“I get it, I know it was awful—”
“No, you don’t!” he yelled, pointing a finger at her. “You don’t know what it’s like, not until you have children of your—” He broke off and turned away, dragging a hand down his face.
Her mouth snapped shut when she realized what he’d almost said. Never before had he yelled at her like this. Still, her anger quickly dissipated, leaving her weak and wobbly. She perched on the bed, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside her.
A minute later, she swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “I really am sorry, you know.”
Peter nodded, still facing the other way.
He ran a hand over his eyes before crossing the room and picking something up from the corner. Only when he thrust it onto her bed did she realize it was her katana in its scabbard. Peter didn’t say a word, just pointed his finger at something.
She peered at it with a frown. “There’s a… dent?”
“This is where the sixth bullet hit. I believe that’s where your heart is?”
Her throat went dry as she stared at the dent in the matte-black metal.
“Remember what you said when I gave you the first prototype?” Peter asked.
She looked him in the eyes, crossing her arms. “It’s too bulky.”
Peter shook his head. “Still think so?”
“I’m used to it.” She stroked the katana’s length, pushing the invisible button to unlock the sword. “At least the sword wasn’t damaged.”
Peter waved his hand. “That blade will outlive us all. But,” he put his index finger under her chin, pulling her gaze away from the sword, “from now on, it’s body armor all the way. I mean it.”
She grimaced. “You know I hate it.”
“Like you hate everything that helps keep you safe?”
“It’s too—”
“Bulky?”
She expelled a resigned sigh. “Fine, whatever. We’ll be done with the Commandos soon anyway.”
A few seconds passed in silence, a distant murmur of the others’ voices reaching them through the wall. With each passing moment, Peter’s gaze darkened, returning to its previous state.
“Something else happened while I was out,” she said, reading his gloomy expression. “What is it?”
“We’ll have a briefing today at five. You’ll—”
The door swung open, Doc striding in without acknowledging Peter.
“Well, good morning to you,” Peter said with a wan smile.
“Uh-huh.” Doc went straight for the clipboard on Pain’s nightstand, not bothering to put on his white coat. “Get back in bed.”
She obeyed, reclining on the pillow as Doc flipped through Tiffany’s notes. He clicked his tongue and turned to Pain.
She held up a hand. “No more prodding and poking. Tiffany’s already done all that. Nothing hurts, no nausea, nada. I’m fine.”
Doc looked at Peter over his shoulder. “She’s fine. She’s had three holes in her, I nearly killed myself saving her, and she’s fine.”
Peter smiled with the corner of his mouth.
“What do you mean, killed yourself?” Pain asked. She slid forward on the bed so Doc could take a look at her back.
He switched on a light over the bed, and she pulled the covers up to her chest as he rolled up her tank top. His fingers slid over her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Feel anything here?” he asked.
“Aside from tickling? No.”
“And here?”
“Nothing. How did it heal so fast?”
Peter raised a brow. “I’d like to know the answer to that question, too, if you don’t mind.”
“It didn’t heal,” Doc muttered, bending down to peer at the bandage on her side. “I healed it.”
“You what? Ouch!” Pain grimaced when he pulled at the band-aid that held the bandage in place.
“Did you just heal this one?” he asked, pointing at the reddened spot on her side. She saw stitches, now useless.
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Doc folded his arms on his chest, frowning. “This isn’t normal.”
“Oh, really?” she said with a humorless smile, pulled her top down and leaned back on the pillow.
“I mean, I was pretty sure you’d wake up, but fully healed like this? This doesn’t feel right.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m all healed. Maybe you can make a few more holes in me and then not tell me how you healed them, too.” She stared at Doc, crossing her own arms, so they mirrored each other’s pose.
He let out a sigh, stepping back to sit on a bed. “How much did the others tell you?”
“Nothing. Chad said I should speak to you.”
Doc nodded. “Remember back in July when Marco nearly got killed and Chad said you brought him back?”
She blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Yes?”
“He came to me a couple weeks later and told me more about it. Said he thought you healed Marco without realizing it, and maybe it was something I should try.”
“Bullshit.” She grimaced. “I don’t know where he got that idea. I gave Marco CPR, and his body healed itself, that’s all.”
“If it was bullshit, you wouldn’t be here.” The intensity in Doc’s gaze made her pull back. “You couldn’t see it, but Chad did. He said there was this big sphere of light, and you didn’t even see Marco was breathing again, until Chad broke through it. And that’s, by the way, how he knew he could break through Eugene’s shield.”
Pain looked away, remembering the early morning outside Eugene’s building. How she’d confronted Chad about his reckless move, and he’d said he’d known he could do it.
“I’d heard about something similar once.” Doc’s words made her look back up at him. “So I figured if two people had witnessed it, I might at least try. After all, you did it accidentally, so how hard could it be if I actually practiced it?”
“Did it work
