Chapter 43: Comfort

~~~

The clock on the wall had long since blurred into a meaningless rhythm. I didn’t know how long I’d been waiting, maybe an hour, maybe two, but each second stretched out like wire pulled taut.

My hands were locked together. Fingers clenched tight, elbows resting on my knees as I stared blankly at the floor.

The door creaked open. I looked up sharply. A man stepped out, donning a white coat, clipboard in hand, and carrying a grim demeanor.

“You’re her brother?”

I stood immediately. My voice cracked. “Yeah- Yes. I’m Markus.”

He took a few steps forward, flipping through his notes. “She’s stable,” he said. “She’s unconscious but breathing on her own. We’ve got her on fluids and monitoring her brain activity. She’s resting now, but she’ll be fine.”

My knees nearly gave out, a rush of something heavy and strange washing through me. Relief. Just those few words were enough to relieve me from the burrowing anxiety.

The doctor looked back at his papers. “Before the diagnosis, tell me something. Is your sister a gifted?”

The question caught me off-guard.

“I… I don’t really know. She goes to a specialised department at our academy, but she said she didn’t have any powers. Why is that relevant?”

The doctor exhaled, not quite a sigh, more like a quiet confirmation of a hunch.

“She overworked her power,” the doctor finally said, eyes still on the papers in his hand. “There’s no mistaking it now, she’s already awakened. Likely pretty long ago. Judging by the strain on her nervous system and the residual energy levels, she must’ve pushed herself far too hard to be in this state.”

I blinked. "She’s awakened...?" I stared at him, the words echoing strangely in my head. "That can’t be right. She said… she told me she hadn’t awakened yet."

He looked up at me with a slight frown, like he wasn’t sure how to answer. "Sometimes it comes on suddenly. A traumatic event, stress, even extreme emotional duress... Any one of those can push someone into awakening without realizing it. But her energy levels suggest she’d been an awakened for a long while now.”

I stood there, mouth slightly parted, a cold chill crawling across the back of my neck. She might’ve not been lying. She probably hadn’t known better. Maybe the doctor’s diagnosis could be wrong?

I tried to reason with myself, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions and ideas swirling in my mind. That it was probably nothing serious, she could’ve been too afraid to tell, or maybe she didn’t feel like it was important to.

The doctor’s voice pulled me back. “Given the strain she put on her nervous system, the coma could range anywhere from a few weeks… to a couple of months. We’ll continue monitoring her brain activity, but right now, all we can do is wait and make sure she’s stable.”

My eyes just stayed fixed on the floor, his words hanging like thick fog around me. A few weeks… maybe more…

I recalled what happened that night. The timing. The exhaustion. The moment she collapsed, right after I came back.

She must’ve been looking for me.

While I was lying in a hospital bed with my wrist bandaged and my guilt eating me alive… she was out there, burning herself to the ground trying to find me. Pushing until her body couldn’t take it anymore.

My legs trembled. I sank into the nearest chair, elbows on my knees, hands running through my hair as I curled forward, staring at the sterile tiled floor as I took in all of this.

It was my fault again, it always was. I had robbed her days, weeks… months even. I was supposed to be her big brother. I was supposed to protect her. Instead, I became the reason she broke.

I gripped the ring tighter in my palm until it bit into my skin, the small edge pressing deeper, turning my thoughts uglier, jarring. For a fleeting second, my mind reached out, grasping for something, anything to pin this on. Maybe… maybe if Wryn hadn’t-

I stopped. Even thinking that made my stomach churn. What the hell was wrong with me?

I was still doing this. Still clawing for excuses when the truth was already carved so clearly into me. It wasn’t Wryn. It wasn’t anyone.

It was me.

I was still the same parasite; I hadn’t grown, nor had I achieved anything. I just ruined more and more lives, wherever I went. Every time I thought I could do better, that maybe I was finally starting to change, I ended up proving myself wrong.

All I’d ever done was drag the people I loved down with me.

I was still the same.

Nothing had changed.

~~~

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My pen poised in my hand, tapped against the hard wooden desk, absentmindedly twirling it between my fingers. Words seemed to fly past me, as my attention was retained on the tip of my pen.

“...ion of evolu... next chapter, turn to pa- twen...-four...”

I blinked slowly. My head still felt heavy. I just feel like thinking about anything, much less sorting through my thoughts. I just felt tired…

“...ar...kus...?”

Something brushed at the edge of my hearing. I blinked again, sluggish. Had someone-

“Markus.”

The voice sharpened slightly, tugging me more solidly back into the present. My eyes moved toward it, slowly registering the soft red hue of eyes settled on me, the sharp contrast of pale skin and that familiar concerned look.

She leaned her elbow on the edge of my desk, her scarred eye squinted shut as the other glinted at me knowingly.

“It’s lunchtime,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Less teasing, more... gentle. “C’mon.”

I stared at her for a second too long before the words clicked in my head. Lunchtime. Right. The class was ending. Everyone else had already begun to shuffle to their feet, chairs scraping against the tile, footsteps echoing.

