SG Vol. 1 pt. 30

My eyes slowly open and are met with blinding light.

Naomi! Where – what happened? Is she safe? “Phone,” I groan out.

I hear voices around me but they just sound like mumbling.

“Need… check… Naomi,” I try explaining, but all I get are more mumbles.

Fuck, why is it so bright, and why does even my own voice sound incoherent?

“Please… Naomi,” I try saying again to muffled replies.

The less bright the light becomes, the more pain I feel and the better I can understand the voices around me.

“Naomi,” I repeat.

“Your—okay,” a woman’s voice says.

“Naomi, is – Naomi, is she… okay?”

“Your family—sa—”

Fuck! It’s pissing me off that I can’t understand what she’s trying to say.

“Is Naomi okay?” I ask, finally managing to say a proper sentence.

“Your family is okay, Lance,” she answers. I can finally understand her, too. And, when I look at her, I see Clover. “The corporal told me that they’re okay, alright? Your mom, wife, and daughter are all safe. You should be more worried about yourself right now.”

Eh? Why would I be worried… about myself?

Maybe it has something to do with the sharp pain all over my body.

It’s a struggle, but I lean up enough to look down at my body.

“Don’t move too much. You need to rest, and that’s an order,” Clover says.

I can see why.

I’ve got stitches and bandages all over my thighs, torso, and arms. My neck fucking stings, too, but I can’t see what’s wrong with it. I’d try touching my neck to feel it, but my arms feel like jelly.

“You are… beyond lucky, Lance,” Clover says. “If you could have seen how much shrapnel was under a centimeter from hitting your vital organs or arteries, you would never want to make another bet for the rest of your life! A lifetime of luck was used to keep you alive.”

“You sound… cute when you’re all serious like this… and stuff,” I mumble out to her, immediately wanting to cringe at myself, but I end up giggling instead.

Being high and self-aware, but not caring enough to stop myself from saying stupid things, is the worst.

Clover smiles and says, “Please rest for now.  I am sure that the corporal and your family will be upset if you get yourself hurt even more.”

“Naomi is safe, right?” I ask.

“Yes, Lance.”

“Good. Hey, you’re single, right?”

“How much pain are you in? I can give you more painkillers if it hurts too much.”

“You’re so professional. I’m trying to flirt with you but you keep changing the subject, you… you professional nurse lady.”

“I can tell. Is that a ‘no’ on needing more medication?”

“I’ve felt worse.”

“I don’t want to know how much worse it can get after seeing how you were brought in here.”

“Where is here, miss nurse queen?”

“We’re working out of Tripler right now.”

“Tripler?”

“Tripler Army Medical Center. We’re still on the island.”

“Oh… yeah, right. Hey, you’re pretty even with some blood on your face.”

She must be embarrassed because she finally blushes a tiny bit before leaving to wash the blood off of her face. When she returns, she’s cleaned up and says, “Your family will be allowed to visit you in a few days.”

“Few days? Why not now?” I ask.

“We’re too busy to have non-staff walking around and our space is already limited.”

“How… how bad was it?”

“For a direct attack by the VRAG… minimal losses.”

“How many? Numbers?”

Clover looks away, obviously not wanting to answer, but then looks back down at me and asks, “Does it matter? We are still alive. That’s all that should matter right now. You and everybody else courageously protected us.”

“How many?” I ask, starting to sober up.

She looks away before answering, “Seventeen pilots, over three hundred ground personnel so far, and… at least two thousand dead in Honolulu and the surrounding cities. They’re going to be digging through rubble for days.”

Yeah, I’m not high anymore. “Damn it. We didn’t do enough. We shouldn’t have lost anybody.”

“We lost less than expected so far. Please do not stress yourself out. That will only delay your healing.”

“I didn’t do enough.” The last thing I remember is… “And those fucking bastards had to save me again. Some fucking ace I am, right?”

“Lance, the more you stress yourself, the slower you will heal. The slower you heal, the longer it will be before you can return home to your daughter.”

“Did Zane tell you to use my daughter to make me listen?”

“Per-perhaps.”

Damn it, Zane. Stop telling people about my weakness. “Fine. Tell me, did I lose anything this time?”

“Only some skin. You were pulled out from your unit as soon as the Titan-class was killed, and our best surgeons immediately worked on you before transferring you here.”

“The brats I brought to you earlier… they all fine?”

“We’re all good, sir!” an annoying voice says from the bed next to mine.

I look over and see none other than Shitger with what looks like a broken arm.

“Can I be moved to another room?” I ask Clover.

“They’re all occupied,” Clover answers. “This is your home for the next few days, so I suggest that you make friends with your neighbors.”

“It’s going to be one more lap for every word I hear leave your mouth,” I tell Shitger.

He zips his mouth shut with his free hand and looks away.

Damn brat heard me while I was high.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Lance. I have to go now, but I’ll check on you when I can,” Clover explains.

“If Zane is telling you to, don’t worry about him. I’ll be fine,” I tell her.

“The corporal isn’t ordering me to,” she says before running off.

“Hey, sir, I think she likes you,” Shitger says.

“That’s seven laps,” I groggily tell him. I’d shout at him if my head wasn’t killing me now. “How’d you break your arm?”

“I was too slow, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just stupid.”

“That’s another ten laps for being an annoying and vague little shit.”

“Are you okay, sir? We saw you when you got pulled out of your cockpit, and—”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about stupid things.”

A few minutes pass in silence. Well, silence between me and Shitger. The room is full of bustling noise as nurses hurry around, the injured groan and cry, and the radios keep everybody updated on what’s happening.

There should be an address by the president soon unless that happened while I was out of it.

“Damn it,” I groan.

“Sir?” Shitger asks.

“That mechanic is going to kill me for ruining my unit.”

“Sir, with how it looked outside… I don’t think anybody is going to be upset for breaking your unit as long as you survived.”

“You obviously haven't met Tabs yet. Don’t worry, you’ll definitely meet her someday. Every single pilot in the Pacific has dealt with her at one point or another, and not a single one can go toe-to-toe with her. Not even those damn Fighting Aces pilots can handle her.”

“She sounds scarier than the VRAG, sir.”

“She can be.”

Shitger laughs and then grabs his arm to groan.

“Take it easy, Shitger,” I order.

“Right back at you, sir,” Shitger replies.

“Oi, I’m the one who gives orders here. Not you.”

“Come on, sir! We’re both injured men right now! It’s okay to joke around. Besides, you’re in worse shape than I am. What are you going to—”

He shuts his mouth as soon as I start climbing off of my bed. Two of the nurses have to run over to push me back onto it, warning me about how dangerous it is to move right now.

“S-sorry, sir.”

“Trust me, Shitger, you will be.”