Wildwing had explicitly told him to leave the double alone. That much Nosedive would concede to. His older brother had failed to mention anything, however, about the duck Winterwing had brought in with him; the last remaining survivor of the mysterious infection. It had been Grin’s turn to stand with Tanya, and Nosedive had invited himself for absolutely no good reason. Grin would not turn him away.

Grin ushered Tanya out, surveyed the room, and immediately fetched sterilization supplies. Whoever had cleaned before had done a decent job making the medbay serviceable, but all it took was a quick shine of an ultraviolet light to see everything that had been missed. Nosedive had shut it off and immediately regretted his decision to tag along.

Horror movies were fine, it was all fake blood made of food coloring or extremely primitive graphics. So fake, it was fun. Being presented with an actual scene of torment was sobering, and not only did he lose his previous aim at mischievousness, he was ashamed of himself, and just a little nauseous.

Grin handed him some of the supplies and wordlessly set about the task of quietly wiping down the medicom next to their last patient, with the meticulousness and solemnity of someone familiar with death. Nosedive tried to follow suit, turning attention to the floor, where a strange black film streaked the steel tiles.

They worked in silence, and he lost track of time.

They were interrupted by a startled sound from the occupied bed, and for a terrible moment he thought they were going to have to bear witness to something he had not planned for.

She sat up, startled, staring at Grin, who had been working at a stain on the wall near the head of her bed.

“Mother of fucks,” she exclaimed, “you’re built like a suspension bridge!”

Grin tilted his head to the side, considering. “I have not heard it expressed quite that way before.”

“I imagine you hear quite a lot,” she tried wipe fatigue from her eyes, and stopped to frown at bandaged hands. “Where is Tanya?”

“Tanya might be in a hall somewhere between here and her bunk, sleeping on her feet,” Nosedive said, looking towards the doorway. “Maybe I should have checked. We could call her?”

She was eyeing him strangely when he turned back around, with the sort of suspicion one gives toa forgotten name. She seemed to realize herself and quickly looked away. “No, that’s fine,” she said. “I’ve slept through most of this and she hasn’t.”

“Perhaps we could render assistance,” Grin offered, setting down his supplies carefully, discarding into the bio-hazard waste what he could.

“Assistance,” she repeated, doubtfully.

“Oh sure,” Nosedive said, “you’re looking at the team morale officer.”

Grin made a noise.

“And spiritual councilor,” Nosedive acknowledged him.

“I admit a lack of enthusiasm for both these things,” she said. “Is this an elected office you hold or is there a board somewhere I can complain to?”

Nosedive blinked, and she leaned forward, smirking, waiting for his response. He had not known what he was expecting, but on top of the list was certainly not friendly banter.

“What I can tell you is if you think you are stealing my position, you are sorely underestimating how dirty I am willing to play,” he said.

“Hmm, tempting, what are the benefits?”

“A wide collection of whimsical props that are only good once, and fairly decent catered meals.”

“And you?” she rested a chin on a bandaged palm, raising an eyebrow at Grin. “What does spiritual councilor grant you?”

“Ceaseless concern and infinite vision,” Grin shook his head, perhaps not finding their jest as amusing.

“These are both very lucrative positions,” she nodded, maybe chuckled, and started coughing, ending in a wince. “Ow.”

Which served to suck the rest of the fun out of it. “We could call Tanya, it’s been a couple hours. She probably wouldn’t mind,” Nosedive offered again.

“No,” she said more firmly, and looked at him again with a raised eyebrow, that implied a question that she did not speak aloud.

“What?” he prompted.

“Hmm,” she said by way of acknowledgment. She stretched in her spot on the medical scanner, winced at some pain point, and looked wearily about her. “What are you doing here?”

“I mean, I thought-”

Grin tried his best to intervene. “It was my turn to assist Tanya.”

“No,” the patient said, without turning her intense gaze. Her blue eyes were unsettling and strange, little flickering pinpoints of light in the gloomy room.“That’s why you are here, that doesn’t explain him.

“I have seen lot of things that make very little sense,” she continued. “that’s how it’s been, for a while. I saw a city burn and then everything was fine, like it never happened. Except that’s not quite right. It was more like I never happened. There was someone else living in my apartment. She looked just like me but her name was just slightly wrong,” she paused to think about this. “I never told anyone that, but you probably understand.”

Nosedive blinked, and nodded carefully. “I think so.”

She seemed to regather her thoughts. “I saw someone today—yesterday? That I recognized and didn’t, again.” She looked back to him, piercingly. “So, I have a pretty good guess who you are, by association.”

“Wildwing’s my brother,” Nosedive confessed.

“Hmm,” she said again, because she did not need to have this stated. She sighed, and blinked a little more forcefully, pushing sleep out of the way again. “Why, though?” she shook her head to keep him quiet. “No, I mean why...him. Why was Wildwing there?” She seemed to think about this to herself. "Why were either of them?"

“Wildwing saves people, it’s sort of a stupid impulse he has.”

She laughed into a coughing fit again, and took a moment of short, quick breaths to recompose herself afterward. “I don’t know, it feels like a broken zipper.”

“It’s not the weirdest thing that’s happened,” Nosedive said. “Dragaunus does goofy things like that.”

She stared at him another moment, as if she could not quite find what she wanted to say. “I have all these thoughts that don’t line up right, like you and I had this conversation before, but maybe it was her, but I never told any of it to her,” she said, befuddled. She looked up at them both again. “You are all very rude, by the way. Literally no one’s bothered to introduce themselves.”

“Nosedive!” he proclaimed. “Grin.” gesturing to his silent companion.

“Emily,” she said, visibly amused.