"Well, now, isn't this an interesting situation," a voice called from above him.

Al opened his eyes and discovered he was lying face up. He was pretty sure that before he blacked out, the last thing he remembered was falling, seeing the gravel driveway rising up to meet him. Before that, he remembered feeling something cold sliding into his back on his right side. He'd been feeling pretty proud of himself for finally taking action against someone threatening someone he loved, and pretty clever for saving that nice shard of glass for just this situation, and then immediately he'd felt the reprisal, something far worse invading his insides and disrupting his bodily functions.

"We didn't think we'd be seeing you again, son," a second voice added. "At least, not so soon."

Al blinked and looked to see Dad staring down at him. Dad being Charles Mackenzie. "What?" he asked in confusion.

"That wasn't a very smart thing to do," the first voice said, and Al turned to see Sam staring down at him on his other side.

"Oh, fuck," Al groaned. "Don't tell me I'm down the well again."

"Well, it's not as far down this time," Dad said.

"I met Uncle Richard," Al said, apropos of nothing. "He knows he's my real father now. I don't think he's overjoyed about it."

"Well, he wouldn't be, would he, the cuckolding bastard," Dad said.

"I like my half-siblings, though," Al said. "For the most part they've been welcoming, but that might change if they found out we were more than just cousins, and I think they might have suspected something was up tonight, after Emma's little slip."

Dad nodded shrewdly. "Gaining half-siblings hasn't done your health any good, though."

"Oh, you mean my being on the ground?" Al asked. "About that. Can I get up?"

"Nobody's stopping you," Sam said. He offered his hand, and Al grabbed it and pulled himself to his feet. 

When he noticed his body was still on the ground, though, he gasped. "Holy fuck! Am I dead?"

"No, you're not dead," Sam said. "You're talking to us, aren't you?"

"The last time I was talking to you, I was in a coma," Al said. "That was nearly dead."

"And like we said, you're not as far down the well," Dad said. "You're brain's just placed your consciousness in a safe room, so to speak, while your body does its best to repair itself."

"Repair itself?" Al looked down at his body, saw the wet spot on his back, and said, "I was stabbed, wasn't I."

"That's what your body is telling us."

He looked around, saw Agnes screaming as if she'd lost everyone she ever loved, saw Emma screaming for her Dad (it only occurred to him now that tonight was the first time she called him Dad) and felt sorry for them, wishing he could tell them he was here, that he could see them. Then he saw the two unmarked police cars with bubble lights flashing, blocking the entrance to the roundabout, and four police officers in plain clothes with guns pulled on the two goons, one of whom had dropped the knife that had his blood on it and made a poor attempt at kicking it away.

It was smart of them, Al had to admit, to use a knife instead of a gun. Knives were quiet but just as deadly, and could be used to intimidate just as effectively. If they'd been here to kill Agnes, or even to get her into their car, and it was clear they'd intended to do at least one of those things, they could have sped away and nobody over at the party would have been the wiser. 

Thank goodness for Joanie, Al thought. When Rachel had texted Lauren that the Mercers were at the party, Lauren had texted back and said she'd talked to Joanie and Joanie had talked to her superiors; they must have sent officers as fast as they could, and they couldn't have come at a better time. Wait, scratch that. If they'd come even a minute earlier, Al wouldn't have had to stab the one goon in the hand with the glass shard, and he might not be bleeding on the ground right now.

Suddenly, Al processed what his dad had just said. "Telling you? Wait, my body is talking to you two? So, you're not just figments of my imagination?"

Sam and Dad looked at each other. "It's a bit complicated," Sam said. "Obviously, we have to be your creations, because if we're in your head then we have to have arisen from your memories and from impressions learned from others. But we can be your creations and also expressions of another entity that is at this moment cauterizing the wound in your liver and stopping the bleeding."

Al reared back and would have tripped over his body if he'd been solid. "Wait a minute," he said. "Wait a goddamned minute! Are you saying... are you... the nanobots?"

"Yes and no," Dad said. "As Sam said, it's a bit complicated. What's travelling through your bloodstream is a mindless swarm of microprocessors, each tucked within its own jacket of proteins, like a nucleus within a cell. As with all cells, the protein jackets are porous, and that allows electrical signals to be passed from your neurons to the nanobots, as you call them. That's how the nanobots received the signal of damage to your liver and surrounding tissues from the stab wound, and why they're now at the site, accelerating clotting and repair. 

