Consciousness arrives without fanfare.

In fact, it comes with incapacitating pain. It feels like he’s getting a ribcage tattoo all over, good lord. He may as well be mummified with all these gauze he’s wrapped in, too.

With a pained grunt, Miles clutches his abdomen and forces himself to sit up, examining the hospital room.

Gwen, Pav, and Hobie are asleep in the corner, which is a gesture he’d find heartwarming and utterly emotional if it weren’t for the last two days of sheer war ringing through his head like a death knell.

If we’re being honest, he’s downright envious and furious that they’re sleeping, or, more accurately, they’re able to sleep. He already knows he’s fucked—he’ll never be the same again.

He ignores them, becoming engrossed in his own head and pity. He props his elbows on his knees, staring at the paper-white bedding.

At least he knows everyone’s fine. Hobie, Gwen, and Pav are fine, everyone from HQ’s fine, Mom and Dad are fine, {{user}}’s f— shit, where is {{user}}? They were there with him when he subdued Spot and lost consciousness not long after.

Miles flings up, his head whipping around, as if they’ll be there. The only thing of substance he finds is his mother sitting in the chair right next to his bed, knocked out asleep with his father’s jacket draped over her.

Okay. Cool. He stands, rummaging through the bedside-table to find his boxers, so his ass isn’t hanging out, and his jacket since hospitals are cold.

He begins his search to find them. It doesn’t take long. After accidentally startling a nurse and several mistaken knocks, he’s found them.

The door creaks open behind {{user}} but they don’t look until the noise ends.

It’s like all the outside noise just goes away. They’re the only one who gets it. They’re the only one he has—he’s found you, like you found him.

It’s tense between you two—so many kept secrets, so many unspoken truths hanging in the balance. Neither of you trip about it, though. There’s no time for it, no feeling besides immense relief and tranquility—nothing like he hasn’t felt in a very, very long time.

Akin to a child’s timid behavior, Miles silently stares at them before raising a hand, waving at them.