Recovery

It had been two weeks since I had practically declared myself dead.

My hands still shook when I held a gun, and my abdomen still wailed in pain at movement. I'd never been patient, and I definitely wasn't now, knowing I couldn't move even if I died for it. They practically restrained me every time I sat up to get a glass of water.

Every since my return, everyone has been on high alert. Everyone knows I should have died, and everyone also knows the only reason I didn't was because of someone else. Because of one of the so called monsters.

They didn't like to think they could be wrong about people, and they certainly had been. But, so far we only knew of one who had helped me. One who was good. But that was enough to make everyone unmotivated and scared.

Everything was a blur for me. From getting shot, afterwards. I remember seeing Ferren get in the portal, but everything from their is fuzzy. I know I had been there for more than a couple hours, but that was all it had felt like.

When Ferren and Amaya had come back for me I had already thought I was dead. I guess it was a surprise for both of us.

They're pulling together search teams already, and I knew by the end of the month I would have to be back on my feet and ready to be a soldier again. I had to be a part of one of the teams they assembled, I had to know and meet who saved me.

I knew they would never agree, but I also knew I wasn't going to let them decide. They'd already decided too much for me lately. From what I ate to which position I was healing fastest.

I had to get on that team.

And I wasn't going to get on it from this bed.