"Saying that Sam and I are these nanobots is inaccurate, though. We're more like the signals passed from the nanobots along your neurons to your brain, which is interpreting them as images your brain can process. Your brain has made the choice to process them as various things; for example, while you were in your coma, it played the signals as memories, real and false, and showed you people you recognize from your past and your present. Why you're seeing just Sam and me now, I couldn't tell you, but your brain must have its reasons, subconscious ones, at least."

Al thought about that as an ambulance sounded in the distance. He looked around and saw the two goons in handcuffs, each in the back of one police cruiser. He saw two of the plain clothes police officers doing what they could for his body, which appeared to consist mostly of stanching the blood flow from his wound. He saw Rachel sprinting barefoot through the snowy lawn toward the growing crowd in the roundabout, heels in her hands, screaming his name. He saw the other two police officers trying to hold her off, and her frantic scrabbling to get past them, and felt terrible for her. In all his bravado about saving Agnes, he hadn't considered the consequences the risk he took would have on the one woman who should have been his priority, his first love.

Agnes and Emma, who hadn't left in the taxi after all, went to Rachel, and the three of them held onto each other for dear life. Al smiled and turned back to Dad and Sam. "When I talked to Rachel about you two," he said, "I described you both as a kind of Virgil to my Dante, guiding me out of the abyss and up to full wakefulness. I think my brain chose to interpret the nanobots' signals as you because, in your own way, you've both helped people, and so I knew you would help me. Dad, you helped a lot of children as a psychologist, even some of my friends, if you remember from that time we saved Danny Trybek. Sam, well, your Mister Rogers avatar was the very ideal of kindness and goodness over the entire run of his show, and then while you were wearing his skin you helped Rachel work out her issues and improve her relationships with her mom and her friend."

Sam and Dad looked at each other and shrugged. "Well, that's certainly one explanation," Dad said.

"So, what happens next?" Al asked.

"Let's hope that the ambulance gets here soon, because you need to get to the hospital," Sam said. "The nanobots have done a great deal to stop the bleeding, but you've lost a lot of blood already and you'll need a transfusion. Plus, that wound still needs medical intervention, and complications might still arise."

Al nodded as he watched his cousins approaching the scene. Daphne had her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with horror at the sight of his body on the gravel. Uncle Richard's mouth hung open in dismay, and Linda turned her head into his chest, unwilling to see. Rick looked gobsmacked that such a violent episode had happened at the occasion of his son's engagement. Marie was the only one to approach the huddled mass of Rachel, Agnes and Emma and try to offer comfort; she really was the kindest of the family. Tatiana, to his surprise, rushed over to offer help to the police officers giving Al medical attention, but then he remembered her mentioning once she was a nurse. 

"Poor Rick," he said. "I bet he regrets inviting me now." 

It didn't escape his notice that the Mercers were nowhere in sight. Maybe they were comforting their daughter and his fiance. They were stuck here, though; the cops had blocked the entrance, and soon more would be coming to cordon the guests and take witness statements. He didn't know if the goons would talk, but if they were smart they'd point the finger at their employer. If Al survived the night, getting stabbed might have been worth it, if it ended up being the final nail in the Mercers' coffin.

Suddenly Al was reminded of something. "Hey, if you're speaking for the nanobots," he said, "could you tell them to stop interfering with the radio signals from my staff badge and Modo fob?"

Sam burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, Al, you're a piece of work. We're saving your life here, and you're complaining about the inconvenience of radio interference?"

Al sighed in resignation. "You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful."

To their credit, Sam and Dad stayed with him while the ambulance arrived, the paramedics loaded him into the back and drove him to the hospital, and he was put on the operating table to repair his body. They only went away when he himself went away, put under by medical sedation, he supposed, and as he went he hoped he'd wake up again.

Thanks for reading this far! This was a shorter one but it revealed a lot. If you liked what you read so far, hit "Vote" to send this title up the ranks. As none of this is remotely true, authenticity is unattainable, and I accept it as it is, but leave a comment and let me know what you think! 

Now, let's get back to Joanie and see how she deals with not just one threat to her life but two by clicking on "Continue reading."