XI

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When I woke I was alone. The bed next to me was empty, the sheets strewn and the pillows crooked, but the familiar dark figure that had formerly occupied it was noticeably absent.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for some reason as to why he was gone, but there was nothing. The room was exactly the same as it had been when I fell asleep.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position, suddenly feeling lonely. I had become accustomed to having another presence in the room, even if he didn't talk much. When he was there, I didn't feel alone, and that was comforting.

It seemed like a long time before the door opened, and Mason entered, clipboard in hand.

"Where did he go?" I asked him, nodding in the direction of Kylo's empty bed.

Mason didn't look up from his clipboard, scribbling something quickly. "He left this morning, while you were still asleep."

I fought to hide my disappointment. "So, he's checked out? Gone for good?"

"Yeah, he left without a word, giving me one last murderous glare before he went, which I guess is the closest it gets to a goodbye for me." Mason gave a quiet laugh, tucking his clipboard at his side. "So he's gone, until he gets injured again, I guess."

I nodded. "And what about me? Am I free to go, too?"

Mason gave me a knowing smile. "I'd like to keep you another day or two, but I know you're itching to leave. So, yes, you're good to go. I want you on bed rest for the rest of the day, and I've scheduled you for two weeks of physical therapy starting tomorrow."

I grinned. "Great!"

He swatted me with his clipboard. "Remember, just because I'm letting you leave doesn't mean you're back to full strength. You need to be relaxing, not messing around. I don't want any more torn stitches."

I gave him a mock salute, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Looking down, I realized I was still in my hospital clothes.

"Do I have anything else to wear?" I grimaced at the bluish-gray apparel that I had been donning for several days now.

"The clothes you arrived in were torn to shreds and covered in blood, so we disposed of them." Mason thought for a moment. "Let me go see what we have."

He left, leaving me vibrating with the anticipation of finally being free of this place. It seemed like a minor eternity before Mason returned, holding a small pile of folded clothes.

"These are actually mine," he admitted, handing them to me. "But you can have them for the time being. They might be a bit large for you, but they'll work for now." He paused. "I'll step outside so you can change."

I watched him leave, then examined the clothes, which consisted of a soft dark gray shirt and loose black pants. They seemed impossibly comfortable next to the papery hospital wear. I quickly slipped them on, reveling in the touch of soft fabric against my skin. He was right—they were a bit big, but I pulled the drawstrings of the pants tight and tied a bow, and they fit well enough. I couldn't help but pull the shoulder of the shirt to my nose—it smelled like him. A small smile made its way across my face as I caught my reflection in the window. I looked like a large sock.

Nevertheless, I made my way to the door and pulled it open softly. Mason was standing outside, his back to the door so as to give me privacy. He turned when he heard the door, his eyes scanning over my new apparel, unable to hide an amused smile. I gave him a friendly shove, then pulled him in for a hug.

"Thank you. For everything." I whispered. His strong arms held me close, and I leaned my forehead against his chest. When we pulled away, he was still smiling.

"Well, you haven't quite gotten rid of me yet."

I gave him a questioning look.

"I'll be directing your physical therapy—I told you that, right?" He tilted his head slightly to the side.

"No, I think you forgot to mention that." I grinned. "So you get to torture me for two more weeks?"

Mason gave a breathless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess I do. Come on." He gestured for me to follow him.

Together we walked through the many winding hallways and at last emerged into the main hospital wing. It was fairly empty, with the exception of a few nurses scurrying around to make up the beds or dispose of trash—my guess was that the troops were out on another mission today.

Mason seemed to read my mind. He gave me a sideways glance. "The troops leave in about fifteen minutes for today's mission. If you hurry, you might be able to catch them in time."

In time for what? I wondered, but I didn't say anything. Instead, I gave Mason another smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you then."

With that, I took a deep breath and took my first steps out of the hospital wing. I was free.

I made my way down the many halls that had become so familiar over the years, navigating the route to the barracks I called home. At last I reached the familiar door, and I entered the passcode. The door slid open.

Inside, my fellow troopers were gearing up for battle. Each of them were almost fully dressed in their armor, save for their helmets. A cheerful buzz of conversation set the mood, and I smiled softly. I was home.

As I entered, there was a quiet gasp, and the room fell silent. Rows and rows of wide eyes turned to stare at me, and I became acutely aware of my heart pounding in my chest.

"You're alive?"


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