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I ith a jolt, wanting to scream There’s pain, everywhere in my body

But around me, all I hear is the mundane hum of machines The murmur of quiet voices in the distance Before I open my eyes, I knohere I am

My lashes flutter Each eyelid weighs a thousand pounds My mouth is full of sand When I lick my lips to wet them, the skin cracks I hiss in pain

There’s an IV needle in my arms White sheets tuck ray-blue walls with generic art hung here and there Even the sunlight is dilass

The hospital I’ve been here before Too many times

A chair creaks Logan’s sitting besidethe limits of the poor hospital chair He hasn’t noticed I’m awake yet His dark head is in his hands, his face bared He’s not hiding behind masks anymore

I watch hie form in the Thinker’s pose He’s a sculptor’s wet dream The muscles of his shoulders, the veins on his forearms—he’s rolled up his shirt sleeves, the white fabric straining with the bulge of his biceps The handsome slope of his jaw

I must’ve made some sound, because he raises his head

“Daphne,” he murmurs

I blink up at hi from the drea under the sunshine, it was only a o…

But the monster always comes, doesn’t it?

I’ll never be able to escape It was stupid to ever think I could

I can calculate how long I’ve been here by the length of stubble on Logan’s face One, maybe two days?

I open my cracked lips “Water…”

He offers o, I cared for oes around

“Where?” I rasp as soon as I can get the word out

“New Olympus General The closest hospital to Thornhill was a shithole, so I had them medivac you here”

“Ah” I leton the roof of a hospital, loud enough to be heard over the helicopter blades I want to smile but the muscles of my face feel weak

“How long?” I ask

“You’ve been here thirty hours” He captures ainst his bristly jaw and find the strength to setting into with me