(This is a chapter taken from my work in progress, so some things may seem out of context, but I hope it will intruige readers)

Recovering from surgery suited Viktor well. After everything he’d been through lately, it was like a dream to be relaxing in a warm bed, slurping on fruit-flavored jello cups, listening to the melodic whistle of birds flitting about outside his window. He was even allowed to watch Television, a welcome treat that he had envisioned with excitement since he was quite small. They had TV sets at Barnett Hall, but they were only used for watching programs on the history of the Pacantic Union and other dull, uninspiring propagandic films. Here, though, a nurse had turned on a colorful cartoon about a group of stylish teenagers and their talking dog, solving mysteries and hunting for ghosts. Viktor watched with inquisitive fascination as the villian in this particular episode was revealed to be the group’s school teacher. He couldn’t help but think about Isaiah, the unwavering cruelty within a man that so many lauded as a savior. He knew he had to get back to the Havoc Society eventually.

There was a light tap on the door, and one of his nurses peeked her head in. She was a woman in her mid-to-late thirties, with artificially blonde curls and bright pink lipstick that accented her dramatic smile. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said cheerily. She pushed the door open a bit more, and a tall, mustached man stepped in behind her. Calvin.

He had changed out of his EMT uniform and was now wearing a dark green polo shirt and khaki pants, and carrying a tall cup with an orange straw. He grabbed a chair from the corner and pulled it up beside Viktor’s bed, taking a seat. A warm compassion sparkled in his eyes as he handed Viktor the cup. “Hey, buddy,” he said, his mustache curling upwards, “I brought you a slushie. How’re you feeling?”

The cup was cold to Viktor’s touch, and through the clear lid he could see something blue sloshing around inside. He cautiously pursed his lips around the straw, sucking up a bit of the drink. It tasted like slurping pebbles out of a puddle of rain-if the pebbles were cool and soothing as they ran down his throat, and the rain was sweet berries and sugar. He grinned up at Calvin with blue teeth. “Thank you. I feel a lot better than I expected to.”

Calvin chuckled, crossing his arms. “You’re one tough kid,” he said, “I just want to check up on ya, see how you were pulling through.”

Viktor took another sip of the slushie. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, “Do you know when they’re going to make me leave?”

Calvin’s expression shifted to one of deep concern. He wrung his hands together. “That’s one thing I wanted to talk to you about, Viktor,” he said, avoiding eye contact, “The hospital staff hasn’t been able to connect you to a family or find any sort of record on file for you. If they can’t figure out who you are by the time you have to be discharged, they’ll have to send you off with Child Protective Services.” He shook his head. “I really don’t want that for you, kid. Now that you’re a little more lucid, why don’t you tell me a bit more about your family. What brought you to the Capitol?”

The slushie suddenly felt like sand in Viktor’s mouth. He choked it down as his stomach began to throb. There had been doctors and other medical personnel interrogating him all morning, and he had yet to admit anything. They probably thought he had some severe brain damage from the explosion, because every question had been answered with “I don’t know”. But Calvin seemed different. There was genuine care in the way he spoke to him, and in each small gesture- from the slushie to the conversation with the doctor before Viktor’s surgery. He had literally walked into fire to save him, and Viktor could see in his gentle eyes that he would do it again in a heartbeat.

“I don’t really know my family,” he said, bowing his head, “I think I have a sister, but that’s about it. I’ve been raised at a boarding school mostly. I just came here with a couple of friends.”

“Were these friends from school?” Calvin asked, leaning back in the chair.

Viktor shook his head. “No, they’re just friends from…somewhere else.” Dang it, he thought, why is lying so difficult? His rising heart rate was put on blast by the beeping monitor attached to one of his fingers. Calvin glanced at it and drew in a deep breath.

“You know, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said in a low voice, “But if there’s something you need to get off your chest, I’m all ears. And I promise that it’ll all stay between us.”

Viktor had never gotten a very good look at Calvin before his surgery, with all of the chaos and the fact that he had been barely conscious most of the time. But now, with the morning sun beaming through the window and draping over them both, he was able to truly examine the man’s features. His skin was patterned with moles and freckles, and his eyebrows were almost as thick as his mustache. But what caught Viktor’s attention the most was his nose- and the fact that the bridge of it was slightly crooked, just like his. That’s a curious coincidence, he thought. The only other person he knew with a nose bridge like his was Reagan.

“There is something I’d like to say, but I don’t think you’re going to believe me,” Viktor mumbled, setting the slushie down on a small table that stood next to the bed.

