Command Me To Be Well [Completed]

17 - Out of respect

His right leg has fractured in eleven places. Some of his ribs have shattered. Half of his body has burned, including one side his face. There are some other injuries too, listed on a long and factual medical paper I obtained, abusing the best threats I could make up in my half-coherent state.

Of course, I want to see him. Of course, they don't let me in. The risk of infection is too high. I suspect they also want to protect me from the sight. I tell them that I won't faint, no matter how terribly he looks. They tell me that, with all due respect, they are still sure I would.

I try not to imagine what they're talking about.

Timur reports everything he knows to me. Against all odds, after eliminating the queen, six members of the squad somehow managed to fight their way back to the Gate. They almost were able to join the main forces when Master Auberon was attacked. He was falling back to protect the formation.

He was found when the battle was over and the rescue teams were looking for survivors. They only brought him back to the base out of respect, not because they suspected him to be alive. He looked a hundred percent dead. The injuries he suffered seemed incompatible with life.

"To an extent, they don't only seem, they are, in fact," says Timur, burying his face in his hands. "No one knows how he's made it until now."

"He's strong." I shrug. "That's how."

That moment, a new daily routine starts for me. Each and every day begins the same way. First thing in the morning, I invade the medical chief's room with my two questions.

One. Is he still alive?

Two. Can I see him?

I always receive the same answers.

One. Yes.

Two. No.

I'm still happy with it. But my days are very long. I know that I have to remain strong, but all I can think about is him. As if my thoughts would be enough to make him breathe, again and again, never stopping.

I try to occupy myself with menial tasks around the Gate. There are many. The reconstructions keep everyone busy.

I also receive some messages from the Council. The subjects aren't interesting enough to pique my curiosity. At the moment, I highly doubt that subjects are existing in the world, outside that intensive care room, that I could find interesting enough to deal with. But Timur says he's going to kick my ass if I delete them again without reading, so I give my opinion on a few things they asked. The lunatics in the Council are so eager to know what I think, as if it really mattered. I don't understand them. My world is narrowed to the hospital wing.

On the seventh day, he regains his consciousness.

The very first thing that comes out from his mouth is an order.

I'd find him kind of funny, being in perfect commander mode the very moment he returns from beyond the veil, if the order wasn't a restraining one. Regarding me. Stating that I'm not allowed to enter the intensive care zone under any circumstances.

No one dares to tell me about it, of course. Except for Timur. He has to. I'm too eager to visit him to be successfully kept away with bullshit.

"Why?" I ask him, when he informs me about the master commander's decision.

"He's terribly wounded," he sighs. "Half of his body is ruined. He's not in the state to receive visitors."

"But he's apparently in a good enough state to give orders." I grimace. "Is it only me, or is there a slight contradiction?"