Wryn tilted her head at me, eyebrows slightly drawn in. “You didn’t hear a word, did you?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but only managed a quiet, “...No. Sorry.”

She didn’t scold me. She didn’t smirk or make a jab about me zoning out again. Instead, her expression softened, and without another word, she reached out and gently tugged my sleeve.

“Come on,” she said again. “You need to eat.”

I nodded again, slower this time, letting the momentum of her tug guide me forward.

“Okay,” I murmured, voice rasping like it had been left untouched for hours.

We made our way down the corridor, Wryn walking just a bit ahead, occasionally glancing back to make sure I hadn’t slipped back into my thoughts again.

By the time we reached the cafeteria, the usual noise and chaos didn’t even register in my ears. I grabbed whatever looked vaguely edible, my hand grazing over cold trays and lukewarm packets, before finally joining Wryn at an empty table tucked into a quiet corner.

The food on my tray looked more like just a mess of colors and smells. I sat, the plastic seat feeling too stiff beneath me, and picked up the spoon with my off hand.

My dominant hand still wasn’t in any shape to use, might not be for a long while or perhaps forever. So I clumsily tried to scoop up a bite of whatever the hell this was with my left hand. My wrist trembled slightly as I brought the spoon toward my mouth-

Clatter.

It slipped.

The spoon hit the edge of the tray and bounced to the floor with a hollow metallic ring.

I stared at it for a moment, just long enough to feel the heat rush into my face. Without thinking, I reached down to pick it up, but before my fingers could even graze the floor-

Wryn’s hand shot out.

She gripped my wrist firmly, her warm fingers clenching harder than I expected. “No,” she said. Her voice wasn’t harsh, but it left no room for argument.

“I can get it,” I muttered, trying to wriggle my hand free.

She narrowed her eyes. “I said no.”

Before I could protest further, she tugged my hand away from the floor and then, to my stunned disbelief, leaned sideways and kicked the spoon under the table and out of reach.

“There. Problem solved.”

I blinked at her. “Wryn, I can handle myself.”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she held my hand in both of hers, guiding it gently but insistently back onto the table. “You’re not doing anything stupid with that hand,” she said, her tone soft but carrying a strange edge beneath it. “If you’re gonna eat, I’ll help.”

“Wryn, seriously. I’m fine.”

She ignored me. She didn’t bother grabbing a new spoon. Instead, Wryn picked up the one she'd been eating with, still slimy, with a little sauce clinging to its edge, and dipped it into my food without hesitation.

I frowned as she brought it toward me.

My brows furrowed deeper, and I quietly pushed the spoon away with the back of my hand, the food sliding off and back onto the tray with a muted plop.

“I don’t need it,” I told her.

Wryn froze for a moment, the cheer melting from her face. Her eye locked onto me, and then slowly, she set the spoon down, her hands settling on the table.

“…Why are you acting like this?” she asked, her voice low but steady. “You’ve been like a zombie all day, you didn't even greet me. Stop acting like this and just eat the damn food.”

I kept my gaze down, focusing on the edge of the tray. It was scratched, stained faintly with sauces from meals past. Anything was easier to look at than her face.

“Is it… because of your arm?” she asked after a breath, quieter now. “Is it because of what I did to it?”

My hand clenched around the corner of the tray.

“No,” I said finally, barely above a whisper.

“Then what is it?” she pressed, her voice fraying now, urgent. “You’re acting like I don’t even exist, Markus. Answer me.”

I stared down at the floor, willing the words I had been keeping to come out finally.

“Maybe…” I started, barely hearing my own voice. “Maybe it’s better if we stay apart.”

Wryn flinched, just barely, but I saw it. Her shoulders tensed, lips slightly parted, like she hadn’t expected to hear it. I forced myself to keep going, because if I stopped, I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish.

I couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t let her see the mess behind my eyes.

Because deep inside, a voice wouldn’t stop echoing, that there’s something wrong with me.

Everywhere I turned, people got hurt or changed. Nora and mother… unconscious. Kael, amnesia. Selina, Yuki…

There was a pattern. Like a curse that followed me.

I was the common denominator. The black mark. The shadow. And maybe if I cut myself out now, I could at least stop the bleeding before it spreads again.

Even if it meant pretending we never knew each other.

“…Why?” she asked suddenly, her voice tight and trembling. “Why are you pushing me away?”

I stayed silent, the ache in my throat too much to speak through. My body moved instead, I rose from the bench, ready to walk away.

But she moved faster.

Her chair screeched across the floor as she shot up, then without a second’s hesitation, she stepped around and slipped right into the seat I was leaving. Her hands shoved me back down, and then she was on me, pressing forward until I found myself backed into the corner of the seating, back against the wall.

Her arms caged me in, palms planted on either side. Her face close, close enough to feel her warm, hastened breathing. Her eyes gleamed, not with fury, but something more fractured. Something fragile that she wouldn’t let fall.

“I won’t let you,” she said, low and sharp, her spit flying with every word she uttered. “Not until you tell me what the fuck this is all about.”

