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Saturday, March 17th 2029

He couldn't get the sails to look right. They were hand-stitched out of silk, and at 1/48th scale on his model ship, would billow in a breeze the way a thick canvas sail would in a full-scale sailing ship. But the material was too delicate to fold around the sewing strings he was using to rig them up. Too little and it would tear, too much and it would bunch up and look unrealistic. And he was running low on material.

He licked one of the strings and, using a pair of tweezers, threaded it through the holes in the sails and tied it to a tiny steel hook on the end of the spar holding up the sail. One down, nearly a hundred more to go.

“Alex?"

He recognized the even footfalls and swish of cloth before he heard the voice. “Morning, Lily."

“What are you doing up so early?"

He turned in his chair to face his wife. “I couldn't sleep."

She hugged her housecoat tighter around her body as she stepped out into the garage in her bare feet. “What's wrong?"

“Nothing," he lied. “I just couldn't sleep so I'm working on my ship for a bit."

She came over and hugged him from behind and he could feel she was wearing nothing underneath her robe. At any other time that would have excited him. “You weren't in bed and didn't answer your phone, so I came out to check on you. You sure you're okay?"

“I'm fine," he said.

“Okay. If there's nothing wrong, I'm going back to bed. Just don't stay out too long, okay?" She kissed him, walked a few paces and turned back. “You sure you're okay?"

He nodded and smiled. “I'm fine. I'll see you soon."

He watched her leave and picked up the tweezers again and sat for a long moment, just looking at them. Then he put them down and picked up his phone and read what was written on the screen again, even though by now he had nearly memorized it.

Reports of alleged human – animal hybrids have so far been dismissed as hoaxes. An unnamed source from Goddard Genetics claimed these were due to conspiracy theorists and viral marketing campaigns by Goddard's competitors, or by disgruntled ex-employees of one of the rival companies Goddard had bought out.

_ _ An anonymous source, claiming to be a former employee, leaked information pertaining to this so-called “Project Sobek." In a recent interview with another former employee, Alex Chapman, denied knowing anything about the rumoured Sobek Project, and claims he was never involved with the genetic coding.

Goddard Genetics has not responded to these rumours.

Then he checked his Dead Man's Switch again, and it was indeed still locked. He sat back in his chair and stared forward, not really seeing anything. The question that had plagued him constantly for the last eight hours, the question that had kept him up all night, was who was behind this leak, if not him?

He sighed and looked at his hands on the desk, then back to the model ship that was nearly complete. Besides the rigging, all that was left was painting the name on the hull. It had to be done before putting it on display. Boarding a ship without a name was considered bad luck, so he decided displaying a nameless ship was the same.

He took out a pot of black ink, selected the smallest brush he had, dipped it, and paused. Usually these names just came to him. A name would tell you about a thing. Names were powerful things. Things for defining.

He put the brush and ink away and picked up the ship, cradling it carefully in his arms like a child, and brought it into the house to the living room and set it carefully down on the coffee table and stared at it. The guns sticking out the sides seemed to stare back. Thirty-two black eyes boring straight into him. He could imagine them firing in unison, belching fire and smoke. They spoke of death. Thanatos? he thought.

He looked outside at the night sky. Nyx; the god of night.

Or Erebus; the god of Darkness.

Moros; Doom.

He heard footsteps approach again, but this time they formed an even 4-beat pattern made by a pair of wings and legs. A white scaly face appeared around the corner and smiled. “There you are! I wanted to cuddle."

He looked back and tried to put on a neutral expression. “Sorry, Naomi. I just couldn't sleep. Figured I'd get something done instead of just lying there."

“What's wrong?"

“Nothing's wrong, I just… I don't know." he glanced back at the nameless ship. Naomi approached the couch and jumped up on it and sat in front of him, folding her wings neatly on either side of herself. She watched him patiently, just waiting for him to tell the truth that she knew would eventually come out.

“Someone found out," he admitted.

“About what?"

“About Goddard's secrets. I saw that there have been leaked documents that mention Project Sobek – the name given to Goddard's top-secret plans of making human-animal hybrids. I remember first hearing about that years ago, when I hacked into their database to find out information about you. When I spoke to Dimitri Goddard himself, he seemed furious that I knew about it." Alex absent-mindedly stroked her scaly neck, then ran his fingers through the feathers crowning her head. “I put that information into the Dead Man's Switch I wrote and threatened to release it if anything ever happened to either of us. I never planned to actually use it but now someone else has. The secret is out, and the only weapon I have against them is gone. I don't know what to do now."

She nudged against his palm. “Why do you think Goddard would do anything?

