Sveta emerged from the locker room, looked around, and saw us. She wore a dress that was a riot of color, black leggings, and her patchwork, ankle-length coat. She was shorter than me, the top of her head coming up to my nose.

And she was smiling.

He handed me back my notebook. “Appointment in two days.”

“I’ll try,” I said.

He gave me a look.

“Thank you for this,” I told him. “This talk.”

He left as Sveta approached. There was a moment where it was just me, leaning against the window that overlooked the physio space.

Sveta hugged me, and I hugged her back.

“I’m discovering new muscles through the pain they’re giving me,” she said. “Verdict is pretty good.”

“Good,” I said.

“I might be too sore to walk. Carry me?”

“My arms are too sore. I think you’re going to have to limp along on your own. But you can lean on me.”

“I’d do that even if I could walk perfectly,” she said, turning the hug into a half-hug. Her hand and part of her leg beneath her dress broke apart into a morass of tape-like bands that, after a few false starts, picked up my bag and coat, passing them to my hand.

⊙

It was a wet kind of winter day, rain coming down and forming near-immediate ice that broke at the slightest provocation, so many of our hoods were up, our coats fastened up to the highest points.

It was a strange mix, because we were all at different stages in our costume. I had my coat, which was one costume element, Sveta had nothing. Ashley had her costume, but it was covered up by a coat that wasn’t part of the design or aesthetic, she carried an umbrella, and beneath the shadow of that umbrella, white eyes rimmed with black smoked with the effect of Kenzie’s projection lenses.

Tristan was wearing his bodysuit beneath clothing and coat, but wasn’t wearing his armor, Rain had his mask on but was otherwise civilian…

Short of a designated safe zone where we could pull stuff on, there really wasn’t a good way to organize, orchestrate, and be costumed at the exact right place and exact right time.

“How was physio?” Tristan asked.

“Wonderful,” Sveta said.

“My therapist and physiotherapist are coordinating to chew me out on skipping appointments,” I said. “But I talked to Darnall, and it was a good talk. How are you guys doing?”

The response wasn’t immediate or easy. A few glances were exchanged.

“Pretty shitty,” Tristan said. “Sorry to be a downer.”

Sveta nodded. “I get it. I get… facing the fact we might not win this.”

“You know me. I’m the kind of guy who likes to win, so I’m not going to call it quits just yet.”

“Yeah,” Sveta said, giving him an uneasy smile, like she was really trying, but it was hard.