She didn’t shout. But there was something fierce in her, something cracking underneath the surface. Her face was tight, on the verge of breaking, somewhere between grief and anger.

Her fists were trembling.

“So it is because I hurt you, isn’t it?” she blurted, eyes sharp, voice too loud in the hush between us.

“No,” I said, quickly, too quickly.

“Then what? Was it the rumours about me?!” Her words came in a rush, like they’d been waiting behind her teeth for too long. “Was it your sister? Did she tell you to stay away from me?”

“I…” My voice faded. My thoughts blurred into a black fog. I couldn’t look at her. My face turned down, a shadow falling across it, as if avoiding her gaze would soften any of this. I had nothing to say, nothing I was ready to admit. I just wanted to leave. That felt safer.

But before I could even move, she stepped in closer, closed the space between us like she knew I would try to escape. And then, without warning, her arms wrapped around me.

I froze.

It wasn’t a shy hug. It wasn’t soft or slow. It was desperate, real, shaking.

Her body pressed into mine, her head resting near my shoulder as she pulled me in like I might vanish the second she let go.

“Then tell me,” she whispered, the words just barely holding together. “Please, Markus… tell me what’s wrong.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My throat tightened. My arms hung limply by my side, like even they didn’t know what to do.

“You’re carrying it,” she murmured, her voice cracking just a little. “That look… that look of death in you. And I hate it,” she went on, softer now, like saying it louder might shatter something between us.

“That hollow stare. That silence. Like everything’s already ended inside and you’re just… walking around pretending otherwise.”

Her arms tightened around me, pressing me further into her hold, her cheek against my collar, her voice now trembling. It was like she was trying to squeeze the life back into me through the firmness of her hold.

“I’ve seen it before. I know what it means. That emptiness, I saw it in my siblings. Right before they were…”

I felt her fingers curl tighter into the back of my shirt, like she was holding onto something already slipping.

“I don’t want to lose anyone else like that,” she said. “Not again. Not you Markus. Please… don’t push me away.”

Then her forehead pressed against mine in a quiet, desperate gesture.

“Just-,” she murmured, her breath brushing against me, “-tell me what it is. What you’re hiding. I don’t care how ugly it feels to say, I need to hear it. I need you to say it,” she said, as her breath brushed down my face.

She pulled back just enough to look at me. “You’ve become too important to just disappear on me. I won’t let you leave like this.”

My breath caught. I stayed quiet for a few seconds, letting the silence stretch, thick and tense between us. Her forehead still rested against mine, and I could feel how heavy her worry was, her need for something, anything, from me.

“…My sister is in a coma.”

Wryn’s entire body tensed, her hands stiffening where they clutched my shirt. I felt her go still, like the breath had been sucked out of her.

“She overworked herself,” I went on, slowly, the words scraping out of me. “Trying to find me… when I went missing. She pushed herself too far, and now her body just gave up. And it’s because of me. Because she was worried sick… because I keep dragging everyone down.”

Her silence was loud. I didn’t look at her, much rather couldn’t. But I felt her tremble.

Then, softly, almost like she was afraid to ask, “…It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

I shook my head, words fumbling out. “No, Wryn, that’s not-”

“Don’t,” she cut in, her voice a little sharper, and I flinched at the sudden shift. “Just don’t.”

Then her arms coiled harder, tighter. I felt the air within my ribs releasing altogether.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Her voice cracked. It came out short, uneven.

Silence stretched between us, and for a while, I felt the tremble in her arms, the pressure of her hold tightening at the tipping point where it started to hurt my frame.

I sighed, trying to steady myself as much as her. “I never blamed you,” I said, my voice hoarse from the emotions I'd kept bottled up.

I paused for a moment, the words leaving my mouth before I even fully processed them. “I could never blame you,” I continued softly, almost to myself. “I’m just afraid… that I’ll hurt you too.”

Her gaze flickered down, then back to me, trying to read me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

“I don’t want to be the reason for your pain, Wryn,” I added, my voice betraying the truth I wasn’t ready to admit yet. “I’m scared... scared that just by being close, I’ll end up pulling you into something that I’d come to regret.”

Her expression softened, her face so close that I could feel the bated breath against my skin, and yet, I couldn’t find the courage to pull away. Something in the way she held me just told me she wasn’t going to let go.

"Markus," she murmured, pulling back slightly to look me in the eyes. She took a deep breath, her eyes unwavering as she spoke again, this time with more certainty.

“I’m not going anywhere… I want to be here. I’ll stand by you. I’m not going to let you fall apart.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but she was already shaking her head, continuing before I could get a word out.

"I’m strong, Markus. I’m strong enough to handle whatever life throws at me. Whatever this mess is that you’re carrying, I can take it. I’ve been through so much that you wouldn’t even believe." She hesitated for just a second, but when she spoke again, her voice was firmer.

"So… give me a chance... to be there for you. To comfort you.”

She paused for a split second and continued.

“…to comfort you like your sister did."