He shrugged. “They threatened to have me arrested if I didn't bring you in. It was only the Dead Man's Switch that saved us. Now without it… I don't know."

“Just tell them it wasn't you."

“They wouldn't believe me."

“Why not? If I had stolen from them, I wouldn't just go right to them. I steal your clothes all the time and I just hide them."

He chuckled and kissed her scaly head. “I suppose so. If anything, it's less suspicious if I just show up and tell them That's not what a guilty person would do." He sat back and thought. “But it's been years since I've been there or talked to anyone from Goddard in person."

“I'm sure they'll still remember you."

“It's not that. It's just that, they're still pissed that I stole you in the first place. And they weren't happy when I threatened them with the Switch later. I think they thought they were done with me, and now there's this. They were glad to finally get rid of me, and for me to show up there again… I don't know."

“I could come too."

“No," he said quickly. “No. I don't want us to be there at the same time. That would make it too easy for them to just take us."

“Do you think they would do anything? They were kind enough to fix my wing." She held out her left wing where the scar was still visible.

He ran his thumb over the rough patch of greyish scales. “That wasn't out of kindness. That was to protect their brand."

“But if they wanted to do something, they would have done it then."

“I suppose. I don't know." He took a breath and sighed, and looked out the window where the first faint hint of daylight was beginning to brighten the eastern sky. “Maybe I'm just being paranoid. There's no reason to think they'd actually try anything. But still… just be careful today, okay? Watch where you're flying. Don't open the door for anyone you don't recognize."

“I'm a big girl, Alex. I can take care of myself. You don't have to protect me anymore."

He sat back and looked at her. She was standing as she usually did, resting her weight on her hind legs and leaning forward slightly on her wings. Her weight was enough to make them flex and he could see the hard lines formed by her muscles and the black streak of scales that followed the leading edges of her wings until it terminated in a single black claw. Her face, normally soft and sweet, was fierce with determination. And this light made harsh shadows form across her face, accentuated by the black lines around her eyes and the sharp, bladelike feathers on the back of her head.

“You are, aren't you? I forget sometimes. I took care of you for so long. I remember when you were just a little ball of fluff. Now…"

“Now I'm your dirty little cockslut."

“Naomi! Geez."

“Well, it's true." She put on a pouty face and said, “I try to be a good girl for you but it's so hard because sometimes I'm just so naughty and I need to be reminded."

He shook his head. “This is hardly ladylike behaviour. What's gotten into you?"

“Your dick, last night." She winked. “And I am many things, but a lady is not one of them."

He smiled. “That's definitely true. And that's what I appreciate about you."

“Oh, is that what you appreciate about me? I'm just trying to make you relax. Did it work?"

“I think so. Thanks." He reclined on the couch and she snuggled up next to him, draping a wing over him like a blanket. She rested her head on his shoulder and he kissed her snout absentmindedly.

He stroked his hand over the pebbly smooth surface of her scales and felt the warmth radiating off them. Her body temperature was lower than his, but her lack of hair made her heat easier to feel.

“Also, did you steal my Millennium Falcon sweater?" he said. “I've been looking for that."

“Is that the light grey one?"

“Yes."

“No, I haven't seen it." She said, grinning.

He shook his head. “You know, you can buy your own clothes now."

“But then they won't smell like you." She thought for a moment, then looked up at him and grinned devilishly. “You want me to get some lingerie? Maybe a garter belt?"

“Mmm… I'd love to see that."

She leaned in close and whispered into her ear in a husky voice. “Maybe I'll get a pair of handcuffs too."

“I don't think those would fit over your wings though."

“They wouldn't be for me, silly." She winked.

He felt his heart skip a beat and he pause, and for a second, imagined… but then it was cut short by her quickly standing up on him. She grabbed him by the wrists with her claws and held them above his head. “Mine," she said.

“If you say so," he said with the smallest amount of conviction he could muster.

"What? You think you can escape the clutches of a dragon?" she leaned down till her face was in inch from his. “I'd like to see you try," she purred and grinned, exposing a row of sharp teeth.

He tried to move his arms and found he couldn't. Her grip was iron-hard and her wings surprisingly strong. “I guess you got me," he said. But there were other ways he could win, even if it wasn't physically. “But you know you've always had me." He kissed her on the snout.

“Aww," she said. Her grip slackened on his wrists, just enough for him to slip out of them. Quickly he grabbed her wings and held them away from him. Not enough to hurt her, of course. But enough she couldn't grab him again. Her eyes widened for a second, and he was secure in the knowledge that he could still win. “Now who's in charge?" he said with a grin.

