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She lets herself pass out pretty much immediately once she sees the last of the thing be lifted free from her chest–it was a struggle to make it that long. She’s pretty sure Evnaephi can stitch her back up, and if Evnaephi can’t, and she dies on the table, well–
She wakes up. Her throat is what feels the worst, at the moment, a tickle growing at the back that makes her want to cough, but if the tongue-numbing, ear-splitting pain she’s already experiencing is any clue, coughing would be a very bad idea right now. She tries to swallow, and that idea turns out to be nearly as bad, pain-wise. She whimpers.
“Oh!” Says a familiar mechanical voice off to her left. “You’re awake! Zakki said you might need something for the pain, do you want that?”
She can’t speak, but she does manage a little nod, and Gary hurries to the next room. She’s in a bed, she realizes: no longer in the back room of the temple on the operating table, but possibly a sick room, or bed for the injured. It’s unexpectedly nice, being tucked into a soft, clean bed: probably wouldn’t have gotten this kind of service in whatever rented makerspace or out of the way den she would have picked, and she’s glad now that Nemei suggested it.
Gary comes back with Zakki, who opens up their first aid kit and dabs a bit of salve on Hope’s neck and chest, and does a bit of minor spellwork, and asks how she’s feeling, and if she needs anything else. Hope whispers “ice,” thinks better of trying to say it any louder, and tries to mime typing out something on a stone surface–and oh, there’s the pain in her chest, lying in wait for her to move her arms. Luckily, Zakki gets the whispered message, and sets off to find some ice. Gary, meanwhile, starts a minor engineering project trying to prop her arms at such an angle that she will be both comfortable and able to type on a stone. They more or less jointly manage it, in the five or so minutes it takes Zakki to return with a small bladder of ice, which is then thankfully spread over Hope’s throat and upper chest. She’s able to sleep again after that.
When she comes to again, the ice has melted, and Gary is across the room, humming softly to himself as he fiddles with the cooling unit in his leg. She’s glad for the pillow infrastructure he has provided for her, because her stone hasn’t slipped far from her hands, and she can retrieve it and prop it back in line of sight without pain. Hi, she texts him. What are you working on?
He stops humming with a little noise of excitement as he sees the notification on his own stone. He reads, then looks over at her, face display flashing a brilliant smile.
“Oh, just fixing a crooked shelf, nothing special. Glad to see you awake and alert! Is the pain a little better now?”
She nods.
“That’s wonderful! Evnaephi and Zakki have done a little bit more healing while you were napping, but they said they don’t want to take it too fast–Zakki can explain the theory better than I can, but it was something about healing magic reverting the body to a base state, and how the device we took out of you had shifted what was normal, and so your body needs time to shift to a new normal as you recover–the Asmun clerics discussed it, and they’ve had more experience with artificing prostheses than either Zakki or Evnaephi, so we agreed to listen to them. That’s why you haven’t just woken up healed–but it won’t be long before you’re back to normal! A couple days, at most.”
She’s smiling by the end of his explanation. She was sort of worried she wouldn’t wake up at all. A few days don’t worry her.
Evnaephi visits soon after, to see if she can take water. She can, slowly, and only if it’s ice cold. But it’s another point in favor of her being able to actually live all the way through this; so far she has slept, communicated, problem solved, and begun to see to her own sustenance since cutting herself completely free. These are the smallest victories, but they do feel like larger milestones, given the timing. This life is new; this self feels new; she is keeping careful record, these first, holiest days, on what she’s doing with this latest experiment.
Vwotdrig’s been waiting outside while she recovers, Evnaephi tells her. Seeing the look on her face, she adds that Hope doesn’t have to see him. Hope doesn’t want to; this life is new, and saying no is new, but being kind to a man who has stayed outside your room worrying if you’ll die is also new. Tell him I want to see him, but later, she types. Evnaephi gives her forearm a little squeeze of understanding.
“Nemei keeps stopping by to check on you, too,” Evnaephi says, with a little smile. Hope doesn’t type anything. It hurts to breathe deep, still, they notice. “Would you like me to tell them you aren’t up for visitors right now?”
Nemei can come in.
Nemei comes in almost demurely. There’s clear worry in their face, mitigated by a sharp relief when they see Hope awake and convalescent. They don’t rush to Hope’s side, but they close the distance with measured steps, then perch on the side of her bed. It’s an odd mixture of comfortable and reverent, like they were in their neighborhood church.
“It worked?” Like they need to hear it from her lips. She nods.
Nemei smiles, slowly, radiantly. “You’re free?”
Hope nods again. Her throat feels suddenly, painfully tight.
Nemei’s fingertips slide gently into the palm of one of her hands. They lean forward over her face, and Hope’s breath stops entirely–and doesn’t start again until Nemei’s forehead comes to gentle rest against hers, their nose tucked just to the right of her own. They stay that way against her for the space of a full breath, in and out, then draw slowly back. They don’t let go of her hand.
“I can’t decide whether this is the craziest or second craziest thing you’ve done this week,” they say, smiling softly. “But I’d be curious to hear your thoughts.”
Hope extracts her hand to type, I’m kind of hoping for third or fourth, by the time the week is over. Nemei reads it with an incredulous little snort.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be allowed out of bed for a bit,” grins Nemei, “for everyone’s sake.”
That’s NOT fair.
“Perhaps,” says Nemei, “I’ll make it up to you. For now, do you want me to stay with you for a while, or do you want me to let you rest?”
It’s a hard thing to say, even in writing, but getting what she wants is new, so she types, Can you talk with me until I fall back asleep? Then, because that feels raw, You don’t have to, if you don’t have time. I’m not going to be very good conversation.
“Better at it than you think, even completely silent,” says Nemei. Then they start talking about what they and Noachi did that day, and about something Pro texted to them after their arrival back on Materia, and about Ayveus and how they know him, on and steadily on in their deep, lovely voice, until Hope drifts and doesn’t remember any more.