Karim returns to the exam room with Lionel's clothes still tucked beneath his arm, two pairs of boots expertly clutched in his fingers, and a small, plastic container of food in his free hand. The 'meal' he scrounged up consists of a sandwich made with bare-bones ingredients and a box of apple juice.

  This will involve blood, one way or the other, and he hopes this will be enough to compensate.

  Dr. Pareira doesn't appear to notice him come in, bent over one of the counters as she quietly scribbles something down. Karim takes the lack of urgency in her movements as a sign that nothing is seriously wrong.

  Sira remains seated on the edge of the exam table where he last saw them, one knee hugged to their chest as they stare off into space. Their expression is more vacant than it was before he left. Once his return to the room registers, however, Sira's chin pops off their bent knee and the leg drops back down to dangle loosely. Their eyes immediately snap to the food in his hands as he comes forward. He puts a soft smile on his face.

  “I promise you that this isn’t all the CPC has to offer provision-wise, but this wasn’t the best place to end up in,” he says, holding out the container. “I might be able to find something more in the morning before we depart, but I can’t make any promises. The clothing is Lionel’s and it will hopefully hold you over until we get to HQ.”

  He’s sure he’ll be able to find some decent body armor before the morning, but they don’t have the time it would take to go through the full process of getting measurements and sifting even more through this place's storage. Headquarters will be more equipped for that anyway.

  Sira blinks slowly. "Headquarters?"

  Were they this distant before I left? Karim glances between Sira and the doctor, who is still focused on recording something and doesn’t seem to have moved from her spot. Her posture is tense. Hm.

  “The CPC’s primary base of operations,” he clarifies. “Much bigger and more lavish than this place. I mentioned you’d be meeting the director? That’s where we’ll find her.”

  It takes a moment, but Sira finally lifts their hands and accepts the food. "Am I going to be able to sleep at all?" They ask begrudgingly.

  "Of course. Just a little longer now. I just said we're leaving in the morning, didn't I? I'm not that cruel a person."

  Sira's expression remains unchanged as they pop open the plastic container. He sets the shoes and clothes down on the floor as Sira appears to examine the sandwich within the plastic…for longer than he expects.

  "I know it's not the most appetizing-looking thing. I wanted to pick out something light in case your appetite was in a weird place," he says, "but it should be perfectly safe to eat."

  “That’s not what I was thinking.”

  That quick response suggests otherwise. He doesn't say that out loud. Too combative. It would accomplish the opposite of what he intended. They continue to stare at the sandwich. It could just be in his head, but the circles beneath their eyes look a little deeper than they did before he left.

  “Sira.”

  “What?”

  He keeps his voice low, "You're not being held captive. You know that, right?"

  "It's not like I have anywhere else to go. You basically told me that while in the truck, didn't you?"

  "I did," he says, "but that was me being honest, not trying to pressure you. Though, I guess whether you believe me or not when I say that, is different."

  They lower the sandwich a little. Their gaze doesn’t move with it, leaving them absently staring at the floor.

  “At some point I might.”

  He relents. “I suppose that’s all I can ask.”

  Sira pokes at the sandwich. The topmost slice of bread is soft and free of mold. He checked it himself. A lot of F-6's supply was stale while still being good to eat. He was lucky enough to find one that was fresh.

  He is, perhaps, a little too nice sometimes, as some might say.

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  “Once you’re done eating, there’s a bathroom down the hall that you can use to get changed–” he gestures toward the apparel he set down, “--and maybe clean yourself up a bit. There should be a shower back in the room that you’re welcome to use, but it would probably do you some good to get some of the gunk off your face before then.”

  Sira reaches up to touch their cheek, their slender fingers brushing up against one of the smears in question. A grimace creeps over their face as they silently nod.

  Karim gives them a gentle smile, then turns away. Dr. Pareira's body remains oriented towards the counter, but she's eyeing him with her head half-turned. She looks back to her papers, now neatly arranged, as he approaches and casually leans himself against the counter next to her.

  She speaks before he does: “For the record, I didn’t catch any of that. I’m very good at minding my own business when I need to.”

  “I didn’t think you were snooping, but I appreciate the reassurance,” he says. “How’s it looking, doc?”

  “Not ideal - nothing stands out as an emergency, but they need further evaluation,” she answers. “Their blood pressure is low, but I’m inclined to think the food you brought will help with that. They’re also underweight.”

  He raises an eyebrow. "Is that it?"

