Alexander woke with a sharp intake of breath, long dark eyelashes fluttering against the pool of moonlight cast across his face.


    His body ached.


    He took another deeper breath, feeling his lungs rise and fill, his ribcage stretching and flexing with the movement. His mind spun, working hard to remember what happened, but something was amiss with his thoughts.


    He opened his mouth, a dry struggle, and tried to gasp out a word. Little more than a muffled groan escaped his lips.


    Panic swelled in his chest. He had only felt this once before when he was hospitalized after an injury.


    He was drugged.


    “…”


    Alexander deliberately closed his eyes against the unfamiliar ceiling, forcing himself to take deeper breaths. He concentrated, slowly willing his toes and fingers to move. He could acutely feel the fabric of the sheets under his fingers, smooth and cool to the touch.


    As he tried to move his limbs, pain fired through the nerves of his right arm.


    Alexander couldn’t stop himself from letting out a soft, pained cry.


    He opened his eyes again, tears stinging them.


    Someone leaned over him in the dark. “Awake already?” the man asked.


    Alexander moved his lips, but no sound came. His head was swimming, thoughts floundering in a thick haze. He closed his eyes again, frustration furrowing his brow. “W-water, plea…” he managed to croak.


    He felt movement, and the bed underneath him shifted, the upper half folding until he was in a sitting position. Someone adjusted the pillow behind his head. “Better?”


    Alexander gave a strained nod. His throat felt constricted.


    He tried to lift his arm to look at his injury, when to his horror, he realized he couldn’t. He shifted uncomfortably, finding his wrists and ankles restrained. The unusual pressure on his throat told him that his neck was also bound.


    Fear.


    Everything came into sharp focus, and he rapidly scanned the room around him—at least what he could see from his limited range of movement. A man sat to his right on a backwards turned chair, straddling it. Behind him was a hall of steel-framed beds that looked like they were pulled from an early twentieth-century hospital. Only the last four did not have drop-cloths over them.


    At the foot of his bed stood a table covered in another cloth, lumpy from the objects it concealed. Beyond that, across the aisle, was an ancient diamond-paned leaded window revealing a dark courtyard and the night sky.


    To his left was a wall of thick hospital curtains behind which was the faint glow of a lamp and the clacking of a mechanical keyboard. He could hear the muffled sound of music being played too loudly through headphones.


    Alexander swallowed the tight lump in his throat and hesitantly turned his attention back to the man next to him. “W-where am I?” he asked weakly.


    A glass was brought to his lips.


    “Drink.”


    It was a command.


    Alexander pulled away as best he could, scowling at his captor. He didn’t dare give him a chance to drug him again. “Where am I?” he demanded a little more forcefully.


    Ghost sighed through his nose and set the glass down on the nightstand next to him before turning back to Alexander. He scrutinized the boy, steel-like gaze boring into him. “You’re in no position to be asking questions,” he said darkly.


    Alexander curled his fingers into the sheets under him, his jaw tight. “Why am I tied down?” he asked through clenched teeth.


    Ghost gave him a crooked half smile, “Oh? You’re really asking that, witch?”


    A series of emotions passed over Alexander—confusion, alarm, fear. “I-I’m not!” he stammered, struggling against the restraints. Electric agony shot up through his arm again, assaulting him with nausea and a wave of dizziness.


    Alexander slammed his head back against the pillow, fighting the urge to scream when Ghost’s hand clapped over his mouth. “There’s no use in denying it. I saw you use your power,” he growled.


    Alexander’s eyes widened as his mind snapped back to earlier. The ice shell. He rapidly shook his head, fighting to speak through the man’s strong grip.


    “As if I would give you another chance to talk—I know some witch’s powers rely on their ability to speak. You’re only in the infirmary to treat your wounds. Now that you’re stable, we’ll be putting you into lockup—to deal with later,” Ghost explained darkly.


    Alexander could only manage a weak whine from behind the grip on his face. His silvery eyes darting around the room for anything, anyone, that might save him.


    This man was dangerous—very dangerous.


    “Dose!” Ghost barked, causing Alexander to jump and whine softly at the pain surging through his nerves.