“Still me," she said, and lunged forward and clamped her jaws over his neck. He could feel her sharp teeth against his jugular. It actually hurt, but (as much as it pained him to admit it) it hurt in a good way. Her saliva wet his skin and her breath was hot against it. Goosebumps spread across his entire body. He could feel his hear pounding in his neck on her teeth and could tell exactly where the blood was going from the growing pressure in his pants that pressed against the scaly body resting on top of him.

“Damn it. Okay, you win, Naomi."

“Thay you're 'ine," she said, with her jaws still around his neck.

“I'm yours, Naomi."

She opened her mouth and he let go of her wings. He rubbed his neck. “I can't have bite marks on my neck when I have my meeting with Goddard."

“Then be a good boy and don't struggle."

“I'll be good. I promise."

“Good. Because I won't have my prey escape." She nibbled the skin on his neck, up his jaw, and his ears. Finally she let go and leaned back and nudged against his crotch, then looked at him and said, “Alex, this isn't getting you excited, is it?"

He could feel his face redden. “It's not the biting!" he said, trying to convince himself as much as her. “It's… everything else. I know what you have planned for me."

“And what's that?"

“You tell me."

“Why don't I show you? She stripped off his clothes using her teeth and claws with surprising efficiency. When she grasped the elastic band of his underwear with her teeth she tugged it hard and he heard it rip.

“Careful with the teeth!" He said.

“Oh, stop being such a baby. You know I've never accidentally bit you." She looked down at his now erect and exposed penis. “But I might do it on purpose." She pulled back her lips, exposing a row of sharp looking white teeth. His dick twitched and she saw it. “Ha-ha! I found something new you like!" she said. “Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

She crawled up his body, resting her weight on him, until they were face-to-face, bent down again and him and planted a slow, sensual kiss against his lips. He felt the tiny bumps of her scales over his abdomen, and a wetness against his cock as she pressed herself against him. Without breaking the kiss, she adjusted her crotch over his until her slit was positioned at the tip of his penis. Still with her lips against his, she blew out a huff a breath against his cheek, he saw her eyes narrow as she looked at him, and her lips part in a wordless gasp as she lowered herself onto him until he was fully engulphed within her, scales pressed against skin. She paused for a moment, savouring the feeling of being filled.

He reached up to touch her face and ran his thumb over her jaw where the black scales met with the white ones, and again noticed how perfectly they were divided. There was no gradual transition from black to white here or anywhere on her body – it was as pure and perfect as she was.

She moved up, pushing herself up with her wings resting on his shoulders, then they settled into a comfortable rhythm, her rocking up and down him and it was like a dance, perfectly balanced with the two of them. No words were needed to be said for the reassurance of consent; they both understood that they belonged to each other, fully. She had permission to do anything she wanted to him.

The first time there was mere lust and a base-level subconscious, physical desire. It was exciting and novel. Then later came genuine attraction, both physically and mentally. And then actual love, and that was the best part. But was there still lust? He almost laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of the question. Of course there was. There was no question about it – she was still as attractive as ever. The perfect sexual being – literally designed to be, in a way no natural being could ever hope to be. Perfectly, effortlessly erotic. She would never have to wear makeup or even dress up sexily. In fact, the only clothes she seemed to wear were his oversized t shirts when it was cold (shirts that she had claimed for her own, and he was no longer allowed to wear.)

With one claw she brushed a lock of his hair away and her movements were slow and almost hesitant. Her claw lingered on his cheek and slowly brought it down and she touched his skin with her scaled palm where the fingerlike joints of her wings met her wrist. Then she slipped her wings under them, so that she enveloped him in leathery scales and held him tight. He did the same, wrapping his arms around her shoulders above her wings while she steadily rocked up and down, forming a steady rhythm dictated by the melody of their own breathing, their heartbeat which he knew beat in time with hers. Punctuated here and there by a gasp, a huff of air when she plunged deep down onto him, occasionally kissing him deeply, her head keeping still with her snakelike neck while the rest of her rocked up and down on him.

Then she stopped and laid down on him, breathing hard. He could feel her heartbeat on his chest. “There's not enough room here," she said into his chest.

“Bedroom?"

“Lily's still sleeping." Naomi pulled off him and hopped onto the floor. “So I guess you're going to have to take me on the floor like an animal." She crouched down and raised her tail out of the way, showing off a dripping wet vent glistening with fluids. As he watched, a single string of fluid dripped from her scales to the floor. She looked back at him with heavily lidded eyes.

“Please don't be gentle," she said.

