A R L O

I was prepared to die.

That's what I told myself when Gigi, Finn and I walked across an atrium in the ONNT headquarters between the office buildings and the scientific and health center.

The sun was out for once, and its warm rays prickled my feverish skin. All I could hear was...everything. Bird wings flapping high overhead, the steady breathing from my teammates' chests, the footsteps of a hundred scientists in the building before us. By now, I was very used to being overloaded with sensory input, but my apprehension for today's procedure was magnifying it.

I would never admit it, but having Finn and Gigi here was the only thing giving me enough courage to go in there and subject myself to the doctors. Since my last visit, I had gotten blessedly used to not being around the sterilized equipment and needles. Going back was...difficult. I didn't know why. I wasn't scared, per se. Doctors did make me uneasy—they always had, all through my childhood. But it wasn't fear that swam in my veins as the automatic doors of the medical facility swung open.

The feeling was something like...finality. This was the day I would either be healed or be handed a death sentence—for I knew I didn't have many days left to try more than one treatment. I could feel it in my weakening bones: I was on death's doorstep. No, scratch that. By now, I was inside death's house, flirting with the idea of never seeing the light of day again.

It wasn't that my teammates hadn't tried to help me, for they had done what they could. But there wasn't much to be done, especially not in the middle of a full-blown war in which we happened to be losing terribly.

Despite her grief about Neve's death, Gigi tried healing me again and again. It brought very temporary relief from the racking headaches, but the chill never left my bones. The day after, I always woke up feeling worse than before. It was almost as if my body was reacting to her healing by working against it more ferociously than before. While she had done her best, it was like trying to hold water in a jug with a hole in the bottom.

There it was. The stench of sterile tools and latex gloves. I wrinkled my nose when the smell wafted over me.

Finn's shoulder brushed against mine as we walked through another doorway. I kept my eyes down, though every part of my being was focused on his body close beside me. Neither of us had said a word about him joining Gigi and I here, he had just silently joined us. With a shock, I realized he'd only come because he knew I hated it here. Why he would do such a thing for me, I had no idea. All I knew was that something that had lain dormant deep down inside me for all these years was beginning to stir.

That thing alone was what made me hope for good news today.

Hunt was standing in the doorway of the room and turned when he heard us approaching. I saw surprise flit over his face for a split second once he laid eyes on me; we had gone without seeing him for the days we'd been at war, and apparently the toll it had taken was evident in my face.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, uncharacteristically showing concern through his tone.

"Like I'm dying," I answered with a straight face. Finn's hands clenched at his sides, but I knew he was feeling guilty for being used to this by now.

The ONNT director's eyebrows lowered in consternation, but he moved inside, gesturing for us to follow. We found ourselves in a somewhat large place divided between two connected rooms. The first seemed to be more of an examination area, while the second—partially out of view—was taken up by a machine that looked something like a see-through gas chamber.

I wasn't the only one to be perturbed by it—Gigi moved infinitesimally closer to me at the sight of the machine. I could hear how her heart skipped a beat; it reminded her of the things she went through at the asylum.

A tall female doctor standing beside Hunt said my name, calling my attention to her. "We've finally found a solution we believe could stop your body from destroying itself," she said. "Thank goodness Julia is here, because we'll be needing her power today."

"What are you giving to him?" Finn spoke when I said nothing.

"Scientists here have been studying the drugs Orion uses to enhance his soldiers' healing abilities," Hunt told us. "While they are not enough to stop your body's cycle of destruction alone, Arlo, we think we have created a powerful enough derivative that potentially could."

"While Imperium's drug exists as a liquid for a syringe, it will be administered today through a gaseous state through a hyperbaric chamber-like machine. That way, we think your body will..." The doctor kept going on, but my gaze shifted back to the gas chamber. I knew I would have to be shut inside and let their drugs be breathed into me.

And there was always a possibility it wouldn't work. Or it would kill me outright.

After further thought, I figured either way was fine: I would die in the next few days, or I would probably die with the rest of my teammates on the battlefield. Finn and all my friends were the primary reason why I didn't want to go, but with some thinking, I rationalized that we'd all be together in hell anyway.

Until they joined me, Neve and I could watch their bad decisions and have a good laugh about it.

I got the feeling someone had asked me a question, so I snapped back to reality, eyes back on the doctor. "Yes," I said before thinking, completely unaware of what I just agreed to.

"That settles it." The doctor put down her papers. "Your recovery plan will now commence. If you'll follow me..."

