The Dragon

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

"A coma?"

"Jesus."

I looked at Six and Three, who sat on the other side of the table from me at breakfast the next morning. They both looked somber, and so weird without their black BDUs. Instead of dressed like warriors, they looked like a couple of exhausted college students. Baggy sweats and matching hoodies, with Six's pulled up over his head because he was apparently cold. Welcome to winter in the underworld.

"It's to help him heal," I said, but that didn't really help the situation, "We should be okay... physically anyway. Mentally, I'm not sure."

"Four was never right mentally," Three said dryly, "The guy had a short fuse and snapped at the smallest provocation. He was always kinda fucked up."

"It wasn't his fault," Six muttered, poking around at his eggs, "I'm sorry, but these eggs just look weird to me. Where's the yolk?"

"You've never had scrambled eggs?" I asked. Six scowled.

"Scrambled?"

"The yolk is mixed in with the white. So it makes scrambled eggs. Did you want a fried egg?"

"Hell no," Three said, making Six look at him, "These are amazing."

"They taste weird," Six deadpanned, "I like my yolk and white separate. It fits on toast better. This stuff jiggles like it's from another universe."

"Quit being picky," Three scolded, making Six roll his eyes, "Eat the damn food or starve."

"Or," I pointed out, "Or he could eat something else." Three gave me a droll stare and Six shrugged, pushing his eggs around on his plate. Three scowled at that and reached over, grabbing the fork from him and spearing some eggs, putting it to Six's mouth, where Six pursed his lips up in refusal.

"How old are you?" I asked, looking at Three, who shook his head.

"Me? How old is he? Are you looking at this?" He asked, pushing the fork at Six's closed lips. Six made a mmph sound as a response.

"If he doesn't want to eat it, don't make him," I said.

"He's not getting anything else if he doesn't eat it."

"He can if he wants to."

"Can he?" Three asked dryly. I nodded, making Three scowl at that. I got up and went to the kitchen to fry up an egg and came back about five minutes later with a perfectly fried egg that I pushed across the table to Six, who brightened at that. Three rolled his eyes as he watched Six punch a fork into the yolk so it oozed all over the plate.

"What happened to like your yolks and whites separate?" He asked. Six frowned.

"I don't like them mixed together."

"They're mixed together right now."

"They are not."

"Are to."

"Are not."

"So," I said, drawing their attention away from the argument, "We should be getting your test results back any time now. Are you nervous?" Six and Three shared wary looks before nodding. I nodded in response, understanding completely. It was certainly scary to meet your parents for the first time. Would they accept you? Would they love you? Would they even like you? The wonders were endless, but I had strong hope for them. If their parents were who I thought they were, they would love them unconditionally. The thought was heartwarming. I was excited to see them connect with their parents.