Chapter 6: The Recluse’s Confession

Roger stirred. He felt like someone had put him in Big O and threw him around with him inside a few times. His head felt heavy, his arms, legs… he felt groggy. He also felt sick to his stomach. As he tried to sit up, he felt a spasm of pain from his left side and gasped.

This hurts.

He came to, realizing he was in his room. Then it dawned on him. He had been fighting with that guy. But what happened? Why was he here? And where was Dorothy?

He gingerly moved to the side of the bed, gently setting his feet down. He then became aware he was hooked up to an IV and his lower arms were in freshly wrapped bandages. The spasm of pain now reached a new level as he was sitting up, coming from his midsection. He tried to stand, but he felt weak on his legs, and he fell onto the floor. But apparently, this movement didn't agree with him, and he vomited. He took a moment to breathe.

Damnnit all to hell. Get up, Roger! Get up! I need to…

Dorothy and Norman burst into the room. Dorothy frantically trying to pull him up, along with Norman, and put him back into bed.

"What's going on?" he asked sleepily, but relieved she was there, "Dorothy, you alright?"

"I'm fine, Roger! But you can't be moving, not yet."

Dorothy tucked Roger back into bed after Norman lifted his legs onto the bed. Norman then went to the bathroom to grab a towel and returned to clean up the mess on the floor.

"This hurts. I don't feel so good…" Roger began, but stopped as Dr. Plebanski walked in.

"I see the prodigal son has awakened. I want you to know, you damn louse, you gave me a fright, as well as Carlye, Norman, and Dorothy. I ought to charge you for it."

"Dr. Plebanski, a pleasure," Roger winced, trying to smile.

"I want you to know that using staples on you to close you up was the most satisfying thing I have done all year. I also want you to know that you nearly died. You knicked your abdominal aorta, so it's a miracle you are here. No more knife fights. You're off your feet until I say you're better, you got me?"

Roger chuckled, wincing again. "I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble."

"You better be. I've already told Dorothy and Norman your care regimen. Carlye and I will check on you at least once a day. You're on a liquid diet until the stitches heal on your aorta and until I remove these staples. And, ABSOLUTELY NO PHYSICAL LABOR. Oh, and no drinking either until you're off the meds. You tear that wound open and you may not be so lucky."

"What's with the IV?"

"Some antibiotics to make sure nothing gets infected. And I see you threw up, so apparently they're doing the job. Once that IV is done, I got some others you'll take in a pill form and some pain management, even though Norman tells me you strictly regulate with just OTC stuff. So, I kept it to that category for the most part."

She dropped the stern façade for moment.

"Everything aside, you really did scare me. Try not to do anything stupid again. I'll drop by tonight, make sure you're all set. I need to get back now. Norman dear, I'll see myself out."

Norman nodded as he stood holding the wet towel. Dr. Plebanski gave a brief wave before shutting the door.

"Master Roger sir, I know you just awoken, but do you need anything?"

Dorothy sat on the bed, adjusting Roger's pillows. Roger shook his head slowly.

"Not right now. I think I'm okay."

Dorothy and Norman looked at each other.

"Could you give me a moment with him, Norman?"

Norman nodded and excused himself, exiting the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. Roger tried shaking the drowsiness from him, but he only succeeded in making his head dizzy and heavy. Dorothy adjusted his covers over him, pulling them further up.

"I would ask how you're feeling, but I feel like that would not be the best question to ask right now."

"I feel like I got thrown around in Big O. Of course, having metal staples hurts… a lot…"

Roger adjusted himself on his pillows, his labored breathing now slowing as the pain subsided. Dorothy got up and moved to his other side, snuggling close to him without hurting him. Roger was surprised at first, but wrapped his arm around her. Dorothy held tight to him.

"I'm sorry… for worrying you…" he whispered.

Dorothy looked at him. "Don't apologize. But you should with Dr. Plebanski."

"I know. She only ever cusses at me when she's mad at me. She's kinda the mom I wished I had."

Roger chuckled, but stopped when the spasms of pain began again. They held each other for a while in silence. Dorothy was trying to figure out what to say to him first. She knew he wouldn't be happy about Beck, then of course there was the issue with what the rep told her, and what Beck told her about Alex. Any option was a poor way to begin a conversation with him.

