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Rhys Darcy

Liala and I sit in the lobby of the hospital, nervous and uncertain of how things are going to proceed from here.

After the recent update from Lionel, caged remarks over what he might have found but was unwilling to divulge completely, I'm left stranded between two situations that I don't know how to handle.

What I told Kaito a few weeks ago -- that I don't know if it will be better for me to simply stay or to keep fighting -- remains true. This has gone beyond some sort of innocent exam to see who is worthy of a method of escaping from the city. There are drugs and monsters, people dying and no truth being revealed.

The fact is that there is no reason to continue on at this rate.

Should I pretend to ignore what I have been learning, that there is a lot of danger? Should I pretend to ignore that our team has been singled out, those surrounding us have been singled out -- all for the sake that, maybe, just maybe, we'll get to leave?

I don't even think I want to know what the truth is anymore.

Lionel hinted at it in his email. He wouldn't even tell Liala, promising that he just needs to look into it more before he tells us. I know something has him spooked, more than this game, but he won't tell.

Liala, Kaito and I are left to continue struggling in the dark.

Liala sits hunched forward next to me, playing with her phone as her leg taps awkwardly on the linoleum surface of the waiting room. She's pretending to be Lianel today, because we are here for our shots. Even after all they have been through, they need to keep coming in one at a time.

The twins have confessed that they are pretty certain that ALICE knows the complete truth about them. Knowing what I do, how we were attacked, about Lionel's involvement with modifying his app, I wouldn't be surprised. So why continue the charade?

Probably because ALICE keeps it up, so we all do too.

The hospital doors slide open. I glance up to spot a splash of bright red hair and the flash of a toothy smile.

Ayn saunters up to the check in desk. The moody man next to her must be Fletcher, the mysterious partner of hers that I know absolutely nothing about except that Lysander doesn't like him.

She speaks to the receptionist at the desk, then when she turns to the sofas of the waiting room, she spots me and the smile sparkles brighter.

Fletcher follows half a step behind, not a single look of confusion on his face as she steers towards us. His hands are tucked into his pockets, but his shoulders are perfectly straight and manage to hold an air of regality about them.

Or snobbery. I can't decide.

This is my first time getting a good look at him. He sports a small black piercing at the right corner of his lower lip, and a high collar that covers most of his neck. A very strange and incongruous painting when posed next to the girl who is almost as radiant as the sun.

"Rhys!" she chirps happily as I rise to my feet. She shakes my hand warmly. "How good to see you again. And... Lianel, was it?"

Liala jumps to her feet as well, eyes wide and a tint of embarrassment across her cheeks. "Yes. Um. Hi."

Ayn gestures to the man at her side. "Fletcher, this is Rhys Darcy and Lianel Lions. He's friends with Lysander."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he replies, soft enough that it doesn't sound robotic, but stiff enough to not sound meaningful. Unlike Ayn, he doesn't offer a hand. "I trust you've been having as much fun as we have for this whole game?"

I snort, and this earns me a small hint of a smirk.

A nurse appears in the doorway leading to the back rooms, and calls out, "Mr. Lions and Mr. Darcy!"

"We'll leave you to it then," Ayn says, dropping down into the chair across from where we had been seated. "It was nice running into you." For some reason, the rehearsed lines sound so much more genuine from her, but I've seen the way she can switch between the smiling, bubbly girl and the straightforward woman that had come with Lysander to dinner the other night.

I don't know which one I believe, but at least her words are honest.

Liala, still fumbling with her phone and quite possibly avoiding eye contact, mumbles a goodbye as we make our way forward.

I glance down at her as we walk, arching an eyebrow. "You okay there?"

Liala nods, scratches the back of her neck and shoves her phone into her pocket. "Like... I know she's not really your type or anything, but don't you think she's really pretty?"

I consider this, more from an older brother's perspective of hearing his younger sister admitting something they have never really talked about. "She is, yes," I agree as we're led back to one of the small rooms to wait longer. It's routine by now, and these nurses are familiar with our files to not have to go through the same spiel they went through before.

As we settle into the room, a new thought occurs to me. "Is she yours?"

"What?"

"Your type. Is she yours?"

Liala doesn't reply right away, giving this question a very similar consideration to the one I had just used on hers. "I don't know." She glances at me, and I can see the trace of worry in the corners of her eyes that she attempts to shrug off.

It takes no time at all to complete the shots, though Liala still has the same nervous reaction she always has when it comes to needles. I wish there was some other way they could inject the serum. There have been advancements in technology that would allow for such a thing. Yet they have very old fashioned equipment for this game.

Liala wavers as she rises to her feet, eyebrows lifting in surprise as the nurse reaches out to steady her.

"Woah, there," he says, a concerned line to his brow. "Are you okay there, Mr Lions?"

