Chapter 1

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[Edited July 14]

Everything was noise, and senseless sensation. The sound of tires screeching away. Feeling broken. My head knocking against the pavement, seeing and unseeing. My magic wasn't the best for regeneration, I hadn't trained for that. But even as I lay there bleeding I tried to knit myself back together. It was the same spell I used for a paper cut, somehow I hoped it would do something.

But an empty feeling met me, the feeling I got when a spell was beyond me. Fucking hell.

And then I was strapped down against something, a vice around my neck. Everything was blue and white, the sound of yelling, talk of 'ccs' and 'stat' and underneath it all, the sound of wheels rolling. I closed my eyes even though the voices told me to keep them open.

Somewhere else now, white and pale, cold. Freezing. The smell of disinfectant. Instantly, I hated it.

"You're telling me he has no family?" Another one of those disembodied voices, but this one felt more real.

I heard Mike's voice, deadened anger radiating off of his harsh, clipped sentences. "No, Doctor. I've already explained this. He was a foster care kid. Addict mom, deadbeat dad. Just tell me what's wrong."

Shuffling, and then. "Aside from the broken arm, and leg there's some damage to his cranium. His preorbital cortex, along with the cerebellum and right side of his brain seem to have been most damaged by the vehicular contusions-"

Mike was yelling, he never yelled. He always said he was big enough that he didn't want people to be anymore intimidated by him. "I don't understand! Make it make sense to me. Will he be okay? He looks-" Mike's voice broke off, "Tell me he'll be okay."

The doctor made a hesitant noise. "It's just- you aren't a blood relative."

"Fucking Christ-" Mike swore, "If you don't tell me whether or not he's going to be okay..." He let the threat hang open.

More shuffling papers. "Well. His memory could be impacted but as for now we have to put him in a medically induced coma. His brain tissue keeps swelling at irregular periods. We're not sure if the magic centre in his brain was most effected. It's hard to get brain scans for heavy magic users. We think he's trying to heal himself whether or not he's conscious of it. But it's interfering with our efforts so for the least amount of permanent damage we'll have to put him under." The doctor exhaled sharply.

Mike was quiet. "A coma?" He muttered under his breath, "Are you sure about this?"

The doctor's response was quick. "More than sure. We're only informing you since you've barely left the hospital in the past few days. But, and I mean this in the nicest way...You have to go now."

Mike struggled. "Can I-"

"Okay," the doctor said uncertainly. "But, be quick."

The doctor left the room, and Mike stood over me. Before the two of them had been standing just out of view and it was too painful to move my eyes let alone my neck so I had just listened.  Even with Mike in view I couldn't move or speak. I saw him clearly. He looked dishevelled, his hair all over the place, a beard forming around his mouth but mostly he looked sad. Like, something inside of him had broken and that perpetual bounce to his step was nonexistent.

Mike started crying, I'd never seen that before. "Don't die, Derrick." A lump settled in my throat as he struggled to find the words. He reached out to touch me but folded his arms across his chest instead. He seemed broader than usual, or maybe it's because I was out of it.

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