Categories > Original > Drama > Separation
November 24, 1977
Mumbled moans alerted the nursing staff late the following morning. The sedative had worn off as well as the anesthesia, now Ray lay sobbing, unable to even so much as open his mouth to cry for help. Another syringe emptied into the IV bag, a few minutes for the pain killer to kick in, a warm, damp cloth to wipe the boy’s tear-streaked face, and Karl felt he was ready to be debriefed.
"Ray?" he asked.
Dark eyes groggy with pain and medication squinted in the dim light of the hospital room, searching for the speaker, eventually settling on Karl. It took him a belated moment to remember why Ray was having trouble focusing. Reaching, he snatched the black-framed glasses from the bedside table and set them- a bit awkwardly due to the splint and tape- on Ray’s nose. The boy winced briefly at the slight weight of glass and plastic and then seemed to collect himself. Collared in a neck brace and unable to move his head, he turned bleary brown eyes toward the little doctor.
"Don't try to talk, your jaw is broken and I'd rather you concentrate on breathing right now," Karl told him gently. "Blink once for 'yes' and twice for 'no', do you understand?"
Deliberately, Ray scrunched his eyes closed for a moment.
"Good. Do you know who I am?"
Blink.
"Very good."
Ray's attention, the fog fading, did not remain focused on the small physician; instead he had begun glancing around the room as well as he could from his fixed vantage.
"Ray," Karl asked, prompting Ray's gaze to return to him, "do you remember what happened?"
The silence seemed to thicken as Ray searched his memory. Karl was no telepath, but he had worked with several and forty years as a doctor had taught him more than a few things about expression and body language. Ray's Adam's apple slowly bobbed in an exaggerated swallow, the rise and fall of his chest becoming short and jerky.
Why villains had such a fascination with over-sized robots he would never know. Why the good guys didn’t have a legion of their own twelve-story titanium soldiers was equally beyond him. Cobalt was dealing with the thing well enough and had managed to make it trip a couple of times; attempting to damage it close-up while Viridian fired volley after volley from a distance in a dual attempt to damage as well as distract. He, as ever, just tried to stay out of the way as well as he could, holding a protective barrier around himself and each of his teammates while dodging stray shots and debris. Though it was commonly known that Cobalt and Viridian did not fight without the third arm of their triad, the villain of the week hadn’t seemed to have spotted him yet, despite his giveaway super suit of cadmium red.
The mech was huge and heavy, as such it was difficult to maneuver. Though it had plenty of firepower, it took a minute to swing the canon around and fire. By that time, one could leap out of the way to a safer location. "Safer", however, was something of a relative term in such a situation. Why did they always choose to make a mess downtown? The mayor had to be sick of all the wear and tear on the architecture. Never mind, now was not the time. One of the laser blasts had come uncomfortably close and Cadmium had only enough time to dive to one side. Hurriedly he scrambled to his feet but too late, the thing had seen him. It took another shot at him but only managed one blast before a deafening "BOOM" and stench of ozone told him Viridian had seized the moment of distraction and forced the canon to backfire, exploding itself. This, however, did not solve their problems by any stretch. The mech was still standing, its pilot still cackling madly and screaming threats. Whatever. Everyone was a little more concerned with the two-ton arms and legs of the titanium colossus. Since its artillery had been disabled, it was now taking wild swings and attempting to stomp on anyone who got too close. Cadmium shuddered as his friend’s shielding suffered blow after blow. Abruptly, as if it had suddenly remembered an urgent appointment, the robot turned and lashed out one long arm.
Crap.
Though it did not touch his body, the appendage caught him across the middle, whacking his shield like a nine-iron and sending Cadmium flying into space. Hurtling head over heels, he fought to control his momentum, to gather the necessary power and focus to use the trajectory to his advantage. However, the initial impact had left him spinning and disoriented. He had only a fraction of a second to notice it before he hit.
The brick wall burst as if hit by a canon ball, the impact sending his already tumbling thoughts reeling and shattering his shield. He hadn’t realized he’d been going so fast. Dizzy, Cadmium tried to fight through the disorientation only to realize he was still sailing through the air.
The opposite wall of the building did little more to slow him down. Most of the blow was taken by his shoulders, his body slamming into the heavy red blocks backwards. The impact stole his breath and made him wonder if his teeth had popped out of his mouth.
A third explosion of dust and rubble met the back of his head, forcing him to a halt so abrupt that it seemed to take a moment for his own weight to catch up to him. 164lbs of super hero slammed back-first into the incomplete beginnings of a skyscraper, coming to a full and final stop.
