I wince as Paula pricks me with a needle, and I watch as dark crimson trails down the clear tubing and into a small vial.

She was overly eager to pick and prod me this morning. Of course, she's been performing tests on herself after taking the cure, but she wanted me to be also be a test subject so she could have another pair of results to compare hers to. It should take a few days to get the results back, so she still plans on receiving plasmapheresis treatments, and she's advised me to do the same, just in case.

"There," Paula says, placing the two vials of my blood down onto the table. She pulls the needle from my vein and places a cotton ball and band aid over it. I can feel the slight burn in my skin. "Hopefully we can see if this cure really is that."

"I feel fine," I say with a shrug. "And I was on the verge of turning before Janine injected me with the stuff."

"I feel fine most of the time too, and Sam's blood saved me when I was on the brink of death. Doesn't mean it cured me. From your vital signs, you're fine, cured, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

I nod, not really meeting her eye. She frowns, tipping her head to the side. "Are you alright?"

"What? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just tired. Yesterday was..." I hesitate, "a lot, with Sigrid and being infected and the Glass Protocol. I'm still processing it and trying to think of what we'll be doing next."

"Janine says she's going to be looking into how to help with your Moonchild... issue." She says the words with caution, as if afraid she might trigger Moonchild.

"We've been trying to deal with that for awhile now. I mean, even that treatment place we went to didn't have the answers for me." I shrug again. "Still, Sigrid doesn't know I'm her special Alpha or whatever she calls it, so I have that going for me."

Paula's frown deepens, her gray eyes scanning for something on my face. I'm not sure what. "You know you can tell me if you're not okay. I am a doctor, which means patient confidentiality. I won't tell anyone, not even Sam. I know... what it's like to have that fear, to feel that pain while on the brink of death."

"I know," I say, memories of yesterday flashing before my eyes, "but I'm fine. Really. I'm fine now, or at least, I should be. I'll still get the plasmapheresis treatments until you get those samples back, and I'll then move on."

I have to move on. That's what I tell myself every time yesterday's fears come to mind. That's what I told myself last night when I kept waking up screaming because I kept dreaming that I was about to turn.

Sam tried to talk to me about that this morning before I came here. I refused.

"Callista, what you experienced yesterday was traumatic-"

"What I experience almost every day is traumatic," I reply, my tone flat. "Is are any other tests you need run on me?"

The words come off a little harsher than I expected them to, but I've been here for hours. It reminds of after I broke out from the mind control and Maxine ran every test under the sun on me to make sure I was actually me.

I'm tired. I'm sore. I want to be left alone.

Before Paula can respond, there's a knock on the already open door. A second later Peter pokes his head into the hospital room.

"Hey, Five-o. I was looking for you. I managed to convince Tom to move training with him to tomorrow. I told him after got your arse beat by Sigrid, the Glass Protocol and the zombie virus, he should be a good friend and spare you from getting your arse beat the very next day."

I roll my eyes. "Haha, very funny. What do you want?"

He gasps in mock offense. "I've come to make your day better. Sam's busy with runs most of today and he's got a Demons and Darkness session tonight that he knows you won't go to, so he basically asked me to be your babysitter."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "Guess he was worried that you'd start thinking too much about what happened yesterday." I guess that means Sam didn't tell him about my nightmares. Blue eyes move from my face to Paula's. "So, Doc, you done with her or...?"

Paula seems reluctant to answer, but she finally sighs. "Yes, I suppose we're done for now. I'll come find you if I happen to need any more samples."

I nod, but before I can leave Paula calls out to me once more. "Callista, please be sure not to mention this to anyone. While everyone in Abel knows that Sigrid has the cure to the zombie virus now and that you used it, not everyone knows that I did."

"By 'not everyone', you mean Veronica," Peter says before I can, and the redhead nods.

"Yes."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing neither of us will be anywhere near her." He grabs my wrist. "Now, come on, Traumagedon. Let's go get your mind off things."

He practically drags me out of the hospital room and down the hallway, sterile air filling my lungs along with the scent of cleaning supplies. A few people are bustling around, none of them doctors but all of them doing the best they can. I'm sure Maxine will be grateful when the results come back showing Paula is cured. That means she will be able to work with patients again.

"So, what exactly do you want to do to help me 'get my mind off things'?" I ask as we leave the hospital, entering onto the dirt and stone streets. Peter grins slightly.

"My initial plan was to get drunk, climb onto the roof of a building and make pterodactyl noises at people, but then I remembered your rule-

"No alcohol before three o'clock," We say in unison, and he rolls his eyes.

"You really are no fun."

