Chapter 190: Two Days Later

Two days later, Luke sat on the edge of an examination table and tried not to move his right hand. Dr. Shaw noticed anyway.

"You’re doing it again."

Luke stopped flexing his smallest finger. "I wasn’t doing anything."

Shaw looked up from the tablet in his hands. Lauren, seated beside the wall, made a quiet sound that was suspiciously close to a laugh.

Luke glanced toward her. "You don’t have to enjoy this."

Lauren only smiled and crossed one leg over the other. Around them, the neurological clinic looked exactly as Luke remembered it. White walls, too-bright lights, equipment he couldn’t identify, and enough screens to make him feel as though someone might discover a new problem simply because they kept looking.

The past two days had dragged. Luke had checked his hand far more often than Shaw would approve of, watching for any sign that the slow improvement might suddenly stop. It hadn’t. The smallest finger on his right hand now responded almost normally unless he was tired. The next one had become noticeably easier to control, while the remaining fingers still lagged whenever he tried moving them independently.

Shaw set down the tablet. "Smallest finger first."

Luke curled it toward his palm and straightened it again. The movement hesitated only slightly.

"Again."

Luke repeated it, and Shaw moved on. "Second."

That one resisted more. It bent halfway before slowing, as though the signal had become caught somewhere between his brain and hand. Luke concentrated until the finger finally completed the movement.

Shaw made a note. "Middle."

The response came later than the others, and Luke immediately tried to force the finger farther. Shaw caught the effort at once.

"Stop."

Luke relaxed his hand reluctantly. "I want it to work."

"It is working."

"Not properly."

"Better than last time."

Luke remembered when several of those fingers had barely seemed connected to what he wanted them to do. Compared with that, today’s movements were obvious progress, but knowing that did little for his patience.

Shaw supported Luke’s wrist beneath the brace and tested sensation across his fingers, palm, wrist, and forearm. There had been no new numbness, no return of the cold sensation or pulling beneath his skin, and no sudden weakness. The only pain left was a dull ache when he used the hand for too long.

When that examination finished, Shaw moved to the monitor beside the table. "Now the part you actually care about."

Luke straightened while Lauren leaned forward. Shaw attached several sensors along Luke’s wrist and forearm, then another near his shoulder. Lines and numbers filled the nearby screen.

"Don’t move."

A faint pulse traveled through one sensor. Luke’s fingers twitched, then several more pulses followed while Shaw watched the readings. Luke lasted almost twenty seconds before impatience won.

"Well?"

Shaw kept reading.

Luke took the hint.

After another moment, Shaw scrolled to a different set of results. "The abnormal residue is still present."

Some of the warmth disappeared from Lauren’s expression. "Still inactive?"

"Yes. No change in position, no measurable expansion, no renewed activity, and nothing resembling the response before Route Nine closed."

Luke stared at the image. Whatever the Ruinborn connection had left inside his awakened pathways was still there. The doctors could detect it, but they still couldn’t explain exactly what it was or guarantee it would never become active again.

"Can it start again?"

Shaw met his eyes. "I don’t know."

Luke hated how familiar that answer had become.

"The neurological recovery itself is going in the right direction," Shaw continued. "Peripheral response has improved. Sensory delay is lower. Smallest finger is close to baseline. The second is significantly better."

"And the others?"

"Improving."

Luke waited.

Shaw looked at him. "Still not normal."

Luke glanced down at his hand. "So what changes?"

"Light daily use is fine. More of it, actually. You’re protecting the hand too much."

Lauren immediately looked at Luke.

He noticed. "Don’t."

"You carry almost everything with your left hand."

"Because every time I touch something with the right, you look at me like I’m committing a crime."

"I look at you like that when you reach for boxes."

Shaw removed another sensor. "Use the hand. Don’t load it."

Lauren gave Luke a satisfied look, but at least she didn’t say anything.

He turned back to Shaw. "Abilities?"

"No Reinforce through the affected arm. No Arcane Thrust. No Quickstep yet. Lifeblade stays emergency only."

Luke had expected all four answers. There was one question left.

"And Powerforge?"

Shaw picked up his tablet. "One supervised dive."

Luke stared at him.

Shaw looked up. "That expression is exactly why it’s supervised."

Luke couldn’t stop grinning. "Tomorrow?"

"If the Bureau has an open slot."

The return would happen under full neurological monitoring. Cold, pulling, numbness, unusual pain, weakness, visual disturbance, or anything resembling what happened before meant immediate disconnection.

Luke agreed before Shaw finished the list.

Lauren folded her arms. "And Reinforce inside the game?"

Luke looked at her. "What about it?"

Her expression didn’t change.

He sighed. "Fine. I won’t touch it."

"Better."

Luke had missed Powerforge more than he realized. His class, his skills, the danger of walking into places that shouldn’t exist, all of it had been sitting at the back of his mind while he recovered.

