From the doorway, Yuen retreated into the dark soundlessly. Mitchel felt like he could breathe a bit more and focus on Winston. At least the guard was not throwing insults.

Cherzil reached for something inside his pocket. Around him, the whole family stiffened. He pulled what looked to be like a small cloth which he then placed atop Winston’s face.

Mitchel hovered over Winston like a fretting bird and opened his mouth to object, but Cherzil removed the cloth before any commentary could be made.

“It is strong substance that will pull the patient out of sleep,” Cherzil explained and Mitchel clamped his open mouth shut. “I will need him to answer a few questions on our way to the HMF.”

Pulling back, Cherzil allowed the family to crowd around the hurt teenager once more.

“Winston?” Mitchel asked.

Winston’s face scrunched up as if he were fighting the lull of the drug and let out a groan that ended in a sharp whimper. In a tight moment of silence, he cracked open an eyelid.

“Winnie?” Gabriella said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Winston’s lips rose and fell as if words were bubbling just below the surface, but not quite yet escaping. He squeezed his eyes shut, once again fighting the drug.

He tried again and his lips finally parted.

“I’m ok,” he said. His voice crackled with stress and hoarseness.

The family collective let out a tightly wound sigh. Annie let out a mix between a relieved chuckled and a strangled sob. Mitchel barely held back his emotions as a wobbly smile met his lips.

Of course that’s the first thing he would say.

Quickly, Winston faded back into silence and closed his eyes as if the movement were draining him.

“Just tired,” he mumbled, his voice hardly a whisper.

Mitchel’s eyes shone with tears. He shook his head, a watery smile overcoming him.

He was stressed from allowing Rwequeks in his home.

He was worried about Winston’s wound and its effect.

At the same time, he was overwhelmingly relieved to hear Winston’s voice again.

“You idiot,” he whispered, having no other words to describe his emotions at the moment.

Loud footsteps approached the door, snapping Mitchel out of his stupor.

“Stretcher’s right here,” Yuen announced, gaining the attention of the doting family.

Mitchel quietly asked the family to move away when Cherzil crouched down at Winston’s midsection.As Cherzil began to move Winston, the eldest teen cracked open his eyes in concern, suddenly noticing the Rwequeks. His fingers grappled around his sheets as if they were a protective barrier.

“It’s ok,” Annie assured him. She could not decide on whether to send glares at the Rwequeks or retain her calm disposition for Winston. “We’re getting you help.”

“What…” Winston whispered, more confusion lining his features. “No… M’fine.”

The stretcher slipped under Winston’s legs first and caused him to wince fiercely. Once most of his body was free of the covers and he was halfway on, Yuen pushed the stretcher fully under him. Cherzil clicked a button and the stretcher began to rise to Mitchel’s waist level.

“You’re really not,” Mitchel argued and took Winston’s hand. His heart fluttered as Winston squeezed lightly back.

“What’s happening…” Winston croaked, his eyes only flashing open for a moment before falling again. With his breathing leveling out, his remained shut.

“It’s going to be ok,” Annie repeated, brushing back Winston’s sweaty hair. “You’re going to get medical help. Real help.”

“We can handle it from here,” Cherzil announced. The stretcher began to roll by itself towards the door, Yuen vaguely guiding it from the front.

The family looked at Mitchel expectantly for a translation, an update of any kind.

“Wait,” he bit out.

Mitchel’s throat clogged as Cherzil hesitated in the doorframe.

“We must go,” Cherzil insisted as if it was painfully obvious. “Your friend is not stable yet despite his consciousness. As soon as the drug wears off, he will likely fall back into sleep. I need to know how this came about before then.”

“Can I go with him?” Mitchel tried. “He’ll be confused without someone there to interpret for him— and, and that wouldn’t help his injuries, would it?”

Cherzil’s eyebrows furrowed and opened his mouth to speak, but Mitchel beat him to it.

“You wanted to know how his injuries came about?” Mitchel pressed, his voice growing more and more shaky as desperation roared forward. “I can ask them for you. Please, just let me stay by his side.”

“Don’t think you’re so special because of today,” Yuen quipped from the doorframe. “We have devices to translate your language to ours.”

The pathetic feeling bubbling in Mitchel stomach quickly quelled to allow his anger to storm through.

“Of course,” Mitchel shot back, “But he will not open up to you. He is drugged and confused and needs a familiar face.”

Cherzil considered this for a moment before agreeing with a nod of his head.

“I will allow it. Only you, though,” Cherzil said and continued ushering Winston out of their home.