"It's for your own good," I reply. "It's already bad enough you're ruining your lungs by smoking."

"My lungs are perfectly fine, thank you. I can't die, remember?"

I don't say anything.

"Anyway, since it's only nine in the morning, that plan is off, so instead I was thinking we go steal some games from the Rec room."

"Some of the kids made some kites for a school project the other day. I was actually going to take one. Haven't flown a kite in years."

"I don't think anyone has," Peter snarks, which gets him an unamused look and a punch in the arm. "Hey! Just because I'm immortal doesn't mean I don't feel pain."

"My deepest apologies." I grin when he shakes his head. "So, Rec room, kites. You'll have to go in and get them since I'm technically not allowed in there until the results are back. I'm 'unstable' since we don't know much about that cure."

"Sure, sure-" He pauses when my stomach growls, and I give him a slightly embarrassed smile. "Didn't eat breakfast?"

I shake my head. "I've been in the hospital since six this morning."

He hums. "Well, then. Let's go get some food. I doubt you'll have as much fun flying a kite or doing anything else while thinking about lunch."

"But lunch isn't for another three hours."

He rolls his eyes and tosses something to me. I catch it, frowning when I see my lockpicking kit. Without a word he grabs my wrist and starts leading me towards the kitchen.

"Wha-Peter!" I pull away from him. "We can't just break into the kitchen and steal food."

"Why not?"

"Because we just-we can't. That's not fair to everyone else."

"You know what's also not fair? The fact that you missed breakfast because you were too busy getting tested on like a lab rat. Come on. I doubt anyone would say anything if they caught us, especially since you nearly died yesterday."

"I nearly die on every run I go on."

"Yeah, but I don't think you've came as close to death as you did yesterday."

"Aren't you supposed to be taking my mind off things?"

"I am. Food can take your mind off everything, even disgusting, post-apocalyptic food." That's all he says before grabbing me and pulling me along again, and I let him.

We reach the kitchens, and he keeps watch as I pick the lock, each tumbler clicking into place. I hear a loud, final click, and I stand and open the door.

"After you," I say, and Peter laughs.

"Thank you, darling. Now, what do you want?"

"What do I want? More like what do we have? We haven't had food that I've wanted in months."

"Yes, it is a shame we haven't managed to grow any peanuts in that greenhouse, isn't it?"

"It's very much a shame," I reply, looking through the cabinets, seeing mostly canned vegetables and fruits. I grab some of the wrapped up bread and a knife, handing it over to Peter.

He slices me a piece and I take it, taking a bite before leaning against the wall. He gives me a raised brow. "That's all you're going to eat?"

I swallow, taking another bite and ignoring how dry my mouth feels. "There's not much to choose from since there seems to be no leftovers from breakfast. Plus I don't want to open anything new. I just need something to keep me full until lunch."

"And you decided the best thing for that would be a slice of bread?" He rolls his eyes and grabs a bag of dehydrated fruit and tosses it to me. I just barely manage to catch it. "Eat."

"Since when did you care so much about my wellbeing?" I ask, opening the bag and eating a piece of the dark red fruit. Strawberries,and I have to keep my face from puckering at the taste. Dehydrated fruit is always so sour.

"I've always been concerned for your wellbeing."

"By suggesting we get drunk, climb onto the roof of a building and make pterodactyl noises at people."

"I also suggested the Rec room, plus all good friends have to do stupid stuff together. And I think we're both a bit too old to go smashing in mailboxes or setting things on fire."

I laugh at that, eating another piece of fruit, only pausing when I choke. I cough a few times before managing to swallow it down. Peter laughs.

"Don't die on me now, Callista. That'd be an extremely sad way to go. Survived being infected only to choke on a piece of fruit the next day."

I snort. "Well, with everything I've survived, I think no matter which way I die it'll still be funny. I've survived mind control, literal torture and experimtnetation, being bitten, being infected-hell, I've even survived after having been chased by lions."

"I remember that!" Peter laughs, his hand covering his eyes as he giggles madly. "God, that feels like a lifetime ago."

"No matter which way I die, when people learn about me in history they're just going to laugh because I still managed to die after everything I survived."

"Hm. Lucky," He chuckles, and my face falls, because I know, in all actuality, I'm not. Peter shakes his head, as if trying to rid himself of any sad thoughts coming to mind. "Well, uh, if you're finished eating, I say we should go find those kites. Who knows, maybe if we have some extra time we'll be able to get actually do something interesting."

•

It's evening when I get back to the coms shack, my skin covered in already healing scrapes and bruises. After kite flying, running around the track, and Peter attempting to torutre me by trying to throw me into the goat pen as a prank, I'm back here, ready to rest for a bit.

