Chapter 1.2.19 — Recovery

For the third time in a month, Emmett woke up in the biolab. The bright lights and white room were almost comforting.

Almost.

Maybe Emmett would’ve felt better about waking up if he didn’t feel like he got hit by a truck.

His entire body ached.

The only thing that Emmett could compare it to was the dull muscle ache that appeared the day after a hard workout, like there were rough coals embedded in his muscles that were still a little too warm to be comfortable.

Except that it wasn’t his muscles that ached, but his bones. Those jagged coals weren’t ground up inside his muscles—it felt like his bones were filled with them. Usually when his muscles were sore, he could find some position to rest in that relieved the tension and let the muscle relax…

Emmett couldn’t bring himself to roll over, but no matter how he adjusted his body on the bed, that dull, aching burn was always there. Nothing helped.

It was such an inconceivable, bewildering sensation that Emmett actually chuckled out loud, and immediately regretted it. His stomach muscles might not have been sore, but his ribs and breastbone most certainly were.

After a minute of gently struggling to find relief, Emmett gave up and let his body go slack. He stared up at the ceiling and focused on his breathing.

“Shit,” Emmett muttered.

“How are you feeling?”

Emmett smirked. “TINA, are you joking?”

“No. It’s a serious question.”

“My skeleton hurts.”

“That is to be expected. We kept you sedated for twenty-four hours to monitor you and allow you to avoid the worst of the pain. Since the sedation wore off, Dr. Venture and I have tried to adjust your medication to make you comfortable, but this is the extent of what we can do. Higher doses risks dependency and prolonged recovery.”

“Thanks, I think.” Emmett held his breath as he pulled the blanket higher up on his chest. “Where is everyone?”

“Dr. Venture will be in shortly. Clara is training in the Gray Room.”

Emmett almost nodded, but stopped himself. Instead, he took mental stock of his situation. He’d missed a whole day of training and might even miss more, but he’d be better off for it. Emmett had no idea how strong his skeleton would be now, but it was better than Class 1. Even if it wouldn’t affect the strength of his punches, it would help his defense. It would help him survive and allow him to grow stronger in the future.

Either way, this was the first step to getting stronger… The painful, shitty first step.

The doors to the biolab hissed open and Dr. Venture walked in. He stopped in front of the hospital bed and peered down attentively.

“How do you feel?”

“If one more person asks me that…” Emmett trailed off, unable to think of anything funny, and because his face ached.

Venture smirked. “You seem like you’re managing. Rate your pain on a scale of zero to ten. Ten being the worst pain imaginable.”

Emmett thought for a moment. “Seven, I guess.” It wasn’t overwhelming, but the sheer consistency of the pain was something else.

Venture raised an eyebrow. “Good. Better than I anticipated. Between the Mutagen-A in your system and your pain tolerance, that’s good progress. But now I’m going to need you to get up.”

“What?”

~

Over the next few minutes, Dr. Venture explained that the next phase of Emmett’s recovery would require him to get up and walk around. Moving would get his heart rate up and circulate blood and nanomachines to spur on the healing process. The impact from walking would do similarly and encourage the bond between his bones and the metal.

Emmett focused on the task at hand and tried not to think at all—not about Dr. Venture needing to help him sit up in bed, not about the pain of each step, and certainly not about leaning on a walker.

He walked a lap around his hospital bed, then sat down to catch his breath. The first few times around, Emmett blinked tears out of his eyes.

Slowly, his laps around the bed got wider. The pain abated a little more each time.

“How many laps do you want me to do?” Emmett asked, tempted to collapse and go back to sleep.

“As many as it takes.”

As Emmett walked, Venture followed a step behind, both to spur him on and to catch him if his strength gave out. To Emmett, it felt like Venture was a parent following around a toddler that had just learned to walk.

When Emmett graduated to doing two laps around the room, Venture insisted he give up the walker and balance on his own. A few more times around the room, and Emmett was gently swinging his arms as he walked.

Even now, two hours after waking up, his body still felt tight and sore. The pain was diminishing, but it felt like such a slow process that Emmett wasn’t sure if the pain was actually improving or if he was just getting used to it.

Either way, Emmett felt his enthusiasm steadily growing.

The next step was slow calisthenics. Squats, pushups, lunges, bouncing—all smooth and controlled. By this point, the aches throughout Emmett’s bones were like quiet static in the back of his mind. Now the most difficult part was trying not to worry about how well his surgical gown was tied.