  She snorts as she flips one of the papers up. Her script is as legible as most of the other medical staff he's had encounters with. "Of course not. As we talked about earlier, there's the amnesia issue that should be looked further into. Their hair is…odd, and their skin is nearly just as pale, but it doesn't look like albinism is the culprit to me, though I'm no expert. Additionally…"

  Dr. Pariera stops to chew her lip for a moment, looking suddenly conflicted. Karim waits patiently for her to continue.

  “...I don’t think I’m comfortable doing a full medical exam on our patient here because just standing close to them had them tensed up, shaking, and starting to hyperventilate. I don't want to risk a patient becoming unstable when I'm the only staff on duty."

  “So all you’ve gotten is the bare minimum. I suppose that’ll have to do until later.” Karim shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he lets out a sigh. “I’m guessing that’s not a problem you run into often?”

  "No. Hardly anything happens here. I mostly give physicals to staff who are more bored than anything else, or stitch the occasional mundane injury closed. The rare times something serious does happen, they're usually shipped to F-1 straightaway. It may have been better to head there, in my opinion."

  Karim resists the urge to groan. Doing that would make this even messier than it already is. Best to leave as small as a trail and deal with as little red tape as possible. He almost suggests he could have stayed to help, to keep them calm, but his eyes drift back to Sira.

  They remain seated on the exam table, now sitting cross-legged. His thoughts slow to a crawl as he watches them clumsily tear the sandwich into bite-sized pieces, which they proceed to stick in their mouth and chew with some hesitation. They don't seem interested at all in his and the doctor's conversation.

  Just a little eccentric. That’s something he’s used to, but he thinks back to how they were mere minutes ago.

  The conflict in his head isn't normal. His focus is usually centered on the task at hand so that most solutions are obvious to him. He hasn't felt this much doubt in a long time.

  May as well go with whatever will make me feel the least horrible about myself.

  “Captain?” The doctor’s voice brings him back to reality. “You’ve gone quiet.”

  “I think–” he leans his cheek against one hand and pictures the dryest of grins on his face, “--that the more in-depth examinations can wait until later. But there’s one more thing I need from you before I can have that happen. Some labs.”

  "Based on what you said previously, I'm assuming these aren't ordinary labs."

  “You know how to test whether someone is infected or not, right? Most of our bases are equipped for that.”

  Dr. Pareira stops all movement. "...yes. That's a part of the routine testing here, with how thick the fog is."

  "Then what about if someone were, hypothetically, incapable of infection?"

  She’s quiet for a long moment. Slowly, she turns her head to glance at Sira, who has put down the sandwich and now sips the orange juice.

  At least there’s that.

  Then, she looks back at Karim. “You cannot possibly be suggesting…”

  Karim holds up a hand. "It's better that you don't assume too much since that's exactly what I'm trying to avoid. Now you might be getting an idea of why I asked for this to be kept off the record."

  “But you’re dragging me into whatever ‘this’ is.” She stands up, suddenly looking exasperated. One hand threads back through her hair, revealing her own collection of gray strands. “This place is small, quiet, and out of the way. That’s why I work here. I don’t want to get caught up in some kind of crazy experime–”

  “Doctor.”

  The word came out sharper than he wanted, but she was beginning to raise her voice too much. Her mouth snaps shut as a result. Her facial expression remains indignant.

  "There's no way for me to dress this up nicely," he says, cool and controlled. "This is just one of those things where, for the sake of both your sanity and mine, you do what I'm asking without thinking about it too much. I have enough leverage to guarantee that you're not forced to be involved any more than what I'm asking of you right now."

  Another long pause. She drops the hand from her hair, and he can’t help but notice how it becomes a clenched fist at her side. Karim chances another glance at Sira, who is now looking at the two of them with more than a touch of worry on their face.

  "...I may have an idea if I can get my hands on a few things," Dr. Pareira says, returning her voice to a lower volume. "But if it turns out you're wrong about your influence, I can promise you that I'm going to headquarters myself and giving you the earful of your life."

  He smirks. There we go. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  "These are for you to take with you if you need them. This is still strictly off the record." She picks the papers up on the desk and neatly stacks them. "My worry is that our patient won't do so well with needles.”

  “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

  The entire first arc (chapters 1-13 & bonus) is all on Patreon, in addition to some of the chapters from the Part II - Initiation. These will get removed from Patreon as they're posted publicly, but subscribing means having early access!