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All my lies are always wishes, I know I would die if I could come back new - Wilco, Ashes of American Flags

Five hours they waited for any news. From a distance they watched as Michael was wheeled off into the X-Ray department. Liz kept switching positions. At one moment, she was sitting with her legs crossed in front of her, and at the next she sat with her head on North's shoulder and her feet up over the armrest of the chair next to hers, her discarded shoes on the floor beneath her. There was no one else in the waiting room except them. North remarked offhandedly how it seemed like a scene from The Omega Man. This elicited a chuckle from the already exhausted Elizabeth. Rummaging through her mind, she tried to arrange her feelings into tiny little slots that sort of made sense. Did she truly fall for Michael? Did he even feel the same way about her? Of course he didn't, she thought and clicked her tongue in exasperation, he knew her for maybe two hours. The feeling of his talons running themselves over the small of her back remained etched into her mind, pins and needles descending down her spine whenever she thought of it. Distant lights drifted apart as her eyes began to shut. At some point, she fell asleep, her dreams empty and dark. When she awoke, she immediately glanced to the clock that stood on the far side of the waiting room. One thirty in the morning. North was fast asleep beside her. Groaning, she lifted herself up, put her shoes on and went outside. The air was stifling and hot. Until now she didn't even know how hot it got at night in Arizona. Her crumpled shirt stuck to the fur on her back. Looking up into the night sky, she couldn't see a single star, not even one. The lights from the street drowned out the starshine, thin and airy clouds pulling themselves up over the moon. Standing on her toes, she cracked her spine. With her claw she loosened her tie and collar and leaned against a pillar that stood by the ER entrance. The glass doors to her left slid apart, revealing a tired-looking Dr. Hampton in a leather jacket and jeans.

"Oh, Ms. Hunter, you're still here. Luckily you've run into me and not one of the nightlies." He said, the surprise in his voice palpable "I've just looked over your friend's x-rays. Everything's fine. Nothing's broken. We'll let him home in half an hour or so." Pausing by the ashtray, he took out a pack of Lucky Strikes and lit one, exhaling the smoke with a hearty sigh.

"A smoking doctor. Colour me surprised." Liz replied absentmindedly "I'm glad to hear he's fine. Worry was eating me up from the inside. I don't know what I'd do if you kept him overnight." What made her say those things? It was true, sure enough, but did Hampton really need to know about it? Then again, there wasn't anyone else to overhear them talking so she figured she might as well tell him how she felt.

"Heh, young love." Hampton said to himself and took another drag on his cigarette "Don't try and deny it. I know you will. But you've got 'in love' written all over. You should have seen your face when you asked me how he was. Quite the shocker, really, considering that your plus one just sat there, playing games on his phone."

Liz developed a blush in record time. He struck a nerve, and a big one at it too. She turned away from him and stared into the night sky, still trying to find a star, a single goddamn star just to take her mind off the obvious. "Listen to me: I know it sounds bad. I know he probably doesn't know yet. But in time, he will." The voice to her side said and moved closer to her, a hand suddenly appearing in front of her, a white card sticking out between its fingers "Here's my card. I'm new in town and don't have a lot of acquaintances. Maybe if you're up for it, me, you, and your friend could grab a drink or something. I don't want anything from you, just a promise you'll call even once, even if it's just to say that I'm a creep or something." Turning back to him, she took the card from him and stuffed it into her pocket. It seemed that she met new people wherever she went. Hampton turned around and began to walk away. Suddenly he stopped and turned towards her.

"Also, he woke up for a minute or so half an hour ago. Your nickname wouldn't happen to be Liz, would it?" And then like an apparition, he vanished into the darkness of the parking lot, his soft chuckle penetrating the silence of a city gone to sleep.

