Zeke pounds into the glass doorway, shuddering it's panes as it drifts open, uncharacteristically stuttered. With his heart pounding faster than time permits, he pushes his way to an overly clean, orb-like desk, leaving the people of the queue to mutter in hushed angered voices.

"Where is she?!" Zeke blasts, taking in a much needed breath once his words have passed.

A young, pretty girl looks up from the glass tablet she autonomously presses away at, up until now making zero eye contact with the guests in the queue.

"I'm sorry sir, you're going to have to wait in line..." She mutters, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Where's my mama? Where is she?!" Zeke again blasts, taking no notice of either the angry crowd behind him, or the passive nurse holding the reception.

Light tears burn the raw skin around his eyes, the stinging seeming to dry almost instantly with each pain-filled blink. His eyes plead, begging the young receptionist for help.

He sees her, eyeing him up and down, from the tears of his dirtied clothes, to the gatherings of dried blood beneath the pads that have held in place for days longer than they should be.

"Maybe you should see a Medic?" She asks, trying to keep her emotions intact.

Zeke stutters, the lump in his throat makes it harder for him to speak. "No, I just... I want... I just need to see moma."

The nurse sports her best smile, trying her best to calm the small boy. "Well then you're gonna have to give me a little help, aren't you?" She says, winking Zeke's way.

Her sudden change in attitude all but calms his throbbing heart, but at least it throws him off guard for a moment, giving time for his tears to slow.

"What is her name?" The nurse asks, placing a hand ontop of Zeke's trembling hands.

"Her name?" Zeke asks, feeling the warmth of the palm. "Kristina Eynon."

As he speaks, the nurse's eyes grow a little. For a second or two she stares, as people closely behind him start whispering away. She quickly shakes it off, removes her hand and starts typing upon the glowing green keys of her tablet. Each one blinking red as its touched.

"Kristina Eynon... Just a second... and here she is. Room 21B..." She stops, again staring. This time at the screen. The girl bites the corner of her lip, but quickly shakes it off trying her best to keep professional.

She raises her head back to Zeke smiling all the way. "Its just down the hall on the left." She says, winking.

Zeke storms off, rushing down the corridor.

Just as he leaves, Isla comes rushing through the door, speeding past the already angry mob of a queue. She heads straight towards the corridor only to be stopped by the nurse at the desk.

"Can I help you miss!?" She shouts, completely ignoring the line of ten or so people before her.

Isla turns, walking over to the counter.

"My friend just came here to see his mother. I wanna see if..." Isla speaks fast but clearly, brushing her pink hair from her face.

"I would give them a moment if I was you." She says, smiling yet with a serious intent.

Zeke hits the door hard, tripping over his feet. He falls back onto the ground as an intense pain hammers against his brain, slowly making its way down his body, where every cut and bruise throbs. He lifts his hands, digging his fingers into the side of his skull, screaming, hoping for the pain to pass.

He shuts his eyes hard, grits his teeth and breaths heavier and heavier.

-"Come over Zeke. It's time"-

As the voice fades, so does the pain. Zeke's heart slows, his breaths normalise. Sound returns; the beeps of machines, the squeak of wheels, the nattering of nearby people. Zeke turns his head. Down the corridor, everyone looks his way, each with their own look of confusion or shock.

Now conscious of their stares, he clambers to his feet, awaiting a pain that doesn't come. His hand rests against the doorway, calm and composed.

In the window, he see's them. Bright blue eyes. Not the usual blue. The whole eye, a deep, intense blue. No white or black. Just blue. For a moment, he just stares.

'Is that really me? They're... They're like crawler eyes.' He thinks to himself.

Eventually he glances past his reflection, where he sees his mother laying tranquil upon a bed. No longer does anything matter. Not the level 3, not the people staring and muttering, not even these bizarre blue eyes.

The door squeaks as it creeps open. Zeke steps slowly, gradually making his way to his mother's side. Even here, with pale features, deep black rings around her eyes, and a machine beeping away to her lifeline, she still looks beautiful.

His fingers grasps tightly, intertwining with a cold hand. A cut that runs deep across his forehead rests upon the soft coldness of hers. He closes his eyes and rests. Each breath seems to last a lifetime as time practically stops.

As he lifts his head, Zeke plants a soft kiss upon his mother's soft cheek, as she always did back when he was a child on his way to slumber. He stops for a moment, staring intently at her calmness. A slight smile planted upon her slender lips. A sign that she is no longer in pain.

'Did they do the op already? Maybe some rich guy gave her lots of money while I was gone?'

His vision darts to the foot of the bed, to the clipboard attached there. Would that hold the answer? He rises, heading straight for the clipboard. A deep breath and he lifts it.

The words are long, and for the most part, confusing. Zeke can barely make and sense of it, all but the final line. "To be put to sleep should condition not improve..."

Zeke stutters, and stares. The clipboard drops, hitting the ground hard as the door swings open. For a moment, time stops. He just stands, staring into the abyss. His eyes close lightly, then he turns his head towards the door where a doctor and two security guards stand, watching him.

"So it's true. You'll have to come with me." The Doctor says, calm, yet his expression says otherwise. Fear.

"No. Not now." Zeke's voice, equally calm despite the circumstances.

For a second the Doctor just observes, taking everything in. He looks to Kristina, laying in the bed. He seems somewhat confused, yet fears to show any weakness.

"I'm sorry, but we need to go now. You don't have long le..."

"No!"

As Zeke shouts, the guards reach quickly to the guns in their holsters. Zeke can see it, as clear as the mornings blue skies, a fear in their eyes. The way they tremble. How their pupils jitter. It's pathetic.

The doctor steps forwards "wait..." but it's too late. Zeke flashes he out of the room into the corridor. His fist raising from its position at his stomach.

Bouncing off the wall, he rushes down the corridor, the sounds of heavy boots follow him out of the room.

His hand drops in a fist to his stomach. He vanishes from sight.