearly white building's door, and was greeted by a friendly man with hazel eyes and butterscotch yellow hair. "Hi. Sombra, right?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I've seen you in and out of here an awful lot. On a stretcher, visiting friends, being discharged..young people like you always getting yourselves into trouble!" He shook his head, but still managed a sympathetic smile. "Your appointment will take place in that room at the end of the corridor. He gestured to it and Sombra walked towards the door.

The room was sparse but well lit and tidy. He took a seat, while his stomach twisted and turned, knotting and unknotting.

His left hand dully ached, as if remembering all it had gone through. What if his hand was truly damaged? What would he be then? Would Luna still even want him? A broke, hopeless cripple? And he saw what happened to those without power. Crushed. Would he be reduced to one amongst the groveling masses? The thought was too much to-

"Hello," a middle-aged woman with mint green hair holding a clipboard smiled warmly at him. "What's your name?"

"Sombra," he answered, instantly relaxed by her calming aura.

"How have you been?" she asked him, taking a seat behind a desk, gently setting down her clipboard.

"Fine," Sombra forced out. She asked him a few more questions- "Can you just tell me my results?' Sombra inquired rather impatiently. When the smile left her eyes, he was quick to apologize. "I'm sorry, I just really need to know."

"Um....of course." She gulped and stared down at her papers, clearly unsure how to start.

This can't be good.

"So...about your hand, we ran a bunch of tests....and...we've done some surgeries-"

"Can you please just get on with it?!" Sombra was desperate at this point. He couldn't wait. Not with so much on the line.

She inhaled sharply, her brow creasing as she did. "You won't be able to do magic anymore. Too much internal damage was done," she admitted, before covering her mouth with a hand as if regretting what she had said.

The blow almost knocked the wind out of his chest. Bang. There it was. The cold hard truth. It was a good thing he was sitting down, otherwise he would have collapsed. His passion, gone.

"But....but...the surgeries!"

"I'm sorry. They tried everything they could, but the damage wasn't just external, it was internal and maybe if it was treated earlier, or if you hadn't strained your hand a few weeks ago-"

"My dreams are gone! Do you understand that?!"

"We have a therapist you can consult to cope with-"

"I don't care! I really don't care! I just want my magic back." His voice cracked at that. Both of them were holding back tears. He instinctively raised his hand, as if to try and fight the emotions that were overtaking him. The barrier that was stopping his magic. Maybe even Bijou from five years ago, who had destroyed his hand in the first place.

The doctor cowered, throwing up her hands to protect herself.

Nothing happened. His magic was a memory. Nothing more. So he ran out, away from this wretched place and all the hard memories, away from the pain of life itself.

Chrissy was practicing dance on her own when she got the news.

"Jet's dead." Evie stood in the doorway of the studio when she said it, so collected that Chrissy thought she wasn't human. But knowing Evie, she knew she was a storm of emotions inside.

"What?" Chrissy gasped, stopping mid pirouette and catching herself on the barre. Surely she had heard wrong.

"He's dead," Evie repeated, this time softer.

No. Nononononononono. This couldn't be happening. Not when everything was going so well! Chrissy had met someone who loved her for who she was. She had friends. She had a job she loved. She had a passion.

How could it all be snatched away from her when it was going so, so perfectly?

They had been dating for four months. It was the most meaningful relationship she had ever had.

How could life snatch away happiness again?

Evie hugged Chrissy tightly. Chrissy sobbed into her arms. What did I do wrong this time? Is this punishment?

"Is it my fault again?" Chrissy whispered to no one in particular.

"No. It is not. You didn't kill him. Don't blame yourself," Evie swiftly intervened. Her hug was stiff and unnatural, almost robotic. "Where I come from, we don't do hugs. I know I can't help you and I'm sorry."

Chrissy nodded, frantically wiping away tears.

"Chrissy? Take care, ok? I am so, so sorry. And remember, it is never your fault."

"Aren't you sad too?" Chrissy asked. How was Evie showing nearly no hints of emotion? Did she really not care?

Evie sighed. "Yes, but....I've seen a lot of people die. It's not the case for everyone, but after a while, you get used to it. But it doesn't mean I'm not upset. We just can't afford to grieve too much."

Chrissy thanked Evie for her help then exited the studio, longing for the air to slake her lightheadedness. She knew there was someone she had to find.