Thankfully, Dr. Venture had turned away and was examining real-time readouts of Emmett’s recovery on the wall monitors.

“That’s enough,” Venture said, turning back to him. “Your recovery looks good. Now it’s time for the next step.”

Emmett felt a swell of pride and tried not to smile too broadly. “What’s next?”

“The Gray Room.”

“...Already?”

Venture disappeared through the double doors, then returned a minute later with Emmett’s backpack and a new bodysuit for him. “Put that on, then meet me outside.”

~

The walk to the Gray Room in section 005 wasn’t that bad, and the further they went, Emmett found himself both excited to train again and glad to be back in normal clothes—if a black bodysuit could be considered normal.

It was certainly better than a hospital gown. He didn’t need to worry about the strings in the back coming undone and flashing everyone.

Emmett ran fingers over his left arm and felt the bumps from the injection sights. They were all over his body, spaced out roughly every four inches over the bone, even under his hairline, behind his ears and under his chin. Everywhere except his right arm, of course.

Venture assured Emmett that they would fade over the next few weeks, but ultimately he wasn’t sure how the Mutagen-A in Emmett’s system would affect the scaring.

There wasn’t much time for idle chatting by the time they reached the training hub. Through the viewing window, Emmett could see Clara flying around in her exosuit, zipping through windows and shooting at targets with her kinetic blasts.

Emmett stared, transfixed. He’d never seen Clara move like that.

Despite her speed and the sweeping arcs as she soared through the air, she threaded through buildings without missing a beat—rarely missing a shot either. Every other time Emmett had seen her fly or fight, he’d never really been able to watch her. He’d had his own enemies to focus on.

Emmett had seen Clara use her exosuit several times in training, but now it occurred to him just how much she was holding back. There was a practiced grace and barely-contained ferocity to her movements.

“Go on,” Venture said, bringing Emmett back to the present. “No sparring yet. Start with jogging and build your way up to traversing the rooftops.” He shooed Emmett down the hall and toward the Gray Room.

~

Emmett entered the Gray Room proper and was able to watch Clara train for another few minutes before he worked up the motivation to start jogging. Despite how much less his bones ached right now, he still wasn’t thrilled about training.

Soon, Emmett sat his backpack down and forced himself to start jogging along the far edge of the Gray Room, sticking by the entrance so he didn’t get in Clara’s way. He worked on increasing both the duration and speed of his jogs.

Sometime later, Clara noticed him and rocketed over. The sudden noise surprised him, and she landed hard on the tiles beside him.

“Glad to see you’re up and about,” she said, towering over him in her stealth-gray exosuit. “How are you feeling?”

Emmett rolled his eyes at the third time he’d been asked that same question. “I’ve been better. I was going to go back to sleep, but your dad made me get up.”

Clara laughed. “Good. It was getting boring in here by myself. So, what are we doing first? Tag? Or practicing combat lesson one?”

Emmett chuckled awkwardly. He had no intention of running for his life from an overpowered super simulation.

“Venture said I should start with jogging and traversal.”

“Oh…” Clara rested her hands on her hips. “Dad really is taking it easy on you. When he said you would need time to recover, I assumed he was embellishing the surgery. I didn’t realize it would be that hard on you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t come by and check on me. You came by when I was injured before.”

Clara glanced awkwardly at the ground, her face unreadable behind her helmet. “That was different. Those were accidents. You chose this.”

Emmett was taken aback.

He hadn’t forgotten how vehemently Clara had opposed TINA’s suggestions for his improvement. She probably thought he was butchering himself. Clara had gotten so distraught she stormed out of the room. Emmett assumed she wouldn’t want to watch his surgery, but he didn’t realize that same feeling would extend to seeing him in recovery.

“Emmett, listen…”

Emmett held up a hand. “No. We don’t have to agree on everything…”

It was a half-truth. Emmett knew objectively that he and Clara weren’t going to agree on everything, but also knew that it stung not having her support. When TINA and Dr. Venture had discussed modifications with him, Emmett felt like a part of the team, like they were all working together. Not having Clara’s support felt like a step backward.

Emmett’s face hardened. “...But just so you know, I’m not stopping. I’m going to keep advancing. I’m not going to stay a Class one super.”

Clara stared down at him for a long moment, face unreadable. It felt like she was having the same existential crisis… only, she didn’t voice it.

She only nodded.

~ ~ ~