She takes a moment to respond, but then nods and pushes herself upright into a proper standing position. "Yeah. Must be a little hungry. Got dizzy when I stood up, is all."

I keep my comments to myself. She hasn't mentioned being hungry for the last two hours that we have been together. Normally, both she and Lionel have no qualms about protesting the state of their hunger.

I pick up my jacket and follow behind her into the reception area, watching carefully in case anything else happens. She’s a little unsteady, but it's not anything terribly new. Her health hasn’t been the best lately, and I can’t stop myself from worrying constantly.

Worrying will only do so much, however. Especially with her chronic poor health. Meliora is not doing any of us any favors.

Our nurse puts away our files at the station and says, "We'll see you again next month."

Liala’s hand flutters to her forehead as we walk through the hall, and time slows to a halt. She gives a faint, "I don't feel so good," before crumbling towards the floor.

My mind races but my body remains in a vat of pitch, unable to move towards her.

The nurse is there first, checking her pulse and pupil dilation.

Other nurses swarm the area, and an instant later, I'm pulled back into my body as Ayn's hand grasps my shoulder.

"What happened?" she asks, though the question is not directed at me. That's fine. I'm not too sure I can manage words right now anyway.

"Reaction to the shot, perhaps," one nurse says. I think she was the one leading in Ayn. "His pulse is weak."

I don't know what to do, despite having raised her with her health conditions. Do I keep up the ruse that Liala Darcy is Lianel Lions? A teenage boy, who has no medical excuse as to what might be happening?

There's any number of reasons why Liala would faint -- not all of them related to ALICE and their game.

A stumbled phrase works its way out of my mouth but then Liala's eyes shoot open and she jerks upright.

"I'm sorry!" she gasps. Then, noticing what is happening, clears her throat and tries again in something resembling a wavering, faint version of Lionel's voice. "I just... Uh. Why am I on the floor?"

I crouch down beside her, taking her hand in mine and using the other to steady her shoulder.

Our nurse mirrors my pose. "Can you stand?" he asks, because I have no authority here to do so.

Liala hesitates, nods, and rises unsteadily to her feet with our help. She does her best to laugh it off. "Got a bit woozy there. Feels more like I donated blood to a vampire."

She's always had low blood pressure. Some days worse than others depending on the time of the month for her.

Coupled with what we know about the shot, and how her friend Glen had passed a few weeks ago, I would imagine that the cause would be the long exposure to the Vitamin E finally building up against her.

"You should sit down and rest for a bit," the female nurse says. "I'll bring you something to snack on, but we'd like to you to rest here until we're certain you're fine."

I'm practically pushed out of the way as the nurses take over, doing another quick check of her pulse, pupils, and then promptly depositing her onto one of the plastic chairs. I'm not her brother here. I'm her teammate.

At my side, Ayn gives my shoulder another hesitant touch. "Is she going to be okay?" she asks, voice pitched low so that I have to lean in towards her to hear. Fletcher is not paying attention, and I wonder how much he knows. About our situation, about Ayn's situation. Lysander certainly doesn't seem to think highly of him.

My response comes out on a tired exhale. "I think so. I can't really say. There's been... so much happening."

She nods in understanding. "Let me know how she is later.”

"I will. Thank you."

Ayn pats my shoulder then moves to crouch before Liala. They hold a brief, muttered conversation, before Ayn follows after the nurse who had been leading her. She disappears along with Fletcher into one of the rooms, and the door closes with a soft click.

I scrub a hand over my face. I should tell Lionel. I should tell Kaito. I don't know how long we're expected to sit here, or if she'll be okay.

Liala pats the chair next to her, the tap tap barely audible with the weak wave of her wrist. "Sit next to me, Rhys."

I do, if only because I don't know what else to do. "Have you been having problems lately?" I ask, and mimic Ayn's low tone of voice. It feels very conspiratorial, and I can't help but think how Lionel and Liala used to whisper like this in the hospital recovery rooms all the time when they thought that I wouldn't be able to hear them.

But that was ages ago -- before Eminence, before ALICE.

She pauses when the nurse brings her juice and some biscuits from their break room. Then she shakes her head and nibbles on one of the biscuits. "Nothing more than usual. I mean... my period has been a bit heavy, and I had cramps like nobody's business yesterday. But nothing out of the ordinary."

"You think you had a bad reaction then? Nothing more?"

"I don't know. I'm not science smart, but doesn't it take longer than that to kick in?"

I don't know what 'longer than that' is supposed to entail, but I suppose she's right. The possibility of the months of having a high amount of Vitamin E in her bloodstream must have just culminated at the wrong time.

We haven’t tracked her blood sugars or vitamin levels. We haven't had to come in to the hospital for check ups nearly as often as we used to since Meliora started.

"Not much longer," I say, patting her leg. "We'll be done with this soon."

"I hope so," she mumbles in response and offers me the packet of biscuits.


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