When I open the door, I'm surprised to see Sam sitting at the coms desk, one hand propped under his chin as he reads through the Bible. He looks up, smiling when he sees me.

"Hey."

"Hi. I thought you had a Demons and Darkness session tonight."

"We did, but I decided to dip out a little bit early to come back here."

I frown, my eyebrows knitting together in concern as I close the door with a soft click. "Everything okay?"

He nods. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. I just... wasn't really having the best time so I thought I'd just come back here, read a bit."

"Oh."

"How was your day?" He asks as he takes off his glasses.

"It was good. Peter was an excellent babysitter."

He laughs, the sound making my heart swell in my chest. "Was he now?"

"Oh, yeah. Although he did try to throw me into the goat pens, so I had to fight him, which is why I'm healing from bruises. He'll be okay, but he'll never do that again."

That causes Sam to laugh harder, and I smile at just how happy he looks. He looks so beautiful like that. I take a seat on the bed, my smile slowly fading. Even with Peter doing his best to keep me entertained, a thought did come to mind, several times actually, growing increasingly louder in my head as the day went on.

"Hey, Sam," I say once his laughter has died down. "I have a question."

Sam looks at me, his smile still on his face, amusement still in his eyes. I can see it mix with newfound curiosity. "Okay."

"My wedding dress-I hid it in there." I point to the small conjoining room. "Do you want to see it?"

He straightens immediately, eyes widening. Eagerness and confusion crosses his face. "When you say wedding dress... do you mean your actual wedding dress or that one you decided to keep when you were making Maxine and Paula's?"

I almost laugh. "My actual wedding dress."

There's a pause. "I don't understand. Why-"

"I just wanted to ask. If you don't want to see the dress-"

"No, you've been very clear that I cannot see you in that dress before the wedding." Sam crosses his arms. "What's changed?"

I sigh as regret seeps in. I know better than to try to lie mysef out of this one. "I was just asking because I wanted to know if you wanted to see me in the dress because-because..." I grit my teeth, "because of the chance that we won't make it to see the wedding date."

The silence that fills the air afterwards is crushing.

"What do you mean?"

His voice is soft, and in this moment he sounds so vulnerable. I can't look him in the eye.

"You know what I mean."

"Is this because of yesterday?"

I don't reply.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"I don't." The words come out as a hiss. I don't like to think about myself dying, but the thoughts are still there-the memory of losing control, feeling as if my life is slipping like water through my fingers. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it, but I can't stop. I can't stop reliving it."

"Okay... Let's talk then."

"I'm not completely immortal, not like Peter. I'm not invicible and I don't know how to deal with it." I close my eyes, gripping the soft blanket of the bed. "I thought the one good thing about being immortal was the fact that you would never have to see me... die. And now there's still a chance that I could die in one of the worst ways and I..."

I hear the chair squeak and a second later I feel the bed dip as Sam sits beside me. Finally I open my eyes to see his are staring down at his lap.

"I don't know how to deal with it, either," Sam admits. "I hated knowing you were immortal because it means you're stuck here, not aging, at least until we find a way to cure it. But I also was glad for the same reason you were-I'd never have to see you die."

I'm silent for a long moment. "I'm sorry you had to see what happened yesterday."

"I'm sorry you had to go through it."

"I'd rather not do so again."

He chuckles at that, and I force a small smile. "I'd rather you not either. I think I got even more gray hair from the stress."

I laugh. "Am I going to have to find you some hair dye?"

"I don't know. Jody's hair isn't looking too great right now."

"That's because she dyed her hair black when she and blonde hair. You wouldn't be dying it a different color." I take a piece of gray hair between my fingers, but I let go a second later to cup his face. He leans into it. "Do you really think we'll make it through this? That we'll be okay?"

"I have to. I don't think I could handle it if we don't."

I don't answer, instead leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It's soft, gentle, comforting. Sam grabs my free hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles as I kiss him again and again, trying to let the soft touches and gentle kisses push away all the anxiety that runs rapid in my mind. It won't get rid of it. I know that much, but it can quiet the buzzing sounds at least for now, and that's what I need. I just need something besides the memory of not being able to breathe, of the Glass Protocol right on my tail, of losing the ability to differentiate reality from fantasy.

I move my kisses to the edges of Sam's mouth, then his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his forehead, then finally back to his mouth again. I remain gentle, my lips just barely brushing his skin. I lean my forehead against his, just barely opening my eyes. Through my lashes I can see him looking back at me, his eyes full of love and comfort. He pulls me closer to him and I sigh into his shoulder.

