Danny Boy

Her awakening had been difficult. Not as a senshi – with Andeon by her side, that had been surprisingly easy. It was her awakening at the hospital that proved to be difficult. Her first thought upon awakening was that the nightmare that was zombie pines was not over. Awakening at 1:37am to a dark hospital, after surviving a zombie apocalypse, being eaten, then reborn again, was enough to send the redhead into spasms, sweat beading along her brow. Laying there, in the hospital bed alongside what looked to be other dead patients, she thought she was in a morgue. The ‘bodies’ of some of the other guard lay in beds next to and across from hers, only furthering her panic – they were dead, the guard was dead, not again please not again… But as she came to, the nightmare began to fade, her memories of what happened after the barrier returning, leaving her quieted and a little in shock.

The nightmare that was Barren Pines was over. For once in the last few weeks, she could breathe easy. Which she promptly did. For three whole minutes. Then she was antsy.

~~~

After several (long) hours of negotiations, winsome smiles and a little shameless begging with a particularly stubborn nurse, (and she had thought Model UN was hard,) she was allowed to roam the hospital and take a much-needed walk. Or, roam them as best she could. Padding down the white tiled hall, Mackenzie O'Connell looked a little like a prisoner with her ball and chain, dragged her iv around on the wheeled poll they had given her, looking more depressed and tired than one would have thought possible for the upbeat girl. Bare-footed and showing her underwear off to the whole ward, she looked much like the walking zombie she had been not two days previous, only worse. Beyond the aches and pains of surviving a zombie apocalypse, her face was drawn, eyes sunken in a little from lack of sleep and nourishment.

This was the real Mackenzie O'Connell. At least, what she was really feeling at 3:42am that Saturday morning. You couldn't get much realer than this. Around others, you never knew if she were really happy -- she was a mask of deceit, of white lies. And she carried it off so well. Sure, I'd love to hear you practice! Math test? Naw, I'm ready, I've got it in the bag. Cut? What cut? Tis just a flesh wound. Her concern for others was genuine, but her concern for herself was practically non-existent. Be brave. Show compassion for others before yourself. Don't let on you're anything less than ready. It had gotten her so far in life. It had gotten her to Barren Pines (for better or worse).

But here and now, there were no others for Micky to play pretend for. The Zodiacs were peacefully asleep or discharged already, healing much quicker than a normal human would. Even the Zodiac Soldier in her, recently awakened, had no one to hide from – both Topher and Hero were nowhere to be found. In fact, most of the guard was gone, their parents having come to discharge them long ago. Most of the humans who had survived were long gone as well, the only evidence of their survival the unmade beds beside her own. And the truth was, Mackenzie O'Connell was probably healthy enough to be discharged. There was only one problem.

She had nowhere to go. She had no relatives in America – Barren Pines had offered her room and board and food and education, all for free. Without it, she had nothing. Her mother had not been able to afford to come to see her. She had neither the time nor the money to fly from their home in Ireland, couldn’t afford to leave her job to come. Instead, when Mackenzie had woken, she had found a letter on her bedside table, written in her mother’s beautiful scrawl, slightly shaky from emotion. That in itself had been rough. Ireland was thousands of miles away. Her mother, her brother, her home and now anyone she even remotely knew were thousands of miles away. Elke was gone. Even Andeon -- sweet, stupid Andeon -- was no where to be found. She was perfectly, utterly alone.

It was a disquieting feeling.

Returning to her bed, Mackie lay down on the starchy white sheets of her hospital bed, letting her head flop haphazardly back on the pillow and wishing to a god she wasn’t sure she believed in that she could find some little comfort, just to hold her together.

Her comfort came, surprisingly, from words spoken not twenty four hours before.

Hold the line.