With one last glance exchanged with Finn, I turned and went to the chamber where the doctor was waiting. "Just sit in there," she said, pointing to the single chair inside. "You shouldn't feel any pain or drowsiness. An uncomfortable sensation at first, perhaps, but that is to be expected."

I obliged, letting my weak legs give out under me, giving me blessed rest, even though I'd only been standing for a regular amount of time. The rounded glass door was shut firmly, leaving me encased alone in the chamber. Not wanting to see my companions' worried faces, I stared at my own reflection on the wall, meeting my own warped gray eyes.

The doctor called to me that the treatment was about to begin, but it sounded hollow and far away from inside the chamber.

A hissing noise came from above, which I guessed was the gaseous drug being released. My eyes instinctively fluttered closed. It smelled like something familiar, I realized. Something that evoked a vague memory from long ago.

There was no taste or different temperature as the vapor went into my nostrils and parted lips, but the air in the chamber became as humid and moist as a rainforest. Sweat began to bead on my forehead.

The doctor was right when she spoke of the uncomfortable sensation. I felt the vapor with every rise and fall of my chest. It was in my throat, hovering inside my lungs, seeping into my skin. With it so overwhelming, I couldn't tell whether it was making me feel healthier or sicker.

After a lifetime of stewing alone in the vapor, there was a vacuuming noise and I knew the drug was being removed from the chamber. As the room cleared, I found myself becoming more and more lightheaded.

When the fog was completely gone, the doctor popped open the door and helped me stand. "This needs to be fast." She sounded strangely far away. "If the disease inside you is truly gone, we only have a few moments to heal the damage it did before your weakened heart begins to fail." Indeed, my heart was pounding at an alarming rate. Despite its danger, I felt oddly calm.

Heavily leaning on her, I made my way to Gigi, who wore her face in a mask of determination. My breaths were coming in rapid pants. I wasn't able to speak now even if I wanted to. But she wouldn't let me die. With a hand reaching for my arm, she helped steady me on my shaky legs.

Eyes unfocusing, Gigi unleashed her power onto me. I felt its warmth fill my blood, my addled brain. Slowly but surely, my heart rate lowered from its frightening speed. The strength blessedly returned to my limbs.

"Is it working?" Finn asked, eyes roving my face for any sign of healing.

"Yes," I said, slightly breathless. "Yes."

As Gigi finished healing me, she removed her hand from my arm. I noticed how her shoulders slumped with her rapid effort. I, on the other hand, felt better then I had for...well, as long as I could remember.

The doctor made me come over to the examination area, where she took my blood pressure, temperature and other standard medical tests. I even sat perfectly still and was obedient when she took another blood test.

There was a moment of panic in which I half-expected her to come back with negative results, dooming me to my sickness. But she was smiling when she returned, saying, "Everything looks good so far. Of course, we'll need to keep you here for further consideration in case something goes wrong. But I have high hopes."

At that, my gaze flicked to Finn, who was between Hunt and Gigi, both of which were wearing very rare smiles. The tension from his body was relieved, but he regarded me with an expression filled with something I couldn't decipher.

My gaze only broke away from him when the doctor said, "The waiting room is this way, Mr. Damari."

The four of us were situated alone in the small waiting room, with Finn and I standing across the room from each other, and Gigi and Hunt near the doorway. "I'm going back to my office," the director said, flashing his watch. "If there are any issues, I will only be a call away."

Before he left, I could have sworn he winked at us.

Still wearing the ghost of a smile, Gigi said, "I'm waiting outside. I'll be sure to tell them to knock before coming in here," and slipped out of the door.

Leaving Finn and I completely alone.

My eyes slid to him. He still watched me with that same strange look.

"What?" I asked, glad he couldn't hear how fast my heart was beating. Earlier, it had hammered out of apprehension. It kept its heavy pace, but now for a completely different reason.

He crossed his arms. "Do you have anything you want to say to me?"

My face was twisted in a strange smile, somewhere between a frown and a smirk. I racked my brain for what he was hinting towards, but my thoughts seemed to be jumbled again.

"Yes," I started, hoping it was what he wanted to hear. "You were there for me when I needed someone, even when I didn't think I did. No one has ever done that for me. Thank you."

He'd better appreciate that, I thought wildly to myself. I couldn't remember the last time I'd used any manners.

Finn hesitated, as if taking in my statement and running through every word in his mind. "I'd do it again, if I had to. But that's not what I meant."

