Waking up from a long night.

Not the comfortable squelching that should have been sounding either. It almost sounds as though something metal has struck a wall or another metal object. The strange sound doesn't seem to affect the old man. Actually he doesn't even appear to notice the sound which is a bit of a relief to me.

But I could hear and more importantly see what is making the sound. The glinting metal object in my hand had been halted inches away from breaking skin. Looking in that direction finds a knife one would see used as cutlery or for chopping up meat. With a black handle and a sharp metallic edge.

Currently at the end of that edge however is an almost transparent blue mesh of hexagonal shapes. They seem ethereal and almost a hallucination but I see them clear as day. One of these hexagons of transparent blue lights is clashing with my knife and stopping it dead in it's tracks.

I start to remember the old man mentioning something about this when I suddenly feel a dull pain radiate through my entire body. Air rushes out of my lungs and I struggle to get it back. My breaths come shallow and fast and my train of thought instantly rushes from my head.

While I'm still struggling to get air back I feel another dull pain radiate from the left side of my torso. The pain is excruciating but not anything I haven't felt before. In fact I know it so well I can identify it. It's the metal toes of my old man's boots digging into my ribs.

Luckily nothing's been broken yet but that's definitely going to leave a nasty bruise. Another impact comes in a spot right next to the new bruise I was thinking about and being so close the pain is even worse.

Before I even have time to think about this one more painful impacts start popping up all over my body like whack-a-mole. My legs, my torso, my knees, my elbows anywhere and everywhere except my head.

The pain stops all thought of escaping or my situation as I'm so used to it by now that I recognise the signs. This is the beating I usually get when I misbehave. The pain makes me almost nostalgic, though the nostalgia is obviously not pleasant. I start to reflect on the first time this happened to me.

I must have been 8 or 9 years old. I don't remember the argument we had now but I believe it was something along the lines of the old man, who I actually thought of as a father at the time, had rescued someone at the risk of his own life without informing his own troops or following protocol.

Annoyed I had told him that his life matters a lot more to me than some strangers and to leave people in danger next time so he can come back home to me. It had sparked an argument between me and my father that eventually devolved into him training me to fend for myself for some reason or another. I don't even remember the excuse he used any more.

I thought that was a one-off and truly believed it was training at the time. How naive I was. Thinking about it now that might have been when I started to see signs that the old man was scared of me too.

The next day I had come up to him and asked him about the subject. Only to get more training. This would happen over and over and I eventually learned not to bring up the subject. He would always look both pleased as punch and guilty as a mass murder every time he would hit me.

Now he just sees it as a chore. Something he does to educate his daughter. Even now I can see the methodical precision in his face as he kicks the part of my ribs that hasn't been damaged yet. Oh, how I can't wait old man. I'll see you dead. I'll watch the life drain from your eyes as you lay there like this. I'll be in control this time.

Then maybe you'll have fulfilled your role as a father. A small filial smile drifts to my face before I lose all awareness and the world around me darkens. Eventually even the pain is but a distant annoyance as I drift off into the world of darkness.

As I start to come back from the land of dreams I suddenly feel all the pain rush back to me and I once again make no sound as it assaults my brain with all sorts of information to process. Several bruises in the torso, my kneecaps appear to be damaged and I believe my arm might be broken as well.

Some of the bruises from the other day have gotten worse too. Wow this has been one of the worst I've had in a while. Is the idle thought that comes to my mind as I slowly sit up ignoring the pain. I start thinking about how I'm going to heal these injuries immediately. I obviously can't just sneak out in this condition and no doubt the old man will 'train' me again if he believes I have any ideas of escaping still in my head.

I bet he'll think it's for my own good as well the cranky as- I hear a "tch" come out of my mouth and realise it's probably not lady like for the first sound out of a girls mouth to be a click of the tongue and a bit of a scoff. Admittedly there aren't many girls who wake up battered and bruised like I do on a daily basis or at least I hope not.