Mitchel hesitated in the kitchen in mixed relief. The whole family seemed to shoot to their feet with the sudden movement.

“What’s going to happen?” Annie asked in a low voice.

“I dunno exactly,” Mitchel said. “They’re taking him to the Facility as planned. I’m going to go with him.”

“Is he going to be alright?” Gabriella whispered, more to herself than Mitchel.

“Mitchie… Don’t let them take Winnie,” whimpered Laura, tugging at his pants. He tried smiling at her, the expression failing him.

“Let me come with you,” Annie insisted, her eyes desperate. “I— I have to see if he’s alright.”

Mitchel shook his head.

“They are barely letting me come along,” he said. “I’m going to go alone.”

Annie’s face melted into uneasy anger. He could tell she was trying her best to contain it.

“I promise I will keep him safe,” he insisted. He reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “You’ve got to keep everyone safe while we’re gone, yeah?”

She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes for a few moments, wrestling with thoughts before they could escape her lips.

Jerkily, she nodded.

“Be careful,” Lucas insisted. A murmur of the same sentiment spread among them all.

Mitchel flashed them an all teeth smile— not the smooth warmth that Winston could create— and hoped it was enough to satisfy them until he could come back.

“Love ya,” he announced to his family and bounded after the leaving Rwequeks.

Yuen was pushing the stretcher into the back of the sleek black vehicle while Cherzil was pulling the stretcher from inside. Hurrying over, Mitchel clambered into the back beside the stretcher and immediately grabbed onto Winston’s hand for support. The vehicle was very different than the self-automated bus, which was boxy, large and rigid. This one had an aerodynamic look to the outside and a glossy and flat interior that could accommodate a stretcher. Mitchel felt severely out of place in his grimy work clothes but tried to focus on Winston as he was carted right beside him. Yuen disappeared into the front seat, which had a barrier blocking Mitchel’s view of him, much to Mitchel’s relief, while Cherzil came into the back with Winston. Cherzil took a moment strap the stretcher to the vehicle’s floor and then looked over the semi-lucid patient. As the vehicle started to move forward, Cherzil leaned slightly into Mitchel’s space, creating goosebumps that crept up his arms.

Suddenly, Mitchel became hyperaware of how close he was to the Rwequek who had so much power in the situation, peering over Winston’s wounds. A blue color lightly highlighted Cherzil’s cheekbones that quirked when he mouthed something under his breath. He looked slightly older than Yuen, but younger than Wrose as his skin bore no wrinkles. Despite his younger appearance, there were slight depressions and shadows underneath his electric blue eyes.

“He is already unconscious again…” Cherzil murmured, “That is not normal. You didn’t quite express to me how dire this situation was.”

“I pressed the emergency button, didn’t I?” Mitchel snapped, immediately closing his mouth with an audible click.

He was so incredibly tired. From the workday, from Mizar, from dealing with his family’s reaction. From seeing Winston look so utterly weak.

Mitchel dug his fingernails into his thighs to remind himself where he was, who he was talking to. He remained tense, expecting verbal backlash. Instead, Cherzil just sighed as if he were dealing with a bratty child.

“I was referring to the night previous,” Cherzil muttered. “His condition certainly warrants going to the Facility.”

Mitchel scowled at that, because he knew the other was partially right. It worried him that Cherzil was so stumped by Winston’s injury.

“I did not know who you were. Nor did I want to test your courtesy in front of my family,” Mitchel says as evenly as he can. He tries to remain on guard, in a position of security, but he cannot help the worry flooding his face when he looks at Winston.

To this, a light enters Cherzil’s swirling eyes as if he has just understood something.

“Do you know who I am now?” he asks curiously.

Mitchel takes a moment to respond.

“I know that you stepped in to help when it was not required of you,” Mitchel murmured. “Earlier today, I mean.”

Cherzil’s lips twitch as if he were suppressing a smirk.

“You would do best to stay out of those Rwequeks’ way,” Cherzil nodded, briskly rushing past the “thank you” that was laced in Mitchel’s words.

“I think that was what happened to him. Getting in some Rwequeks’ way, I mean,” Mitchel answered. When Cherzil asked him to recount what had happened, Mitchel told him all that he knew. He omitted his suspicions specifically towards Mizar, but Cherzil seemed to already scroll through an invisible list of suspects in his head with a concerned, faraway look.

“I will administer another dose of what I have already given him. I need you to confirm exactly what happened to his leg,” Cherzil said strictly. “I am not sure why he is unable to remain awake despite the first dose. Pulling him out his consciousness for a second time might cause adverse effects.”