His hair gets into his eyes, and I laugh lightly before using the hand that was cupping his face to brush the stray hairs away. Sam closes his eyes at my soft touch, and I realize how long it's been since we just held each other like this, doing nothing but giving comforting kisses and gentle touches to make things feel better, to just be together in an embrace.

God, I've missed it.

I kiss him again, bringing my arms around his neck, holding him close. I feel the warmth of his skin on my own and I take in a breath of air when our lips part, feeling okay for the moment. No, not okay, but better.

It's a start.

Sam strokes my face, and I look at him with such love and adoration when he comes back to kiss me again, content to do so for hours.

But he stops short when a loud alarm goes off. I pull back, my watch ringing loudly, chaotically. I grit my teeth as I fumble to make it stop. Once it does, the silence almost seems too loud.

"What was that?"

I have to bite back a whine as I stand. "It's the alarm to let me know I have my first plasmapheresis treatment. Paula wanted to wait a little over twenty-four hours after receiving the cure to get my first one so it wouldn't filter the cure out of my blood, if it is actually a cure."

"Oh."

"Yeah." I run my hand through my hair, before forcing a small smile. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Why don't I come with you?" He asks as I take a step forward. I bite the inside of my cheek.

"Are you sure you want to be there for that?"

He nods and takes my hand into his own, bringing it up to place a kiss on my knuckles. I can't stop the small smile that pulls at my lips as we head out and walk towards the hospital.

When we reach it, we head inside and go straight for the basement. I pass by the room with the cryo-freezers. I don't look that way. I don't like seeing what's in there.

There are still Girl Guides in there, ones that were bitten. Sigrid tried to convince me Janine refused to help them, although really it was that we couldn't. She even sent runners out to help them, but they were too late.

After taking back Abel we woke them up and gave them the choice of plasmapheresis. Since they are so young they have faster metabolisms, meaning they would need more treatments and would have less time. Some chose to the treaments, some decided to go back into the cryo-freezers.

We reach the room with the plasmapheresis machine, and Paula and Maxine are already waiting for me. Maxine seems sympathetic, but Paula is too busy making sure everything is hooked up correctly to really notice me. She seems rather calm, although with how many times she's done this herself and with others I'm not surprised.

Maxine takes my hand, guiding me into the machine. I'm standing, my back against the cold metal. Paula pushes a IV into my vein, and I wince. It burns from my body trying to heal itself, but the needle stays, making the efforts fruitless. She puts another IV into the same arm, and does the same for the opposite arm.

Without a word she flips a switch, and I see a clear liquid travel through two of the tubes in my arms. When it reaches me I grit my teeth at the sudden pain that floods my body, starting at my arm and spreading everywhere else.

"I'm sorry, Callista," Paula says, looking pained. "I wish I could give you pain killers, but the machine would just filter them out."

"It's fine," I croak. "I'll maybe try to sleep or something to help with it. How long am I going to have to be here?"

"That's a good idea, and just an hour today. It will probably be the only one you need until I get the results back. When I was first infected I only had to get plasmapheresis once a week."

I nod, closing my eyes. I feel a warm hand caress my arm. I know it's Sam, and I let out a breath as the pain continues, trying to find a bit of rest to make the time pass faster.

•

I don't like what I see when I open my eyes.

I'm not in the hospital basement. I'm on a ship-a nice ship. There's long red rugs covering the hallways and mini chandeliers acting as the light fixtures. I tilt my head to the side in confusion. This place seems so familair, and yet I know I've never been here before.

Or at least, I don't remember being here before.

I walk forward, looking around at the drawings, at the closed doors that all are locked.

"This can be one of three things," I mutter, "a future vision in my point of view, a past vision in someone else's point of view, or-"

I hear something behind me, and I press myself into the wall just in time to miss being slammed down by another person. The woman turns around, amber eyes meeting brown, hatred simmering within them.

"Oh, come on!" I yell, and the Original grins. "Can't you give me a break? I literally almost died yesterday, in many different ways!"

She hums. "That's a shame. Too bad death didn't follow through."

She charges at me, and I dodge, bringing my knee up to kick her in the stomach and then push her away. She stumbles, glaring at me, and I'm thankful that I did all that training with Tom.

"I literally do not have the time for your guilt trip monolguing right now."

She tries to come at me again, but again I dodge. She brings her arm up, faking out so when I come to block I don't have time to jump away as she slams her other fist into my chest. I let out a gasp, stumbling back, but then grit my teeth and punch her hard in the jaw.

"I get it. You hate me. You blame me for us not completing Project Feive. Are you done?"