    The curtain swept back with a snap to reveal the medic, cross-legged and barefoot in her office chair, one hand on the curtain—the other removing a bud from her ear with her first three fingers. A green sucker clutched between the knuckles of the other two. What sounded like epic metal blasted through the headphones.


    “Is the brat up already?” she arched an eyebrow. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, slipping into a pair of lime green crocs under her desk. She discarded the now paused phone and headphones next to her keyboard and popped the sucker back into her mouth. She sounded less surprised and more annoyed.


    Dose strolled over, snapping on a pair of blue nitrile gloves as she approached. “He shouldn’t be awake until morning,” she muttered, grabbing a wheeled cart with her supplies, dragging it with her. She stopped at Alexander’s side and checked his pulse on his good wrist before listening to his heart—which already felt like it was beating so hard that it might break through his ribcage. This didn’t seem to affect her assessment however.


    Dose turned back to her cart, preparing a needle. “I’ll put him under again, it should be safe,” she said blandly.


    Alexander panicked, adrenaline overpowering his pain as he flailed and strained against the bonds that held him. “MMNRPH!” he squirmed and twisted as she drew a few cc of some unknown drug. In a last ditch effort, Alexander snapped his head up as far as his neck would allow, giving him just enough room to snap his teeth down on Ghost’s hand.


    Ghost withdrew on impulse with a hiss. “Fuck!” he snapped, his hand quickly wrapping around Alexander’s throat.


    “I’m not a witch! Seriously! Please!” Alexander cried out.


    “Something any witch would say!” Ghost needled, now on his feet, the chair kicked to the side. He leaned in closely to Alexander, fingers carefully squeezing.


    “S-something any non-witch would say too!” Alexander quipped back, his voice breaking a little.


    “There are no witches here with ice powers!” Ghost growled back.


    Alexander ground his teeth. “Well how about this!? Ever hear of a witch with two powers? No? Because in my last town some kid who tried to stab me got fried by a random bolt of lightning! How about that!? Witches with two powers? Unbelievable! Lightning and ice!? And I had no idea!? Well fuck me sideways, I’ll put a bullet in my own head! How’s that for you!?” Alexander finally stopped, seething hard, glaring at Ghost. He was almost nose to nose with the man now, at least as far as the restraints would allow.


    Dose scoffed and set the needle down, “I think I’m starting to like the brat,” she mused. “Was that good enough for you, Commander?”


    “Hmph!” Ghost released Alexander’s throat and swept back his shaggy hair with his uninjured hand. “Good enough,” he parroted, straightening his chair.


    As the man re-took his seat, Alexander was left dazed and trembling, “W-wha?”


    “If you really were a witch,” Ghost began, “You would have attacked us out of a sense of self-preservation. As for your history—.” He withdrew his phone from his back pocket and began reading aloud, “Alexander Evans, age seventeen,” his gunmetal grey eyes flicked up to the boy in front of him before returning to the screen. “Resident of Vancouver, British Colombia, Canada. Guardian, Evan Evans…” Ghost paused at this, something unreadable crossing his face.


    “Don’t you dare make fun of her name,” Alexander growled dangerously.


    “I wasn’t going to,” Ghost replied, “It’s just an unusual one is all.”


    Alexander deliberately turned his head away, a sour taste in his mouth.


    Ghost continued reading. “Alexander Doe, found in Vancouver late December two-thousand-and-five by the Vancouver Police Department. No claimants came forward and the child was handed over to Child and Family Services for care by the province. Estimated year of birth, early two-thousand-and-four.


    Evans was expelled from the Vancouver District School Board in June of this year after an incident with another student during which another student was struck inexplicably by lightning on an otherwise sunny afternoon. Due to a previous case of an inexplicable electrical fire in which Evans was directly involved, he was expelled for concern that he might be a witch with electrical powers. Care to elaborate on that other incident further, or should I continue reading it all for you?”This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Alexander paled. “T-that information should be private, how do you know about it?"


    Ghost shrugged, “I guess you want me to keep going.”


    “No!” Alexander cried out. “No…” he said again after a moment, though much more meekly. “Please don’t bring that up…” he trembled. “I-I don’t want to talk about that…”


    Sonia glanced at Ghost who shook his head.