Mitchel nodded, though confusion crawled up onto his features.

“Will he be alright?”

“He will, but he might be further disoriented,” Cherzil replied. “We will be arriving soon enough, and he will get the care he needs. For now, I will be observing and monitoring his vitals.”

Cherzil once again placed the cloth over Winston’s nose and mouth. Mitchel leaned over his friend as Cherzil stepped away, not wanting a Rwequek to be the first thing Winston saw when he awoke.

“Mitch…” his friend groaned after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah?” Mitchel answered eagerly and squeezed his hand.

Winston shook his head, his words slow and slurred. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he were trying to solve a very hard problem. “Where are we? Where’s Annie?”

Mitchel looked around the dark interior of the car, imaging it must have looked odd and somewhat terrifying for Winston in his confused state. Even with the soft light lining the top of the vehicle, the windows were tinted and looked unnaturally endless in its blackness.

Winston took in a sharp breath. His eyes were wide open, trained on Cherzil who was bent over medical supplies. His breathing began to increase.

“It’s ok,” Mitchel reassured, holding Winston’s hand tightly in an attempt to ground him. “I am here with you to interpret. I need to know what truly happened to get you help.”

Winston shook his head.

“We gotta get out of here… It’s not safe—”

“I’ve got you,” Mitchel mollified. He was startled that Winston was acting so panicked. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

The grip on Mitchel’s hand tightened to a painful degree, but Winston’s expression remained unchanged as if he were unaware how tense he was becoming. Mitchel bit down a wince and waited for Winston to talk.

“It’s eating my leg, I can feel it eating away at my skin and my tissues and my bone,” Winston whispered hoarsely.

“What?” Mitchel said, his heart thundering in his chest.

A sheen of sweat was building on Winston’s neck and forehead, his complexion losing more and more color. Winston’s eyes looked glazed over, staring at the endless black of the ceiling. Everything around them began to fall away, like they were falling through a black hole from Winston’s stories. 

“The guard. His weapon— it, it wasn’t normal,” Winston gasped as if he had lost his breath.

“What do you mean?” Mitchel asked sharply.

“It wasn’t a baton, it was sharp. It cut through my skin and infected it with something. I can feel it. There’s acid in my wound, its growing, its growing, please make it stop—” Winston struggled to take in a breath.

“Winnie— Jesus Christ,” Mitchel swore, gripping his hand tighter. “Winnie stay with me.”

“Mitch—” Winston whimpered. “Get it out. Please.”

“Uh, um, Cherzil—” Mitchel cried desperately, not caring for the disrespect that fell off his tongue. Tears were building up past his eyelids. He could not remember formalities in this moment, “— He was cut by a guard— the weapon sounds like there was some kind of poison in it.”

“Cut?” Cherzil repeated, frowning. “We are not allowed to have such weapons. But that might explain the blue color…”

Winston kept mumbling Mitchel’s name like a prayer, his eyes not leaving the ceiling. Mitchel’s lower lip shook. He did not know what to do.

“Please help— he’s not stable. I think he’s hallucinating,” Mitchel relayed to Cherzil.

The Rwequek was watching the interaction between the two humans with sullen curiosity and nodded.

“I will make something to ease his pain,” he announced, turning back to his supplies. “We will be there soon.”

Winston’s eyes filled with tears so suddenly that Mitchel’s heart skipped a beat.

“T-Tell me a story,” Mitchel demanded, squeezing Winston’s hand once more. “Don’t focus on the pain. Focus on me, ok?”

Winston looked at him with wide, scared eyes. Mitchel tried to be strong.

“Forget about everything else. Trust me Winston. I place so much trust in you,” Mitchel bit his lip at the admission. “Just this time, trust me.”

Cherzil rounded on Winston’s leg and smeared a colorless liquid on top. Winston hissed at the contact, but visibly relaxed. Mitchel finally took in a deep breath and thanked Cherzil quietly.

“I can feel it…” Winston mumbled, his voice having a faraway quality, with eyes on Cherzil.

“Watch me. It’s just you and me here, ok? I’ve got you,” Mitchel interrupted. “You’ve jammed so much astronomy into your brain you can’t help but leak it out and teach our family. Focus on that. Tell me another story.”

Winston’s lips were trembling, but his chest started to relax. Even as Cherzil fell beside Mitchel to look at Winston’s leg, Winston’s eyes never left Mitchel. The rest of the world was falling away into the black backdrop of the vehicle until it was only two friends interlocking fingers in the dark.

“We’re all made of stardust, you know?” Winston said suddenly.