Dragging myself up to my feet like a zombie I head towards my room. "I'll… just… heal up… tomorrow.. I guess" I say as I drag my unco-operative body towards my bed. The only thing I can think about right now is sleep and I don't think my injuries are immediately fatal. Mother will probably come treat me this time so I likely don't have to worry about it.

Thinking that sort of thing in halting patterns around in my head I open my door by dragging my functioning hand up using the other arm to support it then using the functioning hand to turn the doorknob. Pain radiates from my broken arm as I do this but I just ignore that and kick the door in.

That makes pain radiate from my kneecaps but I once again ignore it and pilot my body like a marionette towards my bed. If I just think in the third person and stop thinking the pain is my own then it doesn't affect me as much. ALS I believe it's called.

I think to myself in a cluttered mess finally managing to make my way to my bed. Once there I don't even have the energy to do anything other than fling myself on my bed and close my eyes. Once that's done I once again drift into darkness and forget about the pain.

Waking up the next morning however forces me into a rather rude awakening. Having slept on my broken arm and having bled into my bedsheets all night my injuries apparently got quite a bit worse than they were before I went to bed.

Even my usual sloth-like way of getting out of bed seemed like nothing compared to the sheer effort it took to move myself out of my bed this time. Knowing I had to get this sorted as soon as possible now I decided to head to the base room before changing out of my pyjamas so mother could patch me up.

So not even freshening myself up I head towards the door still dragging my body along a little like a zombie. My steps are slow and heavy and one of my arms dangles limply by my side. The other arm seems fine but I can't move my hand on that arm either so though it's not dangling limply the hand connected to it is.

My now bloodstained pyjamas made it look like I'd been through a bloody battlefield when in reality I was just too lazy to treat myself after the 'training' last night. Despite all this however my mood wasn't dampened. Normally I would be expressionless upon trying to deal with all the pain but today I felt perfectly at ease despite all the warning signs going off in my head.

In fact I felt great and was smiling albeit weakly. It wasn't a lack of enthusiasm on my part that made my smile weak though it was just the wooziness and lack of energy from losing so much blood and dealing with the pain of a broken arm.

So when I reached the door and used my still working arm to lift my still working hand to the doorknob. The view of the base room and an exhausted mother sitting at the table did bring me comfort and kept me smiling.

Seeing my smile mother looked a little shocked but she saw the rest of me and that shock turned into fear. The look on her face was priceless. It was like she saw her worst nightmare brought to life. Her wings behind her froze in place and her face stiffened like a board. Her smile was still there but she wasn't

Just as quickly as she stiffened up though she got to work, immediately breaking out of her almost vegetative state and leading me to a chair carefully giving me her shoulder to lean on for support. I watched her dash off into one of the other rooms as soon as she saw me sit down at the table.

I didn't notice while mother was here as the loss of blood was giving me tunnel vision but now that I'm sitting down and about to be healed I noticed the old man standing in the corner of the room and looking at me with a grimace. He looks almost conflicted but at the same time there's a resolve in his eyes as he stares at me.

In the end though the resolve fades and he looks away from my gaze as soon as I send it his way. He then shouts "I'm going for a run" I'm not sure if mother could hear him or not because he didn't even check before darting out the door and not once looking at my battered form.

A few minutes after he left mother came back into the room with a bag that looked to be one of those foldable ones that look a little like wallets when you open them. Sure enough when she opened the bag there was a single slit a few inches from the top as it splayed itself over the table.

Arrayed across the slit was a line of what looked like syringes all with a certain marking on the plunger part of the syringe we could see. The marking was a sort of mini robot that looked a little like a cross between a fly and a car. It was really tiny and didn't have any wings or anything but it's front side was rounded like the aerodynamics on a fancy car. The back was more that of a fly with a simple round body and the legs dangled down from just before the front rounded off and near the end of the creature.