Why was I so stupid? And why was he staring at me like that? "If you're going brag about the fact that you were right that I'd get better, I'll let you do it just this once."

"I'm not going to brag." He heaved a sigh, exasperated with my difficulty. Took a step closer. "You said we would talk about things once you weren't on your deathbed. And you're not on your deathbed now."

"Oh. That." Though my wild smile grew, I became unaware of what to do with my hands, my arms, my whole self.

"So..." He crossed his arms and raised his chin. "Say what you couldn't say then."

No. I was terrible at voicing my thoughts, especially in his presence, as history showed. And there was nothing I scoffed at more than people speaking from the heart.

But he was watching me, waiting patiently for a response. I cursed silently. He was probably expecting me to say nice things, to open my soul to him about my thoughts and feelings. Ridiculous.

"I'm thinking that I'm a bad person. I'm half-mad and I don't even mind. In fact, I even like it. I'm supposed to be insane, a criminal, someone who licks the blood off knives and then slits throats at random. You're good, you're brave and you haven't let anything change who you are. You are a ray of light in this world and I only bring darkness. I'm not supposed to want someone like you."

"So do you?" His lips twisted into a wry smile. "You've never been one for rules."

"I've never...experienced anything like this. Admittedly, I've never thought of anyone other than myself. I never cared for anyone before. I never thought I could.

"Then I got sick. And I thought I would have rather spared myself from the dreadful waiting and just ended myself then and there. But when I told you about my sickness, something inside me knew I couldn't squander the time I did have. And the more time I spent—especially with you—I realized I didn't want to die. Not at all. I couldn't leave you behind. And the others, obviously. Just not...in that way." I was unsure of what I was saying now. I tore a hand through my unruly hair. "I guess I'm just trying to say...every time I look at you, I wish for more time."

Finn's voice was soft, restrained, when he said, "Now you don't have to wish." Then his tone dropped. "When were you planning on telling me all this before the cure? Never?"

"I don't know." I ran a hand over the back of my neck. "I've never really...felt anything before. I don't know how to do these kind of things. Feelings and shit." In spite of myself, I nearly laughed at how stupid I sounded. "I mean, I don't even know if you like boys—"

"You're a damned idiot," Finn said before closing the distance between us.

Luckily Finn was only ever so slightly taller than me—a fact that I would never admit out loud—because we were at the perfect height when he brought his lips to my own.

Admittedly, I'd never kissed anyone before—an obvious fact, given my childhood. A split second after I realized what Finn was doing, I feared I might even be awkward at it. But as it happened, I knew exactly what to do. He pulled me closer and I cupped his face, mapping out his sharp cheekbones and strong jawline underneath my fingertips.

His lips parted slightly under my own and it seemed so natural I half-wondered if he'd ever done it before. I nearly scoffed at the thought of sweet, composed Finn doing this with anyone else. Then again, I supposed he wasn't as composed as I thought for having caved first and basically jumped me. Not that I was complaining in the slightest.

As his slender fingers tangled in my hair, I was vaguely aware of that same feeling from earlier unspooling in my chest, like this was the final act that had freed it. Perhaps I would let it stay for a while. God knew I needed as much light in my life as I could get. And Finn was enough.

There was so much happening I could barely separate and process it. His heart was beating rapidly against my own, breaths coming in short pants, the air around his body heating. In fact, I didn't think I'd ever felt this hot in my life.

This was what I had waited so long for. This was what had taken me months to do. I was a damned idiot for not doing it ages ago. So I kissed him now, for all the times I'd imagined making him aware of how deeply I felt and for all the times I'd thought of this moment and hadn't taken it.

And now that I was sharing this moment with this golden, beautiful boy, I didn't want to do it with anyone else.

At first, I thought it was miraculous for him to have won me over, made me feel something amongst my sea of madness. But now I knew I was the lucky one, for he had chosen to open himself up to me: an erratic, violent, train-wreck of a person.

Why he'd chosen me, I had no idea. But I no longer doubted his choice with the way he gripped at my clothes when our mouths met.

Eventually, unfortunately, we broke apart. Arms around my torso, he laid his forehead against my own, golden curls brushing my skin. I kept my eyes closed, wanting to relish in the moment before reality set in again.

"You told me I'd be saved," I said in a quiet voice, thinking aloud. "You told me I'd be happy."

"Are you?" It was a whisper.

"Yes," I said. "You were right all along."