    Ghost drew in a breath and paused before speaking again. “Your teacher attacked you,” he said. “With scissors. Why?”


    “Doesn’t your infinite well of information tell you that too?” Alexander quipped bitterly.


    “I have access to the report from the child psychologist you spoke to then, but you never said much to begin with. Most of the report is from eyewitness testimonies and the school board’s reports—and a little bit of media. The police report from the interrogation of your teacher didn’t reveal anything either.”


    “Just who the hell are you people?” Alexander shook his head, shutting his eyes against the memories.


    “I want to hear it from you. Why did he attack you? How did that fire start?”


    Alexander vehemently shook his head. “I-I don’t know, okay!?” he coughed, trying to make himself as small as possible. “I don’t know… People just get mad at me for no reason. I’d rather not have a bunch of people with guns mad at me either… Please, I-I just want to go to school—Evan just wants me to graduate.”


    Tears streamed down his reddened cheeks. He sniffled, unable to wipe it away, unable to hide. “P-please, I beg you, don’t…” he sobbed softly. He flinched as something touched his face. Alexander hadn’t realized that he had squeezed his eyes shut.


    Ghost patted at the corner of Alexander’s eyes with a lavender handkerchief, a surprisingly gentle gesture given his interaction so far. “Alright,” he said, his voice tight. “I won’t ask anymore. Okay?”


    Dose rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. “Ghost, you’re too sensitive to the tears of children,” she scolded. She reached down, carefully undoing the restraints on her side of the bed, Ghost doing the same on his.


    When he reached again for Alexander’s neck, the boy flinched involuntarily. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I hope you can understand... Witches are extremely dangerous.”


    Alexander sniffled and bit his trembling lip. He nodded meekly before raising his chin, allowing Ghost access to the latch of the belt that held him. Once free, Alexander shakily drew his knees up to his chin, pressing up against the raised third of the bed. He pressed his forehead into his knees, curling into them to hide his face.


    Dose rolled her eyes and rounded the bed, dragging her cart behind her. She took up Ghost’s hand, muttering something to herself as she cleaned his wound with all the tenderness of a meat grinder.


    Ghost barely winced.


    “Get hurt again like that, Ghost, and I’ll kick your ass,” she growled, shoving him aside. “Shoo, I need to take a look at his arm again.”


    Shaking his head, Ghost stepped aside and moved around to the bed to take up her previously occupied space. However, he pulled the small hospital style table at the end of the bed with him. “Your things,” he stated, drawing back the cloth. “Your backpack and other bag made it just fine, but your luggage I’m afraid…” he gestured to the lump of molten plastic and charred contents.


    Alexander looked up from his knees and made a frustrated sound as he allowed Dose to take hold of his arm. “Just all of my clothes,” he frowned. “God, what am I going to tell Evan?” he muttered through his delicate fingers as he placed his hand over his mouth, staring long and hard at the luggage.


    “If it’s a financial issue—,” Ghost started.


    “I—uh, no, nothing like that—i-it’s fine,” Alexander interrupted quickly, his ears tinging red. An obvious lie.


    Next to him, Dose snorted in disbelief and began unwrapping the bandages. Alexander turned to look, but Ghost’s hand moved up to the side of his face to block the view and Alexander pulled away with a sharp gasp.


    “You don’t want to see that,” the man dissuaded.


    Alexander frowned, “I-I can handle it. I’ve been hurt before.”


    Ghost drew in a long breath through his nose, his steely gaze searching Alexander’s. “Really, it’s not something kids should see.”


    Alexander turned his head away from Ghost’s touch, his lips set into a tight frown. “I’m not some delicate child,” he muttered bitterly.


    “Commander,” Dose interrupted. “Light please,” she instructed flatly, tilting her head towards the wall and arching an eyebrow at him. There seemed to be more said between them, because Ghost shook his head and reached past Alexander to flick a switch at the head of the bed.


    Alexander followed his movement, and when a pot light above the bed showered them in a warm dim light, a doorway in the darkness Alexander couldn’t see before was also partially illuminated. He flinched, gasping softly as three figures barely became visible.