Tomorrow, some part of that life would finally come back.

Lauren stood and moved closer to Shaw’s desk. "What about normal activity?"

Luke glanced toward her.

Shaw answered without looking up. "Light hand use is fine. Moderate physical activity is acceptable if symptoms stay stable."

Lauren’s attention sharpened.

"And the arm?"

"No heavy loading, no strength training, no sudden high-force movement, and don’t brace significant weight through the wrist."

Luke looked between them.

Lauren nodded once. "All right."

Shaw finally looked up. His gaze moved from her to Luke, then back again.

"He can live normally. If something causes pain, numbness, weakness, cold, or anything else neurological, he stops."

Lauren’s mouth curved slightly. "Perfect."

Luke felt heat creep up his neck.

Two days.

He remembered Lauren leaning close after their kiss and whispering those words into his ear when he told her how long remained until the review.

Shaw watched both of them for a second too long.

"I don’t want context."

Lauren smiled. "Nobody offered any."

"Keep it that way."

He handed Luke the printed restrictions and dismissed them.

They barely reached the elevator before Luke looked at Lauren. "You planned that."

Lauren pressed the call button. "Planned what?"

"All those questions."

The doors opened. She stepped inside without answering, and Luke followed.

When the doors closed, Lauren moved close enough for their shoulders to touch.

"Moderate activity," she said.

Luke stared at her.

That was all she said.

She didn’t need more.

Luke felt his face heating anyway, which only made Lauren’s smile worse.

"I hate you."

"No, you don’t."

That one came out so easily that Luke almost laughed.

The elevator started downward. Lauren watched the floor numbers above the door, apparently satisfied with herself.

Luke tightened his fingers around her hand.

She looked down.

Then he stepped closer.

Lauren’s smile faded slightly.

He remembered the conversations from the past several nights. She had told him what she wanted, then left him with the uncomfortable part. Acting on it.

Luke still had no idea what he was doing. That hadn’t changed.

He moved closer anyway.

Lauren’s back reached the elevator wall, and her eyes lifted to his. Luke leaned toward her, close enough to feel her breath, before noticing the camera in the corner.

He glanced up.

Lauren followed his eyes and laughed.

"Of course."

"Yeah."

The elevator chimed before either of them moved.

Luke took her hand again as the doors opened. Lauren followed him out without teasing him once.

That somehow made it worse.

The rest of the afternoon passed far too slowly. Lauren had arranged for the staff to cover the café during the appointment, but there were still several hours left before closing. Luke helped where he could while following Shaw’s restrictions, though concentrating became increasingly difficult whenever Lauren passed close to him.

She behaved as if nothing had happened.

That annoyed him more than the teasing would have.

Lauren served customers, checked inventory, spoke with employees, and moved behind the counter like she hadn’t spent the elevator ride pressed against him. At one point, she bent to retrieve something from a lower cabinet, and Luke’s attention dropped immediately.

Lauren straightened.

Their eyes met.

Normally, Luke would have snapped his gaze somewhere safe and pretended he had been studying the floor.

This time, he didn’t.

Lauren stared at him for a second, then turned back toward the counter.

Luke almost smiled.

After that, he stopped hiding every time his attention wandered toward her. He didn’t make a show of it, especially with customers around, but he stopped acting embarrassed whenever she caught him.

Lauren noticed.

Near the end of the afternoon, she brought him a glass of water while he sorted receipts beside the register. She set it beside his left hand and lingered.

"You’ve been quiet."

Luke looked up.

Lauren waited.

He let his gaze settle on her mouth for a moment before meeting her eyes again.

Whatever she had expected him to say disappeared from her face.

One of the employees called her name from the kitchen.

Lauren blinked. "Coming."

She walked away before Luke could enjoy that victory for long, though not before he noticed the color high on her cheeks.

He took a drink of water and returned to the receipts, feeling far too pleased with himself.

By closing, Lauren’s calm had developed several cracks. One employee said good night, and she answered too quickly. Another asked whether she wanted help carrying a box upstairs.

"No."

Luke and the employee both looked at her.

Lauren cleared her throat. "Leave it downstairs."

The employee shrugged and headed out.

When the door finally locked behind the last member of staff, silence settled over the café. Lauren checked the lock once, then stood with her hand still resting near it.

Luke watched her from beside the counter.

She turned.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved.

Earlier in their relationship, Luke would have filled that silence immediately. Asked if she wanted tea. Asked if she was tired. Asked whether they should go upstairs. Anything that let her decide what happened next.

Lauren reached for the light switch.

Luke crossed the space between them before she touched it.

He caught her left hand.

Lauren looked down at their fingers, then back up at him.

Luke’s mouth had gone dry again.

"You said you didn’t want to write the whole script."

Something shifted in Lauren’s face.

"I didn’t."

Luke stepped closer, still holding her hand.

For once, he didn’t have another question ready.

"I was listening."