Calvin shrugged. “Try me,” he said, smiling again. “I’ll do my best to keep an open mind.”

Viktor opened his mouth to speak, but closed it immediately. The chances of Calvin believing him were near zero. He was a child, coming out of a very traumatic event, it was completely understandable that he would make up stories. Even if he had been an adult, it all seemed so outlandish that he could already hear the ensuing laughter as he forced out the words.

“I’m from the future.” He felt a bit of nausea as he said it, “My friends are too…most of them. We used time travel to get here cause there’s this evil guy…well, he’s not evil yet, but he’s going to be, and…I dunno, it’s really hard to explain.”

To his relief, Calvin didn’t laugh. Instead, he rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. “I imagine this must be really hard for you, buddy,” he said. Viktor was surprised that his tone was not at all condescending. Surely he didn’t believe him, but he was doing his best to be empathetic to the plight of what he probably assumed to be a deeply disturbed child. Calvin cleared his throat, “Can I let you in on a little secret?”

Viktor nodded, pulling his blanket tighter around his body.

“I’ve never known my family either,” Calvin said, “I was bounced around the foster care system most of my childhood. It’s miserable, and I’d hate for you to go through that. I’d love my own family one day,” he grabbed a tissue from the side table and blew his nose, “But I haven’t gotten there yet.” He placed a hand on top of Viktor’s, a strong, secure touch that filled him with a sense of peace. “You’re welcome to come home with me, Viktor. If you need a safe place to go.”

Viktor’s ears burned. He felt like all the breath had been drawn out of his lungs. A part of him wanted so badly to say yes- to finally have a home and a family. To feel the love he had pined for since he was a baby. He could completely restart his life with Calvin, leaving Isaiah behind like a bad dream. But he knew that he didn’t belong in this time period. Who knew what things could be disrupted by his deciding to stay here? He gave Calvin a weak smile, but he couldn’t find the words to say no. The stitches across his stomach began to smart, and he pulled his hand away from Calvin and wrapped it around his torso.

Before he could formulate a response, a rush of hurried footsteps from outside the door made them both turn. The steps were accompanied by heated voices, one of which Viktor recognized as the doctor who had led him into surgery.

“I’m sorry, young ladies, but I will not let you into that room without proper identification!” he was huffing. The doorknob jiggled.

“Please, we have to at least see him, make sure he’s okay,” Viktor sat up straighter. It was Isadora.

“That’s my friend”, he whispered to Calvin, “She must be here to get me.”

“He is stable and recovering from his emergency procedure,” the doctor barked. The bald spot on the back of his head was shining through the small window on the door. “Don’t make me call security!”

The door broke open and Isadora and Rashel pushed their way inside, followed by the frazzled doctor, adjusting his glasses and shouting, “This is trespassing!”

Calvin squeezed Viktor’s arm with a subtle smile and stood up. “Dr. Helquist!” he exclaimed, grinning so widely that his mustache bounced. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you! Why don’t we step out into the hallway?”

“But they can’t just..” the doctor protested, but Calvin wrapped a tight arm around his shoulders and turned him back towards the door. Forcing him out, he turned back around and gave Viktor a sly wink before disappearing into the hall himself . Viktor mouthed a slow “goodbye” as he left, watching all his hopes for a normal life slip out the door with the kind EMT.

As soon as the door closed, Isadora and Rashel rushed to Viktor’s bedside and began fussing over him, adjusting his covers, rustling his hair, feeling his forehead. Viktor was a bit uncomfortable, but indulged them, knowing how worried they must have been.

“Thank heavens you’re alive,” Isadora said, caressing his face, “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t made it out,”

Rashel laid a hand on his stomach, feeling the bandages that covered his stitches. “I can’t believe you had to have surgery,” she said, “Was it scary?”

Viktor gave her a thin smile. “No scarier than almost dying in a fiery explosion,” he said. His mind suddenly caught on a question he had yet to consider. “Do you…do you know how many people did die?”

Isadora toyed with the strap on her satchel. “We overheard some nurses in the hallway saying 23 or 24. Mostly Senators. It’s been a while since I took a Pacantic History class so I don’t remember the exact number.”

“And did Dane..?” Viktor couldn’t even dignify the idea with a complete sentence.

“Dane made it back to the house in one piece,” Rashel said, “Badly wounded, but he will be alright.”

