Before Iggy opened his eyes, he could feel everything. The soiled clothes sticking to his oily skin. The foul covers hugging him tight. The salty sour smell of human waste embedded in the fabrics. The rhythm of his heart steadily pushing blood through his veins, pulsating his entire body at the rhythm similar to the second hand on a clock, only a little faster. The warm humid air ventured in and out of his lungs, thick, like water. The stench conflicted with the floral scents coming from the carpet and the sweet smoky smell of Nansen sitting at the bedside. He could hear his breath… he could hear chatter. People speaking nearby and footsteps thudding loudly as if they were right overhead.
Iggy's dry red eyes clicked open. Everything appeared clear cut, precise, and sharp even though not a single light was on. The far wall seemed to be much closer than it really was and the textures in the wall paper were deep, even from the distance. All around him the world appeared rejuvenated and fresh, with hues that fell deeper than the darkest blues and purples, magnifying the beauty that surrounded him. Who knew that the color spectrum was only a glimpse into the rainbow that awaited on the other side?
He coughed. His throat was dry and cracking into pieces, and all of the muscles in his face were excruciatingly sore. Every single part of him hurt. A grittiness lined the inside of his mouth. He coughed again and then spoke. "Na… Nansen?"
Nansen jostled up to standing and leant over him. He stretched his mouth into a wicked smile. "And he is coming back to life!" he bellowed. Iggy winced at the volume of his voice. His eardrums were yet too sensitive. "Come on boy, let me have a look at you."
Iggy peered up and saw Nansen's golden shimmering eyes that were lively and moving as if they were golden glitter dumped into a glass of water. Swirling and dancing. Hypnotic. He gazed in awe, taken by the magnificence.
Nansen didn't share the same amazement when he landed sights on Iggy's face though. He held a hand flat over his pounding chest. "Whoa…" he panted and took a step back. The person in the cot didn't feel or look like Iggy anymore, and this was to be expected, but Nansen's nerves warned him to stay away.
It was Iggy's eyes. They weren't his simple blue eyes anymore. Not at all. The outer sky-blue rim crowded over a ring of pale light green, which surrounded a rich golden yellow. The yellow circled around his large pupils. All of the colors were strong together and blended perfectly like a cat's eye, but they had an unignorable light of their own that was hostile and inherently evil.
"Na… Na… Nansen…" Iggy stammered, attempting to straighten his fingers out for him, but instead he howled in pain. Pain. Each tight muscle fiber needed to be pulled back into place and he needed help.
Nansen took a deep breath and he cleared his throat. "Your eye color changed," he admitted, mostly to excuse his reaction. But excused or not, his hand still shook as he laid it against Iggy's left shoulder and peeled him out from the cocoon of filth. Iggy continued to wail in pain. Nansen forced his voice into a gentle, mother-like tone, "oh, come with me. I'll make you feel better. This is the last part."
Once sitting erect, Iggy forced his neck to twist so that he could glance back at Emi, but the other cot was gone. There wasn't a piece of evidence that any other transformation had taken place. A cold rush of worry drenched him from the inside out. "Emi? Did… did she die?"
"Awww…" Nansen cooed and squeezed the tips of his fingers into Iggy's deltoid muscles. "Look at you. You're asking about someone else already? I bet you really like her." His squeeze became a soft pet. "Don't worry, she finished turning four hours ago. Her transformation was so much faster than yours, probably because she's a little bit older and didn't have any big deformities. Speaking of, look!"
Taking both hands in his own, Nansen stretched Iggy's arms outward. His limbs were symmetrical with one another for the first time, ever. His deformity was corrected. But, even so, Iggy was not ready to jump around in excitement. He came to standing with his elbows bent and his hands near his abdomen. He didn't have his long hair to hide his face anymore, but he still hung his head low as if he could hide behind it.
Nansen wrapped his hand around his solidified arm. "Alright, this is the hardest part," he warned.
Iggy's aching shoulders slouched forward and his knees bent with weakness. Hot tears gathered at the rim of his eyes. "Please… no more…" he begged. "I can't handle any more…"
Nansen bent forward to better see his face, then he bit his lip. "Actually," he teased, "you've made it through the worst part. Now, we just have to walk down the hall to the bathroom. I didn't mean to scare you."
Iggy looked at the open door to the private bathroom that was already in the room. "Why?"
"No questions," Nansen responded. Then he pushed him forward. The noise that came out of Iggy's mouth was a cry that sounded like an old door creaking. Eeeeeeek. His strides were so small, so miniscule, that he wobbled back and forth, and depleted most of his energy before even exiting the room! He was so sore, and in so much pain, but he still moved forward.
Together they walked step by short step to the bathroom located two doorways down the empty hall. Baine had prepared the bathroom for them after he had helped Emi clean up. There were fresh towels, clothing, a paper cup, and a metal file waiting in order next to the sink.
Iggy sat down on the tall bathtub ledge with his arms crossed over his stomach and Nansen started the bath with simmering hot water. While the tub filled, he ripped off the soggy bandages from the side of Iggy's face, and then grasped the back of his shirt and tore it to scraps. He did the same with his pants and he threw it all away into the garbage bin.
Then, with a gentle push, Iggy sank into the tub at last. There was a great comfort in the lack of air and gravity when placed neck deep in the hot water as it helped to loosen his muscles and relax his solidified joints. It washed away all of the filth from his skin. Nastiness carried away along a subtle current and vanished into a hole in the bathtub wall, where it was discarded.
Nansen dipped a towel in the water and wiped off the extra blood that had hardened over Iggy's lower face and neck. He wiped under his eyes and over his cheeks. Everything was quiet, almost serene, but then Iggy gazed up at him.
Nansen's mouth went dry and he pulled his hand away from Iggy's face. He forced himself to look away anxiously, as it would be to turn his cheek to a venomous snake, and brought his attention away from Iggy's hazardous eyes. He rinsed the sweat and loose hair off of Iggy's head to cover up his reaction, but unsatisfied with the lingering embarrassment, he dunked Iggy under the water to further distract from his own awkwardness. He artificially chuckled once Iggy resurfaced. "Well, well… What happened to all of your scratches?" He re-wet the cloth, held Iggy's arm and wiped downwards toward his left wrist. "And your wrist?"
With his head planted against the ledge, Iggy peered down at his submersed limbs, and through the water, he couldn't see a single imperfection in his smooth white skin. Only a smudge of shiny scar tissue remained across his left wrist. Oddly, he couldn't see what he saw. For his entire life he had the disability and now, in a relatively short matter of time, it was erased, but the ingrained memory of it was not. He lifted his right hand out of the water and stroked the side of his head, carefully, and to his surprise he felt very short hair growing from his scalp. Fuzzy and soft.