16 Chapter 15: True Love

Chris and Heather sat on the bed. They didn't say anything to each other. They didn't know what they could say. Chris was still trying to comprehend what had happened in the past day, and Heather was still grieving over the loss of the old couple.

"If you don't mind me asking. What did Max mean when he mentioned what you heard when you were outside?" asked Heather 

"The first night we were here, I couldn't sleep. I needed to clear my mind, so I went outside. While I was out there I heard two voices, which I believe belonged to my parents. You know, it's weird receiving the love talk from dead people."

"Yeah, I guess that would be weird. Anyways, how's your side doing?"

"I injured it two hours ago. I don't have any special ability to heal quickly, and this isn't a video game. It hurts like hell."

"Sorry for asking."

"Don't be. I shouldn't have snapped like that."

"Don't be sorry, we're all on edge right now. May I lay down next to you?"

"Yeah. You know we don't have to fake a relationship anymore. Jackson saw right through our front."

"I mean, I guess you're right, but I want it to continue."

This shocked Chris. He's been alive for sixteen years and not once has he been in a relationship. He neither knew what to say or what to do.

"If you want to. But I'm not sure how to act," said Chris.

"Just act like yourself. Don't change a thing."

"Ok, are you sure?" asked Chris.

"Yes, the you I know is the one I fell in love with. If you changed, I don't know if I could love that Chris."

"That makes sense."

"If you don't my me asking what was the outside world like?" asked Heather.

"Grey. There's nothing left of it, and I don't mind you asking."

Heather rolled onto her side and put an arm around Chris.

"Owww!"

She quickly lifted her arm. "Sorry!"

"No, you're fine. It just startled me."

Heather put her arm around Chris again, being careful not to touch any of his wounds. After a few minutes, she looked over at Chris. He was fast asleep. She felt her eyes get heavy, and she rested her head on the pillow. She closed her eyes and went to sleep.

At 5:30 in the morning, all the lights in the bunker came on. These lights were set to resemble a day and night cycle. Every room had two sets of lights. One was the day lights which went on and off automatically, and the others were to manually lights that connect to a light switch.

Chris and Heather woke up from the bright light shining in their eyes.

"The more I think about it. This is more like a prison than a second chance at life," said Chris, yawning.

"Tell me about it. The system controls when we wake up, when we go to bed, and what we can eat and how much. Yeah it sucks but maybe someday it will get better."

"Part of me wishes I would have died in the event," sighed Chris. 

"DON'T SAY THAT!" exclaimed Heather, "If you weren't here, who would keep me safe?"

"You have plenty of choices like Francis and Jackson."

"But none of them are like you."

Heather removed the covers from the bed. As she sat up, she noticed the once blue and white bed sheets were now a crimson red. Chris had bled through his bandages. His wound had opened in the middle of the night and didn't scar again. 

"Chris, your cut must have opened last night, there's blood everywhere."

"Yeah, I see that, and feel it. It hurts like hell."

"We should probably get that washed off in the shower."

"WE!!! I'm not some ninety-year-old man in a nursing home. I can take care of myself," roared Chris.

"I just want to see that you are well cared for so your wound can heal so you can get back to work. Plus, none of us have showered since we got here. Also, if we shower together, we can save water."

"Damnit, I hate when you're right," said Chris under his breath.

Heather raised an eyebrow. Chris quickly shut up and looked down. 

"For your safety, we will take a shower together. I need to make sure your wound doesn't get infected. I'm going to grab a wheelchair. Please don't move too much."

"Can you make it sound like I can take care of myself?" asked Chris.

"Nope."

Heather left the room and came back three minutes later with a standard hospital wheelchair. She helped Chris into the chair and left for the showers. In the halls the two ran into Francis, who was on his way to get food. Chris got his attention and mouthed the words "Help me" to him.

"What on earth are you doing to this poor lad?" he asked in an attempt to understand why Chris needed his help.

"His wound opened last night and there's blood all over the place. I'm taking him to the shower to get him cleaned up."

"Do you want me to take him so you can wash the bed?"

Chris smiled at his best friend. He knew their mind-reading ability had come into use, but just as quickly as his smile came onto his face, it left.

"No, I can take care of it. I don't have much work today anyways."

Francis turned to his friend in the wheelchair. "Sorry, I tried."

"Don't worry about it," replied Chris.

Heather pushed Chris past Francis and made their way to the shower room. Unlike the rest of the bunker, which was grey and prison-like, the shower room was finished with a black and white tile floor and a marble backsplash inside the shower.

"Come on and get undressed," said Heather, taking off her shirt.

"WOAH hold on there. As I said before, I don't need your help. I can take care of myself."

"You're getting my help whether or not you want it," said Heather, removing the rest of her clothes, "Let me help you now."

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