Dorothy sighed and pushed herself up, looking at him.

"What's wrong, Dorothy?"

"I don't know where to begin."

Roger raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I'll just start then. Beck knows. He has had a feeling for a while something was going on. He was meeting with Angel about the expansion project. Apparently, PUB began remodeling the power plant near the bridge site even though they were supposed to wait until Beck was finished. He let it slip to her that what they did would be something similar to what Alex would do and then…" She took a moment to pause.

"I hit the all-call distress while trying to reach for Norman, and my call went through and they both heard it. Dastun came first, he was in the area, and helped get you in the car. I guess Norman must've saw your pulse plummet because the next thing I know he was behind me when I was taking you to the clinic. I figured with what happened, a hospital in the dome would be a bad idea. But, it was Beck who did… I guess most of the heavy lifting? He managed to find supplies for Dr. Plebanski. I guess before he came… well… Norman was helping her, and he said you looked bad for a while."

Roger looked dumbfounded, mingled with anger. "Beck? Helped me? Why?"

"I guess it's partly from the previous reset, he says he feels guilty, though he said he was just looking out for himself too. Beck said Alex wanted to create his version of a new world and not work with a group that had been backing him with the science and tech. Alex never liked their vision, so he broke off from them. Alex went into details with Beck, Beck didn't state what they were. I guess it was bad for Beck though. I guess he found a line he couldn't cross."

Roger tried to think on what Dorothy said, but the pain and grogginess were not helping his concentration. "So… Alex was being helped by someone or a group, providing the tech and science to restore Big Fau. Angel said…the Paradigm Science Foundation does receive a lot of funding from Paradigm, and the domes. I think it's safe to say they were the ones… probably backing Alex or maybe someone affiliated with them. Now we just need to… find out who in the Foundation was doing it, what for, and why, unless the Foundation is just a facade for this group that was backing Alex."

He winced again and Dorothy got up went over to a group of pill bottles, looking them over for the ones she needed. She opened a few, shaking out their contents. She poured a glass of water.

"It's not much. Just Tylenol, a cyclobenzaprine, and one of your antibiotics. You'll have to take the rest with food, or liquid in your case." He accepted the pills and water, downing them in one gulp. Dorothy sat back down next to him.

"What else did Beck say?"

"I guess he tried to apologize for everything he's caused in his own way. Stated that he wanted to help and recognized you as our best chance to win this fight. There's a meeting at the end of the week with everyone regarding Angel's case, if you're up to it. But there was something else too."

Dorothy steadied herself, bracing for what could turn into an argument. She looked away from his gaze.

"The rep, before I took off running… He said something about the first rebirth, I'm thinking the first reset, he said his employer was curious why I chose to be… human. It seems like they still need me. They said two negotiators was one too many and that they could afford to lose you, but not… me. So, I guess… they're still after me. When I asked Angel, she was just as confused as I was."

"Angel said she made the choice to make you human. So… our enemy knows that now… but why would they think you have a choice in the matter, if Angel's power is the one that can do that? But if they're targeting you now… it's probably best if we do negotiations together from now on, especially with what I saw. There's a disguised construction lot they're using, for who knows what, near your case…" Roger held his chin, thinking.

"You're not… you're not gonna stop me from being a negotiator?" Dorothy asked, confused. He looked at her, caught off guard by her question.

"That's your choice and your choice alone. Honestly, there's pros and cons to you staying or not staying a negotiator. I'll respect whatever decision you make."

Dorothy thought long and hard. "I'll still work then. I'm not gonna hide from them."

"Then it's best if we stick together for the time being."

They both fell silent, Dorothy thinking about Roger's questions.

"I… don't know, regarding Angel's power abilities. I was firmly under the assumption she had the power to change… well, look what happened to me. And that's been worrying me, Roger. If I had a choice, then why did I change into human and not remain an android?"

Roger felt the words hit him harder the pain.

"You… you still don't regret…"

Dorothy felt a ping of annoyance.

"NO, I don't. Well… if I had been android, that fight could've ended sooner without the need for you to rescue me, and we wouldn't be here. But at the same time… ugh! I'm so confused…"

She covered her face with her hands, trying not to cry. She was tired of crying and tired of guessing. Was it too much to ask just to have an answer for once? Roger reached out to her, putting his hand on her arm.