***

Thirty-five minutes later they were driving out of the hospital with a partially conscious Michael in the passenger seat, his face pressed up against Liz's shoulder.. He was obviously out of his skull on painkillers. Liz held a bag with three yellow pill bottles in her lap, North seated to her left, his eyes locked on the road. Another problem presented itself. How would they get Michael into the house? Liz already decided that she'd let him have her bed. She'd take the sofa downstairs. After all, the nurse prescribed at least four days of rest in a dark room and constant care. North already agreed to take care of everything while Liz was at work but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd get no work done as long as Michael was in the state he was in now. They pulled into the driveway and North carried Michael into the house on his arms. Liz almost blurted out that it looked like Michelangelo's Pietà. She opened the door for the door for the duo and locked it behind them. As carefully as possible, North carried Michael upstairs. Her room seemed like paradise right now, considering how tired she was. But she quickly reminded herself that she wouldn't be able to sleep in it. Liz drew the curtains over the window as North set their patient down on the bed. Michael didn't move even once the whole way home.

"I'll take care of the rest. Go get some sleep." North said and Liz nodded, backing out of the room and shutting the door softly. Walking back downstairs, she unplugged the cable that caused Michael to fall and folded it up. The Xbox was still on. They left so quickly that they had no time to turn it off. The TV turned itself off with a beep. Liz lay down on the couch without even bothering to change and fell asleep. The whole night she tossed and turned, not being able to find a comfortable position in which to sleep. It was four in the morning when she woke and lit a cigar. Nervously she paced up and down the living room, in and out of the kitchen and past the window that looked out into the yard. She sat down on the couch and removed her skirt, deciding that it was too hot to be this overdressed. Besides, North was probably sleeping so no one would see her shuffling through the dark house in her underwear. Michael was upstairs, hopefully asleep, hopefully feeling better. It took every ounce of self-control on her part not to go upstairs and fall asleep beside him. The sun rose at five in the morning, light penetrating the living room window, long shadows forming beneath the coffee table. For an hour or so she sat on the sofa, watching the TV on mute. Her stomach growled impatiently. Barely thinking, she walked up the stairs and entered her bedroom. Michael slept on his back, snoring softly. North had helped him change, obviously, which was more than Liz could say for herself. With an armful of clothes she locked herself into the bathroom and took a shower. Having nothing better to do she decided to go to the local convenience store and get some proper breakfast. She decided to change a couple of things last night. She was going to regularly buy real food, food that needed preparation and cooking. No more living on cheap Chinese take-out and fast food. North was already awake when she came back home. He was in the kitchen, drinking Coca Cola and reading the morning paper.

"How is he?" Liz asked, setting the two grocery bags down on the counter "I hope I didn't wake him when I went to fetch my clothes."

"He's sleeping like a deadman. I haven't heard him move until 20 minutes ago." North replied "I'll go give him his painkillers in 10. When are you leaving for work?"

Hopefully never, Liz thought to herself. "In the next hour, why?" She asked and cracked an egg on the side of the frying pan "Can you help me with this? You can finish making breakfast while I go and give Michael his pill. You know how to fry an egg, right?" One of Liz's eyebrows raised itself up slightly when she saw that the feline dropped his magazine and approached the pan with unmatched enthusiasm. Slightly sceptical, Liz scaled the steps and entered the bedroom. Michael was on his back with one of his hands on his forehead, moaning in pain. The room was wholly dark, the curtains blocking out any reminder that it was day outside. Small shafts of light penetrated the top of the curtains but besides that, it might as well have been the middle of the night. Liz popped a pill bottle open and shook two out onto her palm. She sat down on the bed beside the incapacitated Michael and tapped his arm. He stirred slightly and raised his eyes. His sleeping form rocket back and forth as he coughed drily.

"Oh, its you." He said, his voice raspy and exhausted "Fuck my head hurts. I hope to high heaven that those are painkillers."

"They are. Do you need some water?" Liz asked, passing the painkillers to Michael. He didn't reply. Instead he simply swallowed loudly and turned away from Liz and stared at the wall. She wanted to rub his side, to run her fingers through the feathers on his head, to say anything that might have any meaning at all. But instead, words failed her completely and she simply whispered a watered-down goodbye as she shut the door behind herself.