She found Sombra hunched over on a bench in the peaceful courtyard, clearly distraught. The candy-colored flowers and sculpted green hedges seemed out of place amongst the otherwise devastating scene.

Chrissy shited next to him, arranging the green ruffles of her skirt. A skirt way too cheerful for a day like this.

"Chrissy, go away," Sombra muttered, head in his hands.

"I just...thought I could...I don't know. Grieve with you?" Chrissy fidgeted with her hands anxiously.

"About what? You don't know what I'm going through right now," Sombra grumbled, trying not to lash out at her. He couldn't push a friend away when he needed one most. He couldn't burn his own bridges.

"What do you mean? Me and Jet were in love! I know it's not the same as brotherhood but we both had a connection with him!" Chrissy burst out.

"Chrissy, what are you talking about?" The look on Sombra's face turned from grief to confusion within a second.

"You don't know? I thought you knew....then why were you crying..." she trailed off.

"Know what?" Sombra's eyes widened in worry. She was shaking her head, trying not to break down in front of him-

"Know what?" Sombra grabbed both her shoulders desperately, nails digging into her skin.

Then he pieced two and two together. Her use of past tense, her red-rimmed eyes-

"WHAT? HE DIED?!" Sombra yelled at her.

She whimpered and scooted away from him. "Don't get mad at me! I'm just as upset as you are!" Chrissy shot back with enough force in her words to make him back down for a second.

He pulled her in and they both continued crying. Heaving sobs. Crystalline drops staining their clothes. Her shoulders grew wet with his tears.

Jet was gone. Truly gone from both of their lives. As a brother, as a friend, as a guardian, as a lover. And with him he had taken parts of them that couldn't be replaced.

And Sombra told her about his hand. She told him about her past.

"Well, there's one thing we can do," Chrissy whispered.

"What?" Sombra asked.

"The Wish Granter's Hut. At this point, if we see an opportunity, we better grab it."

Sombra nodded. He would do anything, to get his magic back. "There's no other way. No other treatments, no alternatives, no spells."

"You can't conjure happiness," Chrissy mused. "Do we tell anyone?"

"No. Luna wouldn't like it. I don't know why. Something just tells me she would try to stop me."

"And I don't want to get Evie involved. In that case, we would have to leave as soon as possible. I can't wait any longer."

They sat in silence for a while, each other's presence strangely calming. They needed each other more than they thought.

"Sombra, why is life so cruel?" Chrissy broke the silence, curling up on the bench.

"I wish I knew," he sighed.

"Is this karma or-"

"I don't know, ok?" Sombra clenched his teeth, his knuckles turning white.

"Sorry," Chrissy muttered, turning her attention to a pink flower that had landed on the ground in front of her.

"Don't apologize. You're a really nice girl, and I'm sorry if I'm acting like this is your fault. I just...need something to blame. You don't deserve this," Sombra reassured her.

"Thanks. You too. We're victims of a corrupt society, Evie would say. All our problems don't really have anything to do with us as individuals. They come from society, one way or another."

"Yes. I would still have my magic if it wasn't for the Crystal Empire's exploitation of the poor."

"Why do you care so much about it?" She couldn't relate. Never had the talent or the interest for it.

"How would you feel if you lost the ability to dance?" Sombra retorted, letting her process it.

"Makes sense. But why are you so worried? You still have literature, and-"

"Because I'm afraid Luna won't love me," Sombra blurted out. "Power is important in this world."

"So is love," Chrissy said. "In any form. We're both doing this, out of love, in a way."

"I'm starting to think this world is without love." Sombra rose to leave the park bench, squinting against the direct sunlight.

The sun stretched and yawned like a lazy cat, painting the sky red, orange, yellow.

Red, which reminded Sombra of his magic's glow and filled him with bitterness.

Yellow, which reminded Chrissy of happiness: the one thing she could never have for long.

"See you at three A.M.," Chrissy whispered.

"May all of your wishes come true," they finished.

Neither noticed the two pairs of eyes. One amber, one red. Staring at them through the sunset and beyond. 

Hey guys! I hoped you liked this chapter, even though I know it was super depressing.  Don't worry. The next chapter will be filled with a lot of action. Feel free to vote if you enjoyed it and comment any thoughts.  

Also, I will be updating more frequently.