Travis's eyes flickered open, accompanied by the strong, pungent smell of antiseptic stinging his nostrils. His head felt like it was being split in two as the sharp fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow over his surroundings. Disoriented, he blinked against the brightness and tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced him to stop.
He looked down, confused to find himself lying in a hospital bed, the sterile white sheet tangled around him. His body ached, each muscle sore as if he'd been through an intense physical trial. His movements were sluggish, and every small action seemed to require monumental effort. The confusion only deepened when he spotted Penelope sitting beside him, her head resting on her arms, clearly having dozed off in the chair.
Why was she here? How did he get here?
His memory was fragmented—he remembered accompanying Amanda and Penelope to Columbia University, the tension in the car, and Amanda's constant complaints about not wanting him around. But beyond that, everything was blurry, slipping away like sand through his fingers.
"Penelope?" he croaked, his voice rough from disuse. His throat felt dry, and it took him a moment to find the strength to speak clearly.
Penelope stirred, her eyes snapping open the moment she heard her name. She blinked groggily before her eyes widened with surprise. "Travis!" she exclaimed, quickly standing up. Without waiting for a response, she rushed out of the room, calling for the doctor.
Travis sat there, trying to piece together what had happened. His body felt foreign, weighed down by exhaustion, and his mind struggled to recall the events leading up to his current situation.
A few minutes later, Penelope returned with a doctor and a couple of nurses in tow. The doctor immediately began checking Travis's vitals, asking him a series of questions while the nurses adjusted the IV drip connected to his arm.
"How are you feeling, Travis?" the doctor asked, his tone professional but gentle. He shone a small light in Travis's eyes, checking his pupils' reaction.
"I've been better," Travis replied, wincing as the light intensified his headache. "What happened? Why am I here?"
The doctor exchanged a brief glance with Penelope before focusing back on Travis. "You've been unconscious for a little over two days. We were concerned that you might slip into a coma, but thankfully, you came through. Do you remember anything that happened before you passed out?"
Travis shook his head slightly, the motion sending a dull throb through his skull. "No… I don't remember much. I remember being with Penelope and Amanda, then… nothing."
The doctor nodded, not looking particularly surprised. "It's possible you're experiencing temporary memory loss. It's not uncommon in cases of severe exhaustion or head trauma. Your body was under a lot of stress, but with rest, your memory should return within a few days."
Penelope stood quietly to the side, her arms crossed, eyes focused on the floor. Travis noticed the tension in her posture and the guilt in her expression. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but before he could, the doctor continued.
"For now, don't push yourself to remember. The mind has a way of protecting itself. You'll recall everything in time," the doctor advised, his tone reassuring. "I'll prescribe some medication to help with the headaches and arrange a few tests, but you'll likely be discharged in a few hours."
Travis nodded again, absorbing the information, though his thoughts were still hazy. "Thank you, Doctor."
Once the nurses finished their tasks and left the room, Penelope lingered by the bed, clearly uneasy. Travis turned to her, noticing how tired she looked—her usually sharp, confident demeanor was softened by exhaustion.
"Penelope, thank you for taking care of me these past few days," Travis said, offering her a weak but genuine smile.
Penelope looked startled by his gratitude. She shook her head, a sad smile crossing her face. "You shouldn't thank me. I'm the reason you ended up here in the first place."
Travis blinked, surprised by her words. "I don't remember what happened, but it's clear that you've been looking after me. If you're saying it's your fault, then I forgive you. It seems to me that you've done your best to make up for it."
Penelope stared at him in disbelief, then let out an unexpected laugh. The tension in her shoulders eased for the first time in days, and her laughter was tinged with relief. "You really are a monk, aren't you?" she teased, wiping away the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes. "Only someone like you could forgive me that easily."
Travis smiled at her, relieved that the atmosphere between them had lightened, though he was still curious about what had happened. Penelope spent the next hour talking with Travis, trying to distract him from the weight of his unanswered questions. They spoke about their backgrounds, with Penelope telling stories of her time in security and Travis recounting memories from his life at the monastery.
Just as they were starting to feel more at ease, a knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Levi entered the room, followed by a surprise guest—Amanda. Travis's confusion deepened as he watched them both enter. He hadn't expected Amanda to visit him, given how adamantly she had opposed his presence as her bodyguard.
The room fell silent, the tension between the occupants thick enough to cut with a knife. Travis shifted slightly in his bed, glancing between the three people in the room. Levi, ever the professional, cleared his throat and spoke first.
"It's good to see you recovering, Travis," Levi began, his tone polite but formal. "We were concerned."
Travis nodded but remained quiet. He didn't want to admit how lost he felt, still unsure of what had led to his hospitalization.