He jumped off the couch and nearly fell over and crouched behind her, put his hands on her hips and felt the heat coming off her. And the aromatic, musky smell of her arousal, an undefinable scent that smelled like home, no matter where he was, and he felt as long as he was with her it was always home. He had travelled all over the country with her, doing interviews and talk shows, and no matter where they stayed, as long as he was with her it felt as familiar and safe as his own bedroom. But this was how he liked her; so open and exposed for him to just take it. He touched the tip of his cock to her pussy and could feel his desire like a physical force urging him forward. Like an addict, he wouldn't be able to resist even if he wanted to.

“Mmm. Not there," she said.

“What?"

She looked back at him. “You heard me." She lifted her tail higher up and lowered her rump just enough that his cock slid out of her pussy and rested on the hole right above it.

“You're a bad girl, Naomi."

“I know."

His cock was already slick with her fluids. Enough he wouldn't hurt her, he hoped. He pushed in a bit, slowly, so not to hurt her, and at the same time fascinated by the way her scales bulged outward around the head of his cock, as if her hole was greedily slurping on it.

“What part of 'don't be gentle' do you not understand?" she growled.

“I know, but this is a delicate procedure."

“I'm not delicate!" She said, and with the last word she shoved herself backwards onto him, impaling herself on his cock so her tail smacked against his chest. Warmth enveloped him tightness, and the heat rising from her body. For a second they both just stood there, him holding onto her tail, and her barely able to keep herself upright. When she caught her breath she looked back at him and said fiercely, “I'm a dragon, and I can do things human women only wish they could do."

“Okay. I believe you," he said. Slowly he withdrew, and watched his cock expose, slick with her wetness. Then plunged in again, quickly before she could complain, and heard a little gasp from her. Then again and again, each time rewarded with a wordless huff of pleasure. The slick, tight passage hugged his shaft and he could feel the texture of the ribbed surface.

She matched his movements, thrust for thrust. When he plunged forward, she pushed back onto him, making sure he was all the way in until his skin was flush with her scales. Then withdrew, and back again, over and over. She pushed back on him hard enough to nearly knocked him over and he grabbed her tail for balance.

“Careful!" he said.

“Well, fuck me proper then."

He redoubled his pace and continued hard enough it would have hurt a human but he knew she could take it.

“Tell me what a bad girl I am," she said.

“But you're a good girl," he said in between thrusts. “You're my good girl."

He saw her smile at that, but she said, “not now I'm not."

And he agreed. So he leaned forward and pulled her head closer to him and said, “you're my bad girl. You belong to me now. All of you." He kept one hand on her rump and laid the other one on her neck and clenched his hands, letting his fingernails dig into her scaly hide. She let out a gasp of pleasure. He found himself saying and doing things he would never normally say. But he was drunk on arousal and knew it was mostly his penis making the decisions. And seeing her enjoy it made it all the more hotter. Seeing her rock forward with every one of his strokes, her head was bent down so her feathers were pointed up at the ceiling. Her mouth slightly open so he could see her teeth. And she muttered, fuck me, so quietly it must have not been meant for him. He felt his heart quicken at that.

“You're getting close," she said and it was a statement, not a question. “I'll show you what your girl can do."

Then she stepped forward, out of his grip. “Hey," he said as his penis flopped free of her ass and hung sadly in the air.

Then she did something unexpected, and turned, opened her jaws, and took his cock in her mouth until her snout was nestled against his skin, mere seconds after he had been balls-deep in her ass. She let out a muffled but satisfied sigh as she bobbed her head back and forth, running her tongue across his length inside her mouth. And in this hypersensitive state he could feel the tiny bumps of tastebuds rubbing against the head of his cock. The ribbed surface of the top of her mouth and the smooth, glassy texture of the sides of her teeth, slick and wet and hot. Her lips were wrapped tightly around his shaft so nothing could escape and she could add a bit of suction.

All Alex could do was hold on to her head as his cock spasmed in her mouth. He could see her throat working as she swallowed every last drop, and she pulled back for just a second so the tip was just past her lips and he knew she was only doing this so she could taste him better, and this knowledge was hotter than the feeling he missed from being fully inside her mouth.

Once he was done all he could do was hold on to her while she kept him inside her mouth, still suckling weakly at him and trying to coax out whatever she still could from it. His cock gave a few half-hearted spurts which she gulped down greedily, but he was spent. He stood there, breathing heavy and trying not to fall over she finally opened her mouth and let him out. She gave it one last lick and looked up at him and said, “convinced?"