"Dorothy, whether you had been human or android, I would've gladly repeated all this, if it meant I saved you in the end. You're not replaceable."

"Neither are you to me!"

Roger carefully pulled her towards him into a hug. "I appreciate that, you don't know how much I do. But I need to catch up to you, for all the times you saved me. I owe you a lot, Dorothy."

Dorothy buried her head into his chest, trembling. Roger held her close. After a moment, Dorothy gently seated herself up right, careful not to cause Roger pain, wiping her eyes. She then began to kiss Roger passionately and while he did not mind, he remembered Dr. Plebanski's words from earlier. He grabbed her hands gently, pulling away from her sweet lips.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, looking at her.

"I… well… I don't know. I guess I just wanted to… feel close to you… that's all," said Dorothy turning red, avoiding his gaze.

"I appreciate it, don't get me wrong. The spirit is willing." Dorothy leaned in and began kissing him fervently, he responding in kind before breaking away again. "Not sure if the body can handle it. And you heard what Dr. Plebanski said."

"Technically, if I'm doing all the work, then you'll be resting, and it's not physical labor." She looked back at him once more, meeting his eyes.

Roger raised an eyebrow, smirking, as Dorothy carefully positioned herself on top of him, kissing Roger once more.

*********************************

Dastun came by later that evening to take my statement of events that happened the day prior. The guy who had tried to hurt Dorothy and nearly killed me still wasn't talking. But with my statement, positive ID from a photo, and Dorothy's statement, as well as Dr. Plebanski saving pieces of evidence like my shirt and the knife, he would be held indefinitely. Dastun was still investigating the scene from when Dorothy started running until the fight ended. The MP forensics found the other knife that I had knocked out of the rep's hand at the scene. Dorothy told Dastun what Beck had told her, mainly as a warning to tread lightly. There's a very good chance someone is not having a happy day right now because I'm alive, and a good chance word would get back to them soon enough.

Of course, Norman was not having none of it. I've never seen him so agitated. Norman activated the security system on the mansion to Level 2, but after Dorothy told him what happened that day, he began muttering under his breath "cowards," and "the nerve." To say he is concerned would be an understatement. It seemed he had taken on a bit much, as Dorothy helped him out with the chores around the house, while taking care of me.

I'm not sure how I feel about owing Beck another favor. Beck provided Dorothy the info to activate the Final Stage cannon, and now, he provided the resources Dr. Plebanski needed to save my life. It felt odd that a two-time criminal turned straight after the last reset was wanting to help us. I agreed with Dorothy to tread lightly and keep an eye on things. She seemed more biased towards Beck's change of attitude, but I couldn't blame her. This was the man that killed her father, and her creator. Perhaps Beck now entering the fray with us was another challenge for Dorothy to overcome, learning forgiveness.

For the time being, we slowed down on cases and screened calls. Norman would remain with Dorothy while she met with clients if meetings were at the mansion and for right now, would escort her to other locations. Of course, with Dorothy being the only negotiator available, she had been unable to go to the clinic to volunteer, but Dr. Plebanski and Carlye understood, telling her not to worry about it during the times they checked up on me. I had Norman bring her notes and the typewriter to me so I could type up the files. I was bedridden, but I could still do some work and make it easier for her. While I did tell her it was her decision to continue negotiating for the firm, I had my reservations naturally. I supported her and believed in her ability. I just didn't trust the world at the moment. Finding out that she was a target again and for a reason that had yet to be revealed to us, worried me. All we knew is that she was key for the megadeuses as an android, so what use could she be to the enemy as a human? Part of me wondered if I was making the right decision, and then I had the other part of me telling me to believe in her and have faith, like Norman has told me so many times before.