Half an hour later she was in the car, driving to work with an empty stomach and a head full of words unspoken. So many things she wanted to tell him. But none of them made their way past her lips and into the coldness of the real world where they would be irretractable. Trying to clear her head, she checked her watch and found out that she was some 10 minutes late. Shrugging it off, she pulled into the parking lot and parked in her usual spot, wrestling her ID card as it dangled from side to side. Making the employees carry these around their necks was the dumbest idea of the century. Not only did the damn things catch on everything from doorknobs to car doors, they also... Shit, she thought to herself when she saw that her tank was almost empty. Hopefully there would be enough juice in the tank for her to reach the nearest gas station. Exiting the car she slammed the door shut and paced briskly to the entrance. The air outside was stiflingly hot, a scalding breeze blowing through the hedges that surrounded the parking lot. The noise of hundreds of air conditioners working at once penetrated the air, sounding more like a flock of angry locusts than anything else. Some moron on a cellphone was slowly walking out of the building, triumphantly blocking both doors. She pushed herself through, making the man utter an unintelligible line of profanity. Liz didn't care. She was late again and if her boss saw her she'd be fucked beyond all reason. Instead of stopping to chat with the receptionist like she did most days she just flashed her card and fast-walked through the lobby. She barely caught an elevator in time, one of her arms flying up and into the crack between the closing doors. The other passengers in the elevator, a bashful-looking secretary and a bored stenographer, gave her dirty looks. Liz paid them no notice and instead simply rocked back and forth on her toes, checking her wristwatch every now and again. No matter how hard she started, she couldn't make the minute hand turn in the opposite direction. It continued forward, undeterred by the snow leopard's stares.

Liz tired her hardest to stare at her shoes and avoid any gazes that might come her way. Sitting down on her desk she launched a pen across it using her thumb and turned her computer on. Being crafty as she was, she opened three or four random documents and began typing away into an Excel cell, erasing a number and then putting it back in again. Putting on her best 'I'm concentrated, go away' face, she repeated the process for three more cells and opened an actual document that needed editing. For the next half hour she worked as hard as she could, not even taking her usual break to get some coffee and shoot some shit with the hourlies by the water cooler. Just as she was about to finish up this round of spreadsheets, her boss walked into her cubicle. LIz immediately turned around and stood up to face him. A tall cheetah stood in front of her, a name tag on his lapel reading "Kingsley Ritter". The man in question really was Ritter and not just someone who stole a name tag, a ruthless thirty-six-year-old social recluse with no actual friends who came into his element in the world of business. Now he was the department manager for a not-so-small investment firm in Phoenix, AZ. Any normal man would have been elated at the prospects of such a development, but Ritter seemed to become increasingly more alienated from his co-workers. He frequented the office floor rarely and when he did, you just knew it meant trouble.

"Hunter, is it?" He asked disdainfully, eyeing Elizabeth from an angle "You're late. Again." She began to fumble with one of the buttons on her suit but it ended up coming loose in her paw. Clutching the button, she looked up to face her boss "My friend Michael has a concussion and I had to..." At that point, Ritter interrupted her "I don't give a shit. My files say that you've been late a lot and so far, all the work you've done comes out as mediocre at best. You're fired."

That phrase, that phrase that she had been dreading for weeks now. "You're fired." It finally hit its mark and delivered its payload. Liz just opened and closed her mouth, words completely failing her. A cold sweat ran down her back. Her legs felt numb. She had just been eviscerated, shot, and burned alive. Meanwhile, Ritter kept up a smug smile on his face. A smile which said "I win, you lose. Chalk up another victory to the American Dream." And then he just left. Just like that, he turned and left, the smug little shit. One of Elizabeth's paws crumpled into a fist but she restrained herself. 'More pills' is all she managed to think of. More pills until she could feel her legs again.

Her mind was completely blank. Utterly and fully blank. Not a single thought managed to push itself past the barrier she had erected in a hurry, lest she do something drastic. She hadn't even considered the possibility of getting fired and thus, she hadn't even thought about what to say to Michael and North. Would they understand? Would they even care? Still, the wall remained whole and impenetrable. Silent and expressionless, she gave up her card at the front desk, smiled a weak smile at the receptionist, put the box containing her personal effects into the back seat, and sat in the driver's seat.

Elizabeth cried all the way home.