(Author’s POV)
Myra was lying in the bed, her face utterly pallid and pasty, almost lifeless. Her heavily strapped, patched-up body was a painful sight to watch.
All of a sudden, in her sleeping state, she started to make low grunting sounds as her hands trembled while her eyes were still tightly shut. Her face turned into a grimace.
This action of hers broke his sleep. He had been by Myra’s bedside since god knows when. His eyes were bloodshot and groggy. He reached for her hands and muttered, his voice low, gruff, husky, "You are~ .... You are awake?" He felt relieved. But soon, Myra’s grunts turned up a volume or two. His face etched with worry as he asked, "What happened? Why are you~ ...." he quickly pressed the emergency button to call the medical staff.
Then, he once again clasped Myra’s seemingly bony, needle-stricken hand and rubbed it in circular motion while saying, "Relax~ .... breathe~ .... inhale~ .... exhale~ .... Yeah, good. You are doing well. Slowly, blow it in and release it out." He encouraged her to repeat the process while caressing her bandaged cheek until she felt composed and her body didn’t shake under his touch.
He was about to utter something when the team of elite doctors he had asked to be on standby walked in. They all crowded Myra when one of the nursing staff said to him, her tone professional, "You need to wait outside. We have to examine the patient’s condition." He nodded and headed towards the door. As he clutched the door handle, he turned around to look at Myra’s gaunt face, exhaled a sigh and then completely walked out of the room.
He stood by the door, listening to everything that was going on inside. The questionnaire session went on for quite some time. The occasional answers from Myra’s side told him how much pain she was bearing. It was clearly reflected in her exhaustion-filled, tremoring voice.
Involuntarily, he fisted his hands and bit his lower lip until it turned crimson in shade. Then he heard Myra’s throaty voice, barely audible voice, "Doctor~ .... What am I doi~ng here? Who brou~ght me?"
Listening to her question, his breath hitched as the doctor answered Myra truthfully. What followed it was utter silence. Myra didn’t say a word, which made him all the more nervous.
The door slid open, and out came the doctor and her team. She looked at him and said, her tone remaining professional, "The patient, we have finished the initial examination. There seems to be no sign of nerve damage in her brain. But only after conducting a thorough scan can any confirmation be given. You may go inside now."
He nodded, "Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much."
She smiled at him briefly and, after giving his shoulder a light pat, went away. Other doctors and nurses followed her as well.
He glanced at the door, let out a long, deep breath and stepped inside. His steps were light; he was walking as if treading on ice.
Myra was now lying in an upright position. Her eyes followed him, and as soon as she saw who it was, they dilated. She voiced, though it was barely above a whisper, "Al~ .... Alaric?"
He flinched, listening to her words, but didn’t halt his steps. He felt weirdly icky in his heart. The familiarity with which she called him Alaric made him uncomfortable, extremely uncomfortable.
The closer he came, the more Myra noticed something unusual about him. He settled in front of her and asked, his voice soothing, "How are you feeling now? Do you feel dizzy? Is your head hurting?"
Myra observed his eyes as well as the way he talked. She was sure now, as she mumbled, "You are~ .... you are not~ .... Alaric. You~ ... are Brave Everests?
He licked his lips and nodded, "Yeah~ ...."

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