Cold sterile air flooded Kenneth's nose as he inhaled deeply. His eyes cracked open and he groaned. His body ached underneath the thin hospital blankets. The lights were dim, thankfully, and didn't burn into his vision as he sluggishly looked around the room. His eyes caught on the powered down nurse bot before turning to the only bot moving in the room. He squirmed up to prop himself on his elbows.

His chest ached deep inside, but he ignored it. His chest had ached for years, ever since he'd run to escape his mother. With a gasp, he found his breath shorter than before and his stomach clenched. Sinking back, he coughed.

The bot moved to his side, it's white and blue stripes denoting its status as the primary doctor. Blue eyes stared at him from the round flat head. Kenneth was pretty sure it was scanning him. He shrank back, pulling his arms around himself. Warily, he watched the bot check all of the fluids in various lines running into his arms. He parted his lips, struggling to gather the breath and courage to speak. "...Excuse me," he whispered faintly.

The bot's attention snapped to him. It paused and looked down, lowering its stubby hands. "Yes."

"What's...What's wrong. With me?" Kenneth asked, panting gently. His fingernails dug into his thin loose skin as he tried to control his breathing. Cold gripped him as the bot reached out towards him. Its extended hand stopped a few inches short of Kenneth and a new display appeared. Kenneth knew it was his medical scans, he'd seen them plenty of times. This time his chest was a pulsing red on the scan, though.

The bot's head lowered. "You suffered a pre-mature heart attack. Your COPD condition is now critical. Death is estimated in one month."

Kenneth's ice froze in his veins. His short breath hitched and he launched into a wet coughing fit. Pressing a hand to chest, he struggled to control his racing pulse. He turned his head, pitching it back to cough as a shudder gripped him. His eyes cracked open again and he sank back as he gave the bot a pale look. "Let. Me. Guess--"

"Advised course of action is a lung transplant. You will gain priority on the list when you apply to ensure care."

Kenneth closed his eyes and shook his head. He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling his heart pump harder with each breath. "You know. I can't afford it."

The bot put it's hand down. The display disappeared as it backed off a step. "I am not authorized to offer financial advice."

"I know...Just tell. Them no," Kenneth whispered. He shivered and pulled the blanket to his chin. Swallowing, he glanced around the room weakly again. Goosebumps crawled over his skin as he thought of dying here. He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the morbid thought.

Its head dipped once. "We will commence end of life care. Should you require further assistance please alert the nurse bot," the doctor bot stated and turned on its repulsors to leave the room.

Kenneth threw a hand out after it, struggling back up. He hunched up, hugging the blanket to his chest and body. "Wait. Can. Can you hand me. My headset?" he gasped. His eyes turned to the VR headset hanging out of his reach. It was his only escape from the dank room and the smell of antiseptic. Plus, he couldn't risk making the girl--he thought he remembered her name being Byrd--wait around any longer for him. I need a break from this place anyway, and the...Tears tried to moisten his eyes as he thought of the decisions hanging over him. He shook his head and laid it on his knees instead, waiting. He'd made his decision. His welfare covered the hospital stay and nothing more. Even if he could somehow get approved for a loan, how would he contact someone for that? He was stuck here, surrounded by inhuman doctors and nurses dying from a disease he'd contracted in all those dark alleys. The dark alleys he thought would protect him from a childhood of abuse. A tear slid down his cheek.

Something rested in his still outstretched hand. He looked up and saw the doctor hang the VR headset over his fingers before turning to leave. It exited the room.

Kenneth gripped the headset strap and pulled it to himself. He slowly gathered the strength to pull it over his head. Then he laid back and rested his head on the pillow. Tugging the blanket to his chin, he tapped the side of the headset.

Starting up...

The screen went grey. The little loading dial appeared as the headset whirred to life. Kenneth breathed out, trying to press the anxiety from his body. He wondered if this was what death was like. Grey and dark. Some people said they saw white lights when they neared death. Others said they saw nothing. What would he see? He swallowed, shivering.

World Generating...

Pressing thoughts of death from his mind, he stared intently at the screen and willed it to come on faster. I hope Byrd--that is her name right?--isn't too freaked out. He'd left her who knew how long ago? Would this have failed the quest? He bit his lip and hoped not.

The dark dim light room appeared in swatches around him. He pressed forward as his avatar, looking around at the cinderblock walls. Spinning around he saw the boxes generating, the tarp and writing appearing last. His eyes flickered to the bottom of the screen and then to the top. Nothing indicated a failed quest. He breathed out a sigh of relief and let his shoulder's sag.

"Hey!" Someone barrelled into him, arms flung around his skinny frame.

Kenneth gasped and stumbled, barely catching himself before he collapsed. He jerked, though, squirming free of the vice hug and skittering back. Throwing his hands up he gasped and then relaxed. "Byrd. Oh goodness, you scared me."

"You scared me!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up to her head in question. "Where did you go?"

Panting, Kenneth tried to catch his breath. It was getting harder each day. "I got...disconnected. Called away. Had to do...stuff."

She nodded and lowered her arms. She sank back onto one leg and brushed back her hair from her face. "Okay. Sorry...you disappeared without warning. I was worried something had happened." Laughing she squinted her eyes shut, her brow creasing in embarrassment.

Kenneth waved it off, pressing a hand to his chest. He took slow deep breaths, reminding himself it was a game and he wasn't really straining himself. His chest hurt deeply still, though. He sighed and shivered at the thought of her hugging him again. He stepped back. "It's okay. I didn't mean. To scare you."

She shrugged. "I spook easily anyway. Glad to see you're alright, though, and back. Thankfully the quest is still running. Oh, hold on, though." She turned and appeared to lag.

Kenneth straightened up and cocked one eyebrow watching her. His brow started to crease then relaxed again as she stood back up.

"Lemme give you my GameTag so we can talk outside the game," she looked up and paused, grinning sheepishly. "If that's okay with you?"

Kenneth swallowed and bit his lower lip. He didn't take GamerTags unless he had a reason to communicate with people. Normally it was one quest and done. They were all strangers to him. Considering how much time I have left that's best... He glanced up. "Uh..."

She waved her hand and shook her head. "Nevermind, that's intruding too much. Sorry."

Throwing out a hand, Kenneth tried to stop her. "Um, just for the quest duration? That way we can at least talk through the quest."

Nodding, she looked up. "Okay, yeah, that works." Grinning, she gave him a thumbs up and then his upper bar flashed green. The inbox symbol showed a red dot. Kenneth selected it and opened up the invite from his quest partner. GameTag: Byrd#344. He accepted it and sent a request back to her.

Glancing over he saw her smile as she received it and flashed another thumbs up in his direction. "Got it! Thank you." Lifting her head she turned around. "Now that we have that dealt with, shall we get on with this quest? I found a truck."

"Oh, yeah," Kenneth said, blinking. He closed out his inbox screen and walked over there. He glanced up at the boxes. They looked heavy. It's a game, he thought, his health still weighing down on him, even here.

"I think we can carry them easily if we work together," Byrd said. She hopped up on the lower box and reached up, starting to push down the top one. She glanced down. "Catch."

Kenneth threw his arms up, grabbing the box as it slid. He grunted under the imagined weight but took slow deep breaths as they moved it down. Helping her lug it to the door he glanced back.

"How many are left?" she asked, tugging from her end.

Kenneth scanned the wall quickly. "About a month..." he murmured absently.

"Huh?"

He shook his head and looked back. "Um, five or so? Not counting the first one."

"Cool," she said with a grin. "Won't take long then."

He nodded and helped her lift the box into the back of the truck. He stepped back as she hopped back down. His eyes trailed after her. Not long at all, now.