Fear came next. What had they done to him? The arm sprawled over his chest and the warmth pressed against his side assured him he lived and 46 remained close. Things couldn’t be too bad if she hadn’t been taken from him. The technicians did that often to punish him and he worried every time that she’d never be returned.

He couldn’t remember what he’d done to draw their anger. His mind blanked. It alarmed him more. How badly have they damaged me? What drugs are they testing this time? He couldn’t move, speak, or even use his nose to assist him, to put clues together to determine his situation by scent.

Trapped inside my own body. It terrified him and he hated the helplessness that nearly drew him to panic. It was the worst thing they could do to him. He pushed emotions back, focused on his breathing, and was able to finally hold his breath for a few seconds. It was something. He’d just have to fight past whatever new test drug they’d forced into his body. He’d done it before and he wouldn’t allow them to win. 46 needed his protection. He meant to keep his promise to do anything to prevent the technicians from harming her again.

The hand on his chest moved, languidly stroking his skin as her body pressed tighter against his. She seemed to stretch. Something wasn’t right but he just couldn’t figure out what. Her fingers dug into his muscles a tiny bit, a soft sigh sounded, and hair tickled the top of his shoulder when she adjusted next to him.

“You made it.”

The female’s voice was soft, unknown, and if he could have, he’d have jerked away from her. She had slept curled against his side with her hand on his chest. Where is 46? Who is this female? Why has she been put in my living space?

Gentle fingers slid up his chest to his neck, pressed along his artery and paused. The pressure eased and the mattress under them shifted just slightly as she changed position. Metal scraped, her heat withdrew from his side and a draft of chilly air took her place. A blanket settled down and she pressed them tightly against his skin. A light caress breezed over his cheek.

“Your pulse is steady. I was so worried you wouldn’t do well off the machines but you seem to be doing fine. Now I need to give you a sponge bath. I’ll change your bag before I reinsert the feeding tube. I’m sorry but I need to do it until you’re well enough to eat on your own. I should have reestablished it last night but I figured you had suffered enough trauma being moved.”

Confusion filled him and nothing she said made sense. He struggled to move, to open his eyes, but was unable to do so.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to take a quick shower while the coffeemaker does its magic.” The caress on his cheek stopped and he felt a slight tug on his hair as she seemed to manipulate it. “I’m a bear without coffee. That’s a secret. Most people don’t want to hear that I’m addicted to caffeine but it’s the only way I survived my residency. They really put you through the wringer.” The blanket moved by his chin, tucked tighter, and she petted his chest through the layers of covering. “I’ll hurry. I’m just in the other room, okay? The only bathroom is down here. I’ll even leave the door open. I know you aren’t going to wake that quickly but I can always hope.”

She stopped touching him but he heard movement not too far away. Water ran. A package rustled. He wished he had a keener sense of smell but his nose didn’t seem to work right. Silence followed until louder water came on, something squeaked and then clicked. The water noise became slightly muffled.

880 struggled to regain use of his body. He was alone, according to the unknown female, and her words made enough sense that he worried she was a technician. Why would one of them sleep at my side? What game are they playing? Is it another of their twisted games to see how I react? He could feel the weight of something on his wrists and ankles, more aware of his body as time passed. They’d restrained him flat by his limbs. He needed to gain control fast.

The water stopped too soon. He hadn’t made headway with his body, but he’d moved his tongue. It was sluggish but he’d been able to feel the roof of his mouth. One pinky finger twitched. The drug was slowly wearing off. His body would shake the effects of it but it would take time, something he wasn’t sure he had to spare. She said she wanted to hook him to a machine. The squeak sounded again and she sighed softly while rustling around.

“Okay,” she called out. “I’m dressed and now about to pour myself a cup of coffee. I’m going to heat up some water too and we’ll get you clean.” She paused. “Shit. I just realized I’m going to have to strip you down. I’m really sorry about that but it needs to be done. No one wants to be dirty. I’ll be more embarrassed than you. Trust me on that. It’s the one thing that still kind of gets to me. I hated clinic hours when I’d have to look at men’s penises. Let me tell you that it wasn’t always pretty.” She snorted. “Of course that time in the emergency room should have earned me an Emmy for acting as though it was normal for a guy to come in with his dick stuck inside a pipe.”

He listened, unable to do anything else, as she moved around. Her talk of dicks stunned him slightly. She owned a pleasant voice, though, that didn’t grate on his nerves.

“He came up with the lamest excuse ever, as though anyone would believe it accidentally happened. He didn’t trip na**d and land on the damn thing. He was a pervert—one with his penis really wedged inside that pipe.” She laughed. “He should have at least used lube.” She came closer. “You should have heard him scream when I had to, well, you don’t want to know where I had to insert a needle. You’d hate hearing about that procedure. I’m the one who had to do it and I still cringe.”