"So," Levi continued, turning toward Amanda, "Miss Harrington has something to say."
Amanda, who had been glaring at the floor since she entered the room, shifted uncomfortably. Her arms were crossed, and her face was set in a fold, clearly not thrilled about the situation. She took a deep breath and, after a nudge from Levi, reluctantly began to speak.
"Travis… or, uh… Travis O'Neil," she started, her voice laced with bitterness. "I came to… apologize. For how I've been treating you. I guess it's my fault you ended up here, or whatever." She paused, glancing at Levi for guidance.
He nudged her again, prompting her to finish. "Fine. It's totally my fault you're stuck in this stupid hospital, and I'm… sorry. There. I said it."
Her apology was hasty, and she didn't look directly at Travis, but it was obvious that she was being forced to make amends. Levi, sighed, placed a hand on the back of Amanda's head and gave her a light shove, forcing her to bow her head properly in apology.
"On behalf of Miss Harrington, I sincerely apologize, Travis O'Neil," Levi said, his tone formal and serious, despite Amanda's clear annoyance.
Travis sat up a little straighter, wincing slightly at the pain in his side, and looked at Amanda. Despite her half-hearted apology, he could tell that she wasn't used to admitting fault, especially not in front of someone like him. There was a layer of pride in her that was difficult to break through.
"No need to apologize," Travis said, bowing slightly from his bed. "I should be the one apologizing for causing trouble. I'll do my best not to worry you again."
"That's more like it," Amanda muttered under her breath, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Levi cleared his throat, cutting the tension in the air. "Travis, you'll be given the rest of the day off to recover, but your evaluation is still set for Monday. So don't use this little incident as an excuse to slack off."
Travis furrowed his brow in confusion. "Evaluation?"
Penelope shot a warning look at Levi, reminding him that the doctor had advised against pushing Travis's memory too soon. Realizing his mistake, Levi quickly backtracked. "It's nothing. We'll discuss it later when you're feeling better."
After a brief, awkward silence, Levi stood and gestured for Amanda to follow him. "Let's leave Travis to rest. We'll check in later."
Amanda, eager to escape the uncomfortable situation, quickly followed Levi out of the room without a word.
Once they were gone, Penelope helped Travis pack his things, preparing to move him back to his quarters. As they left the infirmary, they were met with an unexpected surprise—a small crowd of guards waiting on Travis's floor. The moment he stepped in, the sound of party streamers popping filled the air.
"Welcome back, Travis!" Fred, Jeremy, and the rest of the security team shouted as they cheered his return. A cake sat on a nearby table, surrounded by drinks and snacks. It was clear that they had gone out of their way to throw him a small welcome-back party.
Travis's eyes widened in surprise, a rare smile crossing his face. "What is all this?"
Collins grinned, clapping Travis on the back. "We missed you, man! You can't just go off and nearly die on us. We had to celebrate your return."
Penelope, standing off to the side, smiled as she watched the group gather around Travis. She had been so focused on her own guilt that she hadn't realized how much the others had come to care for him in such a short time. Perhaps she had underestimated him.
The party carried on into the night, filled with laughter, food, and far too much to drink. By the time midnight rolled around, most of the guards were either too drunk to walk or were being dragged back to their rooms by their sober colleagues.
As the night quieted down, Travis stepped outside for some fresh air. The sky had cleared, and the cool breeze felt refreshing after the stuffy atmosphere of the party.
"It seems like the others really went all out for your welcome-back party," came a familiar voice behind him.
Travis turned to see Levi approaching, holding two cans of soda. "I brought you a Sprite. I heard you don't drink," Levi said with a small smile as he handed the can to Travis.
Travis accepted the drink with a nod of thanks. They both stood in silence for a moment, looking up at the night sky. The stars twinkled faintly above, a rare sight in a city dominated by lights.
"You know," Levi said, breaking the silence, "you're making an impression around here. Even Penelope was relieved when you forgave her."
Travis shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't remember what happened. But if she took care of me when I was down, then I have no reason to hold a grudge."
Levi chuckled. "You really are something, Travis. Most people wouldn't be so quick to forgive. But I guess that's why the chairman trusted you with this job."
Travis didn't respond immediately, his thoughts drifting back to the chairman, the man who had saved him and brought him into this world. He still had so much to prove, not just to him, but to himself.
As the night wore on, Levi and Travis continued talking, their conversation easing into the kind of memories that only those who shared difficult experiences could understand. Eventually, Levi insisted that Travis get some rest.
Travis agreed, though he couldn't help but feel that something bigger was on the horizon—something that would test him far more than anything he had experienced so far.