Nexus [COMPLETE]

41. Domare

(August 2013)

Winston was on the hospital bed next to mine. He looked dead. There were tracks of blood staining his cheeks, his mouth, his chin, and his ears. It was if he had bled from every orifice. He was curled up into a ball. His left wrist looked mutilated, but I knew that at least that damage was self-inflicted.

I felt...different.

I had woken up from the darkness in more pain than I had ever experienced, and the only thing I could focus on were the echoes of agony being felt by my slayer and the sounds of his screaming. Of course, I had done my fair share of screaming, too. My throat was so raw that I couldn't speak, and all attempts thus far resulted in me coughing up handfuls of blood.

Our agony had lasted for about three hours, I had been told, and none of the doctors could determine the reason for it, not that I let them get close enough to be sure. Every time one of them had approached me during my episode of pain, I had snapped at them with a mouthful of shark-like teeth, and every time since, a glare had been enough to send them on their way. That had been a new and interesting discovery, however. I was suddenly in possession of a mouthful of retractable chompers that put most predators to shame, but that wasn't what I was focused on right now.

I lay on my side, staring at Winston across the way, and just breathed. We breathed in sync now. It was fascinating. Earlier, as I had watched him, I noticed the pattern and in the interest of disharmony, had slowed my breathing.

But it hadn't worked.

Winston's body adjusted itself simultaneously with mine and stayed in synchronization. A few breathing experiments later had the same results, and I was struck with the realization that our bond had either grown exponentially stronger or that we had just never realized how strong it actually was. So much so, that in an attempt to wake him up, I had tried to cut off our bond as I often did when I wanted to be alone.

It hadn't worked.

In fact, it had hurt so strongly that I nearly passed out again, and Winston had something of a twitching fit on the other bed. After which, I decided that I would not be trying that again.

"How are you feeling?" Hazel asked from behind me. She had appeared in the medical bay scarcely an hour ago and refused to leave my side since. She had taken up an empty folding chair and sat next to my bed. I had spent most of this last hour ignoring her, but I knew I'd have to give in soon. I could sense Alex and Winter guarding the bay doors. Likely, Hazel had ordered them there.

"I'm fine," I said quietly, my back still turned to Grandmother and eyes still glue to my slayer.

"He'll be fine, too, then."

"Yes," I stated. "But we have other problems."

"You're coming into your power," she said softly.

"I have changed," I agreed. "Something is certainly different."

"It's early," she informed. "It shouldn't have started for another decade or so."

"The trauma probably caused it. I thought he'd crushed my head."

"Thank God you healed," she whispered almost desperately. "I was afraid for you, Grandson."

"I was afraid for myself."

There was a long pause, but I knew what she would ask next. "Who?"

"I'll tell you later," I replied stubbornly.

She growled and I felt her power brush against my mind.