    “Don’t worry about them,” Ghost assured. “My companions were here to make we were safe if you did attack,” he explained. He turned to them, “Tech, go get some rest. Mother, if you could fill in Chief for me, I’ll join you once we’ve put Evans to bed. Eagle—.”


    The tallest of the three figures moved from the darkened hall into the door’s frame proper, casually leaning into it. One arm swept up behind his head, the other lazily draped across his waist, “I’ll stay for a bit, Commander. We don’t often get visitors, and certainly not sweet peaches like this one,” he teased musically, winking one of his piercing blue eyes at Alexander. Behind him, the other two had quietly vanished.


    Alexander turned his gaze away from the newcomer, attempting to catch a glimpse of what the doctor was doing. He could feel electricity arcing through his nerves every time she looped the bandage off his arm. Now that there was only a gauze pad left, he could see his entire forearm was red, ending only where a black band of ink snaked its way around his limb, both just below his elbow and halfway across the back of his hand.


    “W-what’s that?” he squawked.


    Ghost reached out again, this time not caring for Alexander’s flinch as he turned the boy’s face away from the wound. “I said not to look at it.”


    Alexander frowned at him, a flash of defiance to the other. “I have a right to know! It’s my body!”


    Somewhere behind him, Eagle whistled softly, impressed.


    Ghost glared at him, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He released Alexander’s chin and nodded to Dose.


    At this, the medic raised both of her eyebrows. “Alright then,” she mused, lifting the gauze.


    A small garbage pail landed in his lap and Alexander immediately threw up.


    He gripped the can with both hands, retching until there was nothing left. The pain in his arm caused by the sudden movement was no help in assuaging the sudden, violent wave of nausea.


    Dose reached over and picked up the glass of water, passing it off to Ghost.


    He was carefully rubbing Alexander’s back. “I told you so,” he muttered, now pressing the glass to the boy’s lips. “Rinse your mouth, and then drink slowly,” he coaxed.


    Dose reached out, taking Alexander’s arm back under her care. “Gutsy brat doesn’t know what’s good for him,” she muttered, setting to work. “This is gonna hurt,” she warned sharply.


    She wasn’t kidding. Alexander nearly choked on the water and almost threw up again as she began a second cleaning. He tried hard not to think about what she was doing with—that.


    He had only seen it for second to know, between the hand-shaped charred impression, blackened, boiled, and blistered skin—he was lucky to still have his arm at all. “A-am,” Alexander coughed, trying to to avoid more of the water, “Am I going to lose my arm?” he asked finally.


    The look between Dose and Ghost told him there was more to it.


    “Please,” he started quietly, “Just tell me, I’m already old enough, and I’m a-alone here. I-I…” he closed his eyes against the pain, “I have to take care of it by myself…” Fear clutched at his heart, gnawing away that small bubble of courage he was desperately holding onto to keep him afloat.


    “It’s up to the Commander to say,” Dose grunted, absolving herself of the responsibility as she turned back to her work.


    Ghost’s shoulders sagged. He shook his head and raked his hand through his hair once more. “You probably realize you’re lucky you didn’t lose your arm,” he began. “And while I don’t think you’re a witch—for now, I still suspect that whatever caused that ice shell that saved you probably also saved your arm—not to mention the rest of us.”


    Alexander lowered his gaze to his lap, trying very hard to not look at his right arm again. “I really don’t know anything about the ice,” he mumbled.


    Ghost set the glass of water in Alexander’s hand and moved the garbage can to the floor next to the bed. “I’ll believe you, for now. As for your wound, it’s a witch curse.”


    Alexander looked up at him in alarm. “I-is that even a thing!? I’ve never heard of that before!”


    Ghost shook his head again. “It’s very rare. Most people who acquire one don’t live more than a few hours at best,” he looked to Dose who only nodded, not looking up from her ministrations. She was already re-wrapping Alexander’s arm.


    “Is there a way to break it?” Alexander asked.


    “Kill the witch, or die,” Dose answered.


    Alexander shrank where he sat.


    Ghost put his hand on Alexander’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’re professionals. This one’s just giving us a bit of extra trouble, but we’ll get him in the end.”