He lay there for a moment, not thinking or feeling anything. The distant, foggy shapes of Cobalt and Viridian had brought the mecha and its pilot to their knees, though the image appeared to him like blurry silhouettes of shadow puppets on a bed sheet curtain. It had gone strangely quiet, the sounds of battle becoming distant as an empty ringing filled his ears. The shouts of his teammates were vague and indistinct, they sounded as if they were calling his name. The white sound, however, was drowning them out and so he could not be sure.
It occurred to him that he should be in pain. True, every fibre of his body was trembling from adrenaline and the impact, but nothing actually hurt. Well, his neck ached and his head was bent at an odd and uncomfortable angle. He tried to move, to get up, to return to the battle to help, but found he couldn’t. The distant, stomach-clenching feeling that something was horribly wrong with his own body stole coldly across him. He could not move; that alone terrified him. What frightened him worse was the hot, stuffy feeling gathering in his chest. Struggling to struggle, to shout, to call out, Cadmium found he could not manage that either. The stuffiness was fading, but with the burning sensation had gone his ability to breathe. He gasped and heaved, watching, straining to hear, to communicate as Cobalt’s horrified face looked down on him. Viridian’s mental embrace was the last thing he knew before surrendering to the darkness.
The brown eyes that looked up at him had grown wide in panic before Ray could muster the self-control to blink.
Yes, he remembered.
"It's all right, just lie quiet," Karl soothed, resting a hand on Ray's undamaged shoulder. "You've been injured and you're in the hospital. I want you to know that even though you've been badly hurt, you're going to be all right. It's okay. You're going to be just fine. Do you understand?"
Another, less forced swallow and several minutes transpired as Ray regained his composure and offered a single blink.
"Good."
Ray was looking at him intently, eyes searching, his expression begging for answers, though all he managed in the way of a question was a weak "mph..." through his wired-shut jaw. This provoked a fit of coughing that left a thin trail of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Shh," Karl admonished, dabbing the blood away and offering a drink of water which Ray accepted gladly. "You're worn-out. Don't try to think at me right now, save your strength. Your friends will be here later and Charles can translate for you, okay?"
Blink.
Karl smiled. "All right then."
Mumbled moans alerted the nursing staff late the following morning. The sedative had worn off as well as the anesthesia, now Ray lay sobbing, unable to even so much as open his mouth to cry for help. Another syringe emptied into the IV bag, a few minutes for the pain killer to kick in, a warm, damp cloth to wipe the boy’s tear-streaked face, and Karl felt he was ready to be debriefed.
"Ray?" he asked.
Dark eyes groggy with pain and medication squinted in the dim light of the hospital room, searching for the speaker, eventually settling on Karl. It took him a belated moment to remember why Ray was having trouble focusing. Reaching, he snatched the black-framed glasses from the bedside table and set them- a bit awkwardly due to the splint and tape- on Ray’s nose. The boy winced briefly at the slight weight of glass and plastic and then seemed to collect himself. Collared in a neck brace and unable to move his head, he turned bleary brown eyes toward the little doctor.
"Don't try to talk, your jaw is broken and I'd rather you concentrate on breathing right now," Karl told him gently. "Blink once for 'yes' and twice for 'no', do you understand?"
Deliberately, Ray scrunched his eyes closed for a moment.
"Good. Do you know who I am?"
Blink.
"Very good."
Ray's attention, the fog fading, did not remain focused on the small physician; instead he had begun glancing around the room as well as he could from his fixed vantage.
"Ray," Karl asked, prompting Ray's gaze to return to him, "do you remember what happened?"
The silence seemed to thicken as Ray searched his memory. Karl was no telepath, but he had worked with several and forty years as a doctor had taught him more than a few things about expression and body language. Ray's Adam's apple slowly bobbed in an exaggerated swallow, the rise and fall of his chest becoming short and jerky.
Why villains had such a fascination with over-sized robots he would never know. Why the good guys didn’t have a legion of their own twelve-story titanium soldiers was equally beyond him. Cobalt was dealing with the thing well enough and had managed to make it trip a couple of times; attempting to damage it close-up while Viridian fired volley after volley from a distance in a dual attempt to damage as well as distract. He, as ever, just tried to stay out of the way as well as he could, holding a protective barrier around himself and each of his teammates while dodging stray shots and debris. Though it was commonly known that Cobalt and Viridian did not fight without the third arm of their triad, the villain of the week hadn’t seemed to have spotted him yet, despite his giveaway super suit of cadmium red.
