Recovery

The steady hum of equipment met Wesley's ears as the young man felt the fog of sleep being lifted from him. It was like a heavy wool blanket that was pinched in the center, pulling up and off of him, as he steadily became more and more aware of his surroundings. He was... in a bed?

His eyes fluttered open and the sterile sight of what appeared to be a hospital-like room met his gaze. The lights were dimmed, at least, but the harsh lights were still on above him. He moved an arm, or rather, he tried to, but found that it was bound down to the bed he was laying upon. A few different devices were wrapped about his arm, and as he looked around, he could see the monitors they were connected to. As he did so, Wesley's eyes began to steadily widen.

He could see the screen and on it, the devices on his arm were presumably monitoring his Fraemwork, and what he saw there was... not at all what he'd expected.

Life: 32% | Death: 79% | Time: 16% | Space: 41%

Code: 32L79D16T41S

Error: Anomaly Detected

Well, that was... certainly an anomaly. He went over the numbers a third time in his head, just making sure that he was looking at them right, but he definitely was. One hundred and seventy-eight percent. Which meant that between the Beast and the dead firebird, he had drawn out over a hundred percent of a Framework. His whole body felt... weirdly normal, despite the high amount of Framework that was supposedly in his body.

He didn't quite remember how he had managed to survive the ordeal with the Beast, but it was clear he had. But as he was looking down toward his arm to see about trying to itch the flesh in between the sensors, he heard the door open, and he blinked, looking up.

The door shut a moment later, and he picked up on two sets of footsteps approaching him. One was rather lackadaisical, while the other was rather were regimented and firm. So at least one of them was military. "Seems like yer awake in there," a rather lazy voice spoke, before the curtain was drawn and Wesley found himself looking at two figures. One, he remembered as Major Ellen. The other was an extremely tall fellow with messy, light brown hair that was tied loosely in a ponytail, and an empty, almost spacey smile on his face. "Good to see ya comin' back around to the world of the livin'."

Wesley frowned as he looked between the two, his gaze resting on Major Ellen for a moment longer, given the fact that he knew her better. Or at least, he'd at least met her once before. "Major Ellen, what is this?" he asked, gesturing toward the screens.

"We were wondering if perhaps you could shed some light on that situation. I would imagine that in the very short time that we last saw one another, you have made some serious strides."

Wesley frowned, not quite sure how to respond to that as he lifted his left hand up, scratching at the back of his head. "I... was mostly just trying to see what I can do with what I have. Is that not something I should've done?" he asked. The woman had let him through so clearly she was at least familiar or was willing to give him a trial run.

"Ideally, we would have brought you into the Basic Training as you were, and worked alongside you to determine the extent of the Skills you have and how to best utilize them. However, it seems that there were several things that went entirely out of hand," the woman spoke, folding her arms over her chest. "I've informed Dr. Tenor here of your unique...Framework," the woman spoke, glancing to the man.

The doctor grinned a bit at Wesley, nodding. "You got some interesting stuff going on with ya. First you were all the way down to zero, now you're up over a hundred. Physically though, you're fine. Everythin' seems to check out on your blood panel so I'd say you're just as healthy as can be. But it's just not something we've seen before."

Wesley nodded, feeling like he was being inspected like he was in a petri dish, allowing a frown to crease his features a moment later. "Well... yeah. I don't know what you want me to tell you. I don't know anything more about it than you do. I just know that this is how it is," he spoke, frowning. Suddenly, he felt his stomach giving a quiver of pain. How long had it been since he had eaten? He ignored it as best he could, glancing back up at the pair of them. "What do you plan to do about it?"

Major Ellen frowned, the woman seeming to have that look perpetually sculpted into her face. "At the moment, nothing. It's late afternoon now. Thanks to the Restoration Skills of your allies, you only needed to rest for a short time, but you are not yet out of the woods," the woman spoke. "But once you have been cleared by Dr. Tenor, you may leave and return to your group. Until then you will remain here."

Wes frowned, looking between them. "But you just said everything was fine on the bloodwork. Why do you have to keep me longer?" he asked, feeling a touch of annoyance growing in his tone, despite the fact that he had no leg to stand on, here.

"I said everythin' seems to be fine. I gotta check a few more things. And there's someone else who's on the list to visit with you before you get outta here, my man," the doctor spoke, a grin on his face. "Oh, and Shannon sends her regards out to ya." The doctor winked at him then, and Wes wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he just nodded in response.

"In that, I suppose we do owe you. Lieutenant Shannon has been with us for quite some time and you putting yourself on the line to rescue her will not be something we overlook," Major Ellen spoke, giving a salute to the young man still trapped in the bed. "But at this time I am needed elsewhere," the woman spoke, before turning smartly on her heel and beginning to leave, vanishing from Wesley's sight after a moment.

As soon as she left, the doctor and Wesley both gave a small sigh of relief, and at the similarity, shared a slight laugh. "She's a little too intense for me, man. Anyway," Dr. Tenor murmured, heading to check on the monitors that were hooked up to the yong man, "let's have a look. Still rocking over a hundred percent, looks like. You seem fine, looking at all your vitals, but man I have no idea what having that kinda Framework is going to do to you."

Wesley blinked, the good cheer fading a bit at Dr. Tenor's words. "You think it's something bad?"

"Nah. Well, maybe. In all honesty man, we don't know. No idea what this could do to you or anyone else that has that going on. So when I say I have no idea, I really mean it. It could be nothing at all," the man continued, his gaze flickering over the numbers that were reported. "At least, I would guess that you've got nothing to worry about. People that are Tier Two are basically just at two hundred pecent, right? And Tier Three are at four hundred percent. So they can deal with it, so you probably can too. I just wouldn't keep pushing that envelope if I were you."

Wesley paused, before giving a small nod. That made sense, and while he wasn't sure if he fully believed in this doctor fellow, he at least could appreciate the sound logic that he offered. "So you mentioned though that there's another visitor?"

The doctor nodded, pulling away from the monitors to glance at him. "Yeah. Victoria wants to have a word or two with you, I think. That's the Tier Three who saved your life," the man offered with a grin. "So whenever she shows up, I'd be grateful, if I were you."

Wes exhaled slowly. He hadn't realized it was a Tier Three that had saved him- he had just thought it was a group of the Soldiers. But if there was a Tier Three... he wondered just how strong she was. He recalled, vaguely, seeing the figure just standing in mid-air as he had fallen to the ground, and he had to imagine that's who it was. "Yeah. I'd rather not antagonize someone who saved my life," he murmured.

A slight wind began to blow through the room then, and he heard Dr. Tenor grunt in annoyance as he settled the papers down. Wesley recalled this same wind just before he had been thrown backward off of the Beast, and sure enough, the door opened a moment later. "Well, look who's here. Hey there Vice," Dr. Tenor spoke, amusement in his voice before the door shut behind her. "He's in the last bed."