That same rounded front had an adorable smile like emoji on it and the back of the little car insect hybrid had a cross on it in the colour red. The rest of the hybrid was grey by the way and the grey itself was almost metallic even though I knew this was made of plastic or something.

I recognised the symbol but I was still shocked to see it. This was a sign that a product contained nano technology or more specifically nanites. Nanites are an advanced and expensive form of treatment for even the most mortal of wounds. You could have all your limbs cut off and be bleeding profusely from each wound. But if you take enough nanite shots they'll all be grown back in a matter of months and the first shot will instantly stop the bleeding and start the growth process.

It even numbs the nerves during the process making this an incredibly useful and subsequently expensive medical tool. Something we shouldn't theoretically be able to get. As such I look at my mother questioningly as she takes one of the needles and injects it into my broken arm.

I only feel the stinging pain for a moment before suddenly all sensation from the arm cuts off completely and all the pain from that arm is gone. Slowly I also lose feeling in all the areas for my bruises as well as the nanites get to fixing up those wounds as well. The process was incredibly efficient as I could already see my arm bending slightly as the nanites start moulding my arm's bone back together.

Obviously even this miracle cure all can't do it all immediately and it'll still take a few hours for the bone in my arm to reset itself with the help of the nanites. During that whole time I won't have any feeling in all the areas they're fixing either. Since I've got so many wounds, I imagine I won't be able to feel the majority of my body for the next half an hour or so. Then my arm will stay numb for the next few hours.

Nanites have finite batteries however so if they don't manage to fix my arm completely in that time I'll either have to just wait for the natural healing process or have another shot later today. These look pretty high-quality though so I'll bet they last for a few hours on the batteries they currently have.

My questioning look at my mother wasn't answered in the time I'd been thinking all this to myself so I come out and ask it. "This is amazing. How did we afford nanites? Good quality ones too." I ask the smile slowly becoming less and less weak on my face as the nanites help my body to produce more blood and reduce the bruising.

"We didn't afford them. I got them as a gift from an overzealous client. They wanted me to keep myself safe and unmarked by scars or the like. So they gave me these as a way to combat scars. If I ever got a scar I was supposed to use them to fix it. Though I think my daughter getting scars is far more important." She explains with a gentle smile returning to her face.

It appears now that she can see my wounds healing before her eyes she's gone back to normal and is no longer panicking. It's nice to see she cares in moments like this even if I think this care would be better spent stopping that old man in the first place.

"I'm not sure if you'll need another one but I have a few dozen of them so if the bone fails to set don't hesitate to take one more afterwards and come get me to administer it for you." She speaks with a tenderness to her voice that I used to hear as a kid. While doing so she pats my head and ruffles my ears.

I don't flinch like when the old man does it because while I don't trust her to take action when it's needed I at the very least know that mother wouldn't hurt me. The soft sensation of her perfectly smooth skin ruffling my bed hair gives me a sort of peace of mind.

She stops a few moments later and says she's going to bed before heading off. Looking at her again she has bags under her eyes and is swaying on her feet a little though she's still smiling like she's got all the energy in the world which is a really weird contrast.

I almost forgot that mother is actually nocturnal. Well, we all are but me and the old man stay up during the day anyway just to fit in or in my case just out of habit. Regardless now that mother's gone to bed and the old man's out for a run.

"I guess it's time I make my great escape then." I murmur to myself as I get up still having difficulty walking on legs that I can't feel anything from. My legs are shaking and I'm having some real trouble staying on my feet.

Regardless I wander into my room like a newborn fawn and grab some clothes before going into the bathroom and doing all the preparations needed to go outside. Once I'm done and I've changed into my usual combination of trousers, T-shirt and hoodie I head to the door in the base room and once again look at my house.

This time though there's a sharp glint of malice in my gaze that anyone trained in picking those things up would've noticed. The next time I'm here will be the time to put my plan into action. If I can't break that shield with average cutlery, I may as well try using my robot. Though how I'm going to get here I have absolutely no idea.

With that thought I leave the house and head to my home.