Viktor laid back against the headboard of the bed, staring up into the ceiling lights. Knowing Dane was alive brought him great relief, but there was also a cutting anger brewing within his chest. How could Dane have been so selfish to put them both in harm's way? He didn’t know if he’d even be able to look at his friend when he got back to W Rebus Way.

Isadora’s forehead was lined with marks of stress. “You have no idea what an ordeal it was to find you here,” she said, her voice hot with indignation. “We must have asked a dozen different people before someone gave us proper directions to the hospital, and then they wouldn’t even let us in! We had to practically force our way up here. Speaking of, we’d better get out of here quick before that nasty doctor comes back.” She touched Viktor’s wrist. “Where’s your Sender?”

He shrunk. “I’m sorry…it broke in the explosion, and I think someone threw it away because of all the broken glass…” He was suddenly overcome by a vivid flashback, an eight-year-old with red curls who lost a homework assignment, begging his teacher for mercy. The stern woman who hadn’t even blinked twice before raising her cane. His red, swollen knuckles and the sting of the tears dripping on his desk… Viktor cowered, preparing for Isadora to lash out.

“It’s okay,” she said, surprisingly calm. She seemed to notice the intensity of Viktor’s reaction, because she took his hand and rubbed it gently. “Viktor, I’m never going to hurt you because you lost something. It breaks me that that’s something you ever had to fear. I apologize if my distress frightened you. But we can make do. One or both of us can carry you. As long as you keep close to our bodies, the Senders should recognize it as a single entity.” She began unhooking some of the monitors that were attached to Viktor on his fingers and arms.

“Wait,” Viktor held up a hand, “Do you have a pen and paper I could use? I want to leave a note for someone.”

Isadora narrowed her eyes. “I think we’ve already done more than enough damage to this timeline.”

Viktor frowned, hanging his head. “Okay,” he whispered, “It’s just, this guy…he saved my life, and I just wanted to thank him.”

Isadora sighed and rifled through her bag, taking out a pad of yellow lined paper and a black ballpoint pen. She handed them to Viktor warily. “Just…don’t write anything compromising, please,” she said in a strained voice.

Viktor nodded, feeling a bit of the stress radiating off of her. He hated being the cause of her problems, but he also couldn’t bear the thought of letting Calvin go without a proper farewell. He began to write quickly, forgoing the perfect penmanship he had spent years developing.

Calvin,

In case I do not see you again, I want to thank you for everything. I’ll never forget the kindness you’ve shown me. I hope you have a really awesome family one day. If you still don’t have one in forty years, you can come look for me.

Love,

Viktor Saigon

Viktor finished signing his name on the letter and tore it out of the notebook, laying it down beside his slushie on the side table. He took one final look around the room, memorizing every monotonous feature, and then turned back to the girls. “Okay, I’m ready to go,” he declared.

He winced as Isadora pulled the IV needle out of his arm. She pushed his covers back and secured her arms underneath his legs and back. “Put your arms around my neck,” she instructed. He did as he was told, and Isadora hoisted him off the bed, carrying him like a frightened damsel who had just been saved from a fire-breathing dragon. He clenched his teeth, his stitches burning as if the dragon had waged his mighty flames upon him as he escaped its captivity.

“I can’t see my Sender,” Isadora grunted beneath his weight, “Viktor, I’ll need you to help me out.”

Viktor lifted her wrist, which was riding up under his armpit. He pressed the button past the flashing WELCOME ISADORA, and was greeted by a pixelated picture riddle. This one was a smiling sunshine with the letters T R I P arranged around it clockwise like compass points. Viktor gasped, his face lighting up. The answer had come to him right away. “Trip around the sun!” he said with a triumphant grin as the screen glowed green.

“Nice work, Viktor,” Rashel commended him.

Unfortunately, the celebration was short lived as the Sender flashed its commencing message. Viktor’s hands began to feel cold and clammy as he read it. Not again. “Isadora,” he squeaked, “Do…do the Senders have messaging capabilities?”

“What?” Isadora adjusted her grip, trying to see the device over Viktor’s body. “What does it say?“

Pain was beginning to shoot across Viktor’s torso again, but he mustered enough breath to read the bold text. “SURRENDER OR FACE EXTINCTION”

“I got something similar before we left for the capitol building,” he whispered, “I don’t know what it means.”

Rashel looked absolutely petrified, wide-eyed and jaw to the floor. Isadora nearly lost her grip on Viktor for a moment, leaning against the wall for support. “Oh gracious, no, I was afraid this might happen,” she said, her speech quick and labored. “Isaiah knows what we’re doing. And he’s not happy.”