With new changes, come new challenges, especially to routines. The issue? Dorothy working out. Norman had noticed an increase in her intensity to the point of possibly hurting herself. I noticed she had been more exhausted as well, sometimes falling asleep on the couch, and Norman would have to wake her. I sat down with her one night and we began adjusting her regimen to meet new goals. I feel responsible and I thought it would be best to help. However, an issue came up with her running. Now with being targeted, Dorothy running around the block was a no go, not without someone else watching. This resulted in an argument with her, but Norman came to my aid, agreeing with me. He proposed escorting her on his bike. Norman could run with Dorothy, but it was a question of keeping with her pace. The fact that Norman is a skilled marksman and could easily pick up and whisk her to safety on his bike back to the mansion was a compromise we could agree upon. Though the dirty look she gave me at the end of the conversation made my insides curl. Yet, between taking care of me, managing cases, and helping Norman, Dorothy's workout routine would get moved to the back burner, as she barely had time for herself.

The end of the week finally showed up and I was starting to get my strength back. Moving was still painful. The staples would be in me for at least two weeks per Dr. Plebanski. Of course, there was my aorta as well. My arms also had to be stitched up as well from the gash I received while trying to block that guy during the fight. I shouldn't be complaining, but doing basic things, like getting dressed, have become a pain, and the itchiness with the bandages has been bothersome…

Roger grimaced as he tried putting his shirt, muttering under his breath. He never felt so constricted in movement before. For once, he found himself grateful that giant robots and monsters were not running amuck. Big O required an extraordinary amount of physical labor to operate, and would definitely have fallen in Dr. Plebanski's No Physical Labor ban.

He grunted, finishing pulling his sleeve through the left arm, then moved to the right arm. Once on, he began buttoning his shirt, but stopped when Dorothy entered the room, carrying a tray of fresh bandages. He sighed.

"I just got my shirt on. Do we have to do this now?" he asked, annoyed.

"For one, yes. I know you got your bandage wet while showering this afternoon, I saw it while helping you, so no buts. It's coming off," said Dorothy, as she began undoing the buttons on his shirt. She carefully removed his shirt, setting it down on the bed. She put on protective medical gloves.

"Let's do your arms first," she said. Roger stuck out his arms and watch Dorothy carefully unwrap the protective covering around them, then removed the bandages, followed by the gauze protecting the two sets of stitches on each of his arms holding the wounds closed. She looked at them for a moment. The skin around them had return to its normal color and the wounds themselves looked pink, but not puffy.

"It looks like the antibiotic ointment is working. Have they been itching?"

Roger shook his head. "No, not since I was given the ointment a couple of days ago. Sometimes in the morning, but I think that's because I'm sleeping on it, maybe?"

Dorothy began applying ointment to the wounds. Once completed, she re-wrapped them in clean gauze, bandages and the outer protective lining.

"Now for the fun part," Roger groaned, placing his hands on the side of the bed.

Dorothy looked at him, annoyed. "It's not fun for me either. Just hold still."

Dorothy began peeling away the taped gauze layer around his wound on his midsection. Roger flinched as some areas were more tender than others. Once the layer was off, Dorothy set it down on the bed, looking at the staples. Compared to the thread sutures on his arms, these were still swollen and red. However, the puss that had been leaking from them was gone.

"It seems the cream is working here too. Let me clean them up."

She took a gauze pad, squirting some saline water on it, and began cleaning up the remaining dry puss and cream carefully. Roger grumbled.

"That hurts," he said, raising his voice.

"Roger Smith, don't sass me. I'm almost done."

She finished wiping the area, blotting it dry with another gauze pad. Roger grumbled once more as she did so. With the area now dry, she applied the antibiotic cream to the area. Once done, Dorothy applied a clean gauze pad to the area and took medical tape and taped around the area.

"All done. See? That wasn't so bad…"

Roger muttered an inappropriate retort. Dorothy paused for a moment, then started giggling at first, finally growing to laughter. Roger scowled.

"What's so funny?"

"I… I… I don't know!" she wheezed, laughing. She finally calmed herself. "I guess I'm glad you haven't lost your sense of humor."

"I wasn't being funny, Dorothy Wayneright."

Dorothy kissed Roger's forehead. "Normally, I would call you a louse. But I really needed that. Thank you. Also, you need to shave." She rubbed his chin, his five o'clock shadow very noticeable. Roger sighed, gave her a coy smile while she took the tray and sat it on the dresser.

"Think you can help me with my shirt now since you're so apt at taking it off?"

"Don't push your luck. But yes, I'll help you…"

"I'll also need help with shaving."

"I change my mind. You're a louse, Roger Smith."