"You are to blame," She replies, and I have to fight to keep from rolling my eyes. This time I change at her. She hits me hard across the mouth, but I ignore the pain and tackle her to the ground, shoving her face into the rug and holding her hands behind her back.

"Enough of this!" I yell. "I am not to blame! Not for this. I've done a lot of bad things in my life. I've made more than enough mistakes, but this was not my fault. I was a child. I didn't even know Chorus or Cameron. I could have still been in America when they died. I didn't know. There was nothing I could have done to stop it. Chrysalis died for a cause she believed in. I tried to stop it but I didn't know how. She sacrificed herself for the greater good. Isn't that what our team was supposed to do? Help the greater good? Nothing I could have done would have changed what happened!"

"But there's everything you could do to fix it, and you still haven't," She replies, spitting out blood. She must've busted her lip when she hit the ground.

"How? Tell me how to fix it. Tell me how to get you to leave me be."

"I will never leave you alone, not until you've fixed what you did to us."

"I didn't do anything to you!" I push her harder into the rug. "I don't know how I'm supposed to fix this when you won't tell me! Do I have to die? Because if so then you are just gonna have to stay mad, because I'm not going anywhere."

"That is what I'd perfer, but there is..." She pauses to spit more blood, "possibly, other ways-more complicated ways."

"Ways you're not going to tell me because you like torturing me?" I guess.

"It is the least I can do after you failed us so greatly."

"I was a kid!" I slam my fist into the back of her head, breathing hard when she lets out a pained grunt. "I don't understand why you can't just let it go! Move on! Cameron did! She got married, had a kid, got divorced... Chysalis loved Tony. She died for him. I didn't even know Chorus. Janine refuses to talk about her. I'm engaged. I have five kids, and I've had to fight to keep the three I still have alive. Get a life! I don't know why you're clinging onto this so badly. I mean, we were going to die eventually. What then? What would happen to your precious team after we all died off?"

The Original laughs, the sound cold and cruel and terryifying. "We wouldn't die. We never would have died."

I blink. "What? N-no, that's not possible. I wasn't immortal before this."

"You didn't need to be. We had a way to live on, defeat death."

"H-How?"

I hear the smile in her voice as she speaks. "Tell me, just what do you think Moonchild did to you? And do you think she's the only one who had that idea?"

Before I can answer she sharply turns. The next thing I know I'm heading for the ground, but instead of hitting the rug and hard flooring underneath, I'm met with freezing cold water. I'm holding onto a life ring. I can see Paula and Maxine in a little dinghy. There's a man with them.

It's-it's...

It's Albert.

This is a memory. My memory.

"The dinghy's to your right. You have to swim toward it now." Sam inhales sharply. "But the floor of the ballroom is headed for your head! Go faster! Get out of the way! H-Hold onto the life ring! You're nearly in!"

I reach my hand out. Paula's hand is so close to mine.

"Duck!"

Something hard slams into my entire right side. Pain shoots up my head, and I'm underwater before I can even realize I've let go of the life ring.

"No!" Paula shrieks. "We've lost her!"

"Five, hold on!" Sam cries, and I know how this goes. I hear Janine, I hear Sarah. I swim up.

Only this time, Janine's voice never comes, nor Sarah's. I'm just here, sinking into the freezing depths. I try to move, but my body stays still, going further and further down. My limbs don't obey my brain's commands, remaining motionless even as I try to swim, to move, something!

My lungs burn, aching for air as I keep going down, down, down. I try again and again, everything in me screaming to move, but I don't.

I scream, but the sound is blocked out. No one hears.

Cold water fills my lungs. Salt coats my tongue and burns my throat. There's a sharp pain in my chest as the dark water takes me completely.

•

"Wake up, Callista. It's alright." My eyes fly open, and I'm breathing heavily as Paula removes the IVs from my arms. She rubs my arms gently. "It's okay. It's just a nightmare."

She turns to Maxine. "Her heart rate is elevated, but nothing serious. She'll need water and sleep."

She tried to help me out of the machine, but I basically fall into Sam's arms. I'm shaking, shivering.

"Is she-is she supposed to be this cold?" He asks, and Maxine places her hand on my forehead.

She frowns. "No, that's not normal. Callista, are you feeling okay?"

I still taste salt on my tongue, and my throat burns as I force a nod. "Y-Yeah. I'm just cold."

I hold onto Sam, only one thought in my mind as he leads me out of the hospital to rest.

What the hell was that about?

A/N: Here you go, guys. Sorry this chapter is a little long. Still I hope you enjoyed it. I've decided to dedicate it to Saxophone_Obsessor

Please be sure to vote and comment. Thank you and have a blessed day.