    “Before or after I become a carbon crispy?” Alexander muttered into the glass, eliciting a snicker from Dose. Alexander heaved a sigh. He knew it would happen sooner or later. At least Evan didn’t have to see him suffer in person. “Have you talked to my guardian yet?”


    “Not yet,” Ghost replied.


    His bandages redone, Alexander curled up, hugging his knees again as Dose dragged her cart off to its place in her office. “I would rather you didn’t,” he said finally.


    Ghost raised both of his eyebrows at this. “Really? Wouldn’t it be better for her to know what’s happening?”


    Alexander made a pitiful face, lips trembling as he forced a sad smile, “I don’t want to worry her anymore. She’s already done so much for me. And… and if it gets handled, then it’ll all be in the past, right?” He let out a meek laugh, “Once things happen, they’re already over and it can’t be changed—you can only move forward… That’s what she taught me.”


    A smile tugged at the corners of Ghost’s mouth, “She sounds like a great person,” he said softly. Dose came back to the bedside and wordlessly handed him a pill before returning to her desk. “Take this, please,” he instructed, holding it out for Alexander. Unlike before, this wasn’t a command but more of a persuasive request.


    Alexander hesitantly accepted the medicine, gnawing at his bottom lip as he inspected it uncertainly. He looked up at Ghost, looking a bit sick. “D-do I have to?”


    “Yes.”


    Trembling, Alexander brought the pill to his lips, but couldn’t seem to go through with it.


    Ghost watched him, noting his reluctance. “It’s a sleep aide, and a pain killer. It’s not poison, I assure you,” he said finally.


    Alexander took a shaky breath. “J-just how much more do you know about me?” he asked.


    “Enough to know why you’re not taking that pill,” Ghost explained. He took the capsule from Alexander’s shaking hand and pressed it to the boy’s lips for him. “I promise,” he continued gently, “We’ll do our best to save you. What would be the point in poisoning you now?” He chuckled, “Besides, Dose would fillet me for wasting her efforts.”


    “You know it,” the medic grunted from her workstation.


    Eying Ghost with uncertainty, Alexander slowly opened his mouth, allowing the pill to slip inside—gaze searching the man as though he were carefully watching him for any sign of deception. Once it was in, however, he cast his eyes down and took a trembling sip of water, swallowing.


    “Good boy,” Ghost reassured, reaching for Alexander’s head, but the boy withdrew from him sharply, fearfully.


    “D-don’t… Please d-don’t touch my hair…” Alexander murmured.


    A wave a sympathy washed over Ghost’s face. “Alright, I’ll try to remember,” he said, carefully lowering his hand to Alexander’s shoulder. He reached back, lowering the bed back to a horizontal position. “Now, lie down, and try to get some sleep. I’ll have someone take you to the school first thing in the morning.”


    Alexander hesitantly obeyed, curling over onto his good side, still watching Ghost warily. It was only once he way lying down, that he realized just how tired he actually was. “I-I’m going to Cranberry…” he murmured, rubbing at his eyes with his bandaged hand—the pain was already starting to sink into that drugged haze. “But you probably knew that…” he mumbled, slowly drifting.


    Ghost reached under the bed and retrieved an extra pillow, setting it into Alexander’s arms, watching as the boy unconsciously curled around it. Once he was certain Alexander was out, he pulled a thin blanket over him and sighed. “Eagle, is there anything for dinner?” he asked.


    At this, the other man smiled, a teasing foxy sort of look. “Of course, boss. It’s going to be pretty simple tonight, just sandwiches. I didn’t know when everyone would be ready.”


    Ghost reached out and stroked Alexander’s hair very gently, causing him to stir and make a soft fearful noise. “I will take dinner with Chief and Mother in the boardroom,” he said finally, striding out past the other.


    “You coming, grump?” Eagle asked.


    “Not interested,” Dose grunted.


    “Even if I make you some French toast?”


    Dose immediately put her computer into sleep mode and stood up. “I guess I could join you,” she grunted.


    “You’ll get fat, you know,” Eagle teased, receiving a light punch to his gut as she passed him. He grinned and then moved to Alexander’s side, holding his hands behind his back as he leaned over, inspecting the sleeping boy’s face closely. “Mmn, very pretty,” he mused before skipping off after his companion.