The mech was huge and heavy, as such it was difficult to maneuver. Though it had plenty of firepower, it took a minute to swing the canon around and fire. By that time, one could leap out of the way to a safer location. "Safer", however, was something of a relative term in such a situation. Why did they always choose to make a mess downtown? The mayor had to be sick of all the wear and tear on the architecture. Never mind, now was not the time. One of the laser blasts had come uncomfortably close and Cadmium had only enough time to dive to one side. Hurriedly he scrambled to his feet but too late, the thing had seen him. It took another shot at him but only managed one blast before a deafening "BOOM" and stench of ozone told him Viridian had seized the moment of distraction and forced the canon to backfire, exploding itself. This, however, did not solve their problems by any stretch. The mech was still standing, its pilot still cackling madly and screaming threats. Whatever. Everyone was a little more concerned with the two-ton arms and legs of the titanium colossus. Since its artillery had been disabled, it was now taking wild swings and attempting to stomp on anyone who got too close. Cadmium shuddered as his friend’s shielding suffered blow after blow. Abruptly, as if it had suddenly remembered an urgent appointment, the robot turned and lashed out one long arm.
Crap.
Though it did not touch his body, the appendage caught him across the middle, whacking his shield like a nine-iron and sending Cadmium flying into space. Hurtling head over heels, he fought to control his momentum, to gather the necessary power and focus to use the trajectory to his advantage. However, the initial impact had left him spinning and disoriented. He had only a fraction of a second to notice it before he hit.
The brick wall burst as if hit by a canon ball, the impact sending his already tumbling thoughts reeling and shattering his shield. He hadn’t realized he’d been going so fast. Dizzy, Cadmium tried to fight through the disorientation only to realize he was still sailing through the air.
The opposite wall of the building did little more to slow him down. Most of the blow was taken by his shoulders, his body slamming into the heavy red blocks backwards. The impact stole his breath and made him wonder if his teeth had popped out of his mouth.
A third explosion of dust and rubble met the back of his head, forcing him to a halt so abrupt that it seemed to take a moment for his own weight to catch up to him. 164lbs of super hero slammed back-first into the incomplete beginnings of a skyscraper, coming to a full and final stop.
He lay there for a moment, not thinking or feeling anything. The distant, foggy shapes of Cobalt and Viridian had brought the mecha and its pilot to their knees, though the image appeared to him like blurry silhouettes of shadow puppets on a bed sheet curtain. It had gone strangely quiet, the sounds of battle becoming distant as an empty ringing filled his ears. The shouts of his teammates were vague and indistinct, they sounded as if they were calling his name. The white sound, however, was drowning them out and so he could not be sure.
It occurred to him that he should be in pain. True, every fibre of his body was trembling from adrenaline and the impact, but nothing actually hurt. Well, his neck ached and his head was bent at an odd and uncomfortable angle. He tried to move, to get up, to return to the battle to help, but found he couldn’t. The distant, stomach-clenching feeling that something was horribly wrong with his own body stole coldly across him. He could not move; that alone terrified him. What frightened him worse was the hot, stuffy feeling gathering in his chest. Struggling to struggle, to shout, to call out, Cadmium found he could not manage that either. The stuffiness was fading, but with the burning sensation had gone his ability to breathe. He gasped and heaved, watching, straining to hear, to communicate as Cobalt’s horrified face looked down on him. Viridian’s mental embrace was the last thing he knew before surrendering to the darkness.
The brown eyes that looked up at him had grown wide in panic before Ray could muster the self-control to blink.
Yes, he remembered.
"It's all right, just lie quiet," Karl soothed, resting a hand on Ray's undamaged shoulder. "You've been injured and you're in the hospital. I want you to know that even though you've been badly hurt, you're going to be all right. It's okay. You're going to be just fine. Do you understand?"
Another, less forced swallow and several minutes transpired as Ray regained his composure and offered a single blink.
"Good."
Ray was looking at him intently, eyes searching, his expression begging for answers, though all he managed in the way of a question was a weak "mph..." through his wired-shut jaw. This provoked a fit of coughing that left a thin trail of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Shh," Karl admonished, dabbing the blood away and offering a drink of water which Ray accepted gladly. "You're worn-out. Don't try to think at me right now, save your strength. Your friends will be here later and Charles can translate for you, okay?"
Blink.
Karl smiled. "All right then."
Sign up to rate and review this story