“Naomi, I never doubted it for a second. You're a very naughty girl." He bend down and kissed the top of her head and said, “but you're still my good girl." He smoothed over her feathers which had fallen out of place, then stepped backwards and collapsed on the couch. “I just need a minute to catch my breath."

She crawled up next to him and sat down, laying her wings on his lap and gave his cock a few more licks, trying to catch anything she missed.

“You sure love that thing, don't you?" he said.

“It's the only reason keep you around." She gave it one final kiss as if in farewell, and looked up at him with a sweet expression, hugging his cock with one claw (gently this time) against the side of her face. She gave him a toothy grin which she must have imagined looked cute, if it weren't for the cum dripping from her chin.

He looked up and was surprised by the daylight streaming into the house. The first rays of sunlight were starting to creep up over the horizon. He looked up at the clock on the wall.

“Oh, damn it, I need to get going."

“Did I keep you too long?" she asked

“The offices open at 8 so I should leave soon. I'm sorry to cut this short."

“Fine, but you owe me an extra long cuddle session when you get back."

He kissed her again and stood up. “You can hold me to it."

“And maybe I'll bite you some more."

“No!" he said. Then he said, “Maybe."

He picked up his underwear and put it back on (difficult, as his erection showed no sign of abating.) Naomi was still sitting on the couch, watching him. “Do you have a plan?" she asked.

“I'll just tell them the truth. I have nothing to hide." He pulled a t shirt on, then his socks. “You were right. If I was guilty the last thing I would do is show up at their offices." He didn't want to go back to the bedroom and find a dress shirt and wake Lily, so he just found a pair of jeans and pulled them on, then a jacket from the hallway closet. He looked back at Naomi. “Thanks for that. I was nervous before, but I'm a lot better now."

“Any time, Alex."

“Love you."

“Love you more."

As he was stepping out the door, he glanced at himself in the mirror and noticed a dozen little red marks along his neck. He rubbed his neck but that made it worse. He glanced back at Naomi, frowning, but she was merely grinning hard. “I'm not sorry," she said.

* * *

Trees passed by outside his car window as he kept one hand on the steering wheel. As much as he'd like to let his car do the driving, his Tesla still struggled to navigate the unmarked lanes from his house to the main streets. He passed by a pickup truck he didn't recognize parked by the side of the road. There were only about a dozen houses on this road, and it was rare to see another vehicle so early in the morning. As he passed it, he glanced inside and saw someone at the wheel, just sitting there. Weird to see another car on this road so early in the morning.

He yawned into the back of his hand and concentrated on driving. He saw in the rear-view mirror the pickup had started moving and was approaching him from behind. He frowned, then moved to the side of the road so it could pass.

Alex didn't even have time to look up before it suddenly swerved into him and smashed into the side of his car. The glass shattered in an explosion of white shards just as the pickup's front end deformed his door enough to shove into the cabin and slam into Alex's body. His car was violently forced off the road into the dirt as the autopilot tried to regain control, but a massive oak appeared in front of it and even a computer can't react in time when there is no time and the world exploded in a burst of piercing white light.

The pickup reversed and backed up a few feet, dragging the smaller car with it until they tore free. A man walked out of the pickup. He paused for a second, inspecting the damage. His own truck had torn through the passenger side door of the Tesla so that the driver inside it was bent awkwardly to his left side, his head hanging out of the shattered window between the already deflated airbags. Blood ran from his nose down his chin and neck and bruises were already forming across his face. It looked strangely lumpy, like an unfinished clay sculpture.

The tree it had struck was embedded within the front end, pushed nearly into the passenger compartment. The front hood was a twisted mess of metal and plastic, and coolant or something was leaking out and the front left wheel had somehow detached and was sitting in a bush a good 20 feet away.

The man reached in through the broken window and felt for the driver's pulse. Still there, faint. The man sighed. Used to be you could dump a jerry can over a wrecked car just to make sure the job was done. But that'd be a dead giveaway for an electric car.

The man glanced down the road for cars. Satisfied they were still alone, he reached in the car again, this time with both hands.

* * *

Naomi got up and stretched. She hadn't intended to fall asleep on the couch. She looked at the clock on the wall, but it had been less than an hour. There was no way to know when Alex would be back, and she figured she could go out hunting and catch herself breakfast. Yesterday she had flown all day and beaten her previous altitude record. Maybe she'd break it today. Hopefully, she'd be back by the time Alex returned from Goddard and she could tell him. And no matter what it was, Alex would be proud. She smiled again, picturing the look on his face when she told him. Then she'd really earn that cuddle he owed her.

She wondered what had woken her when she heard a phone ring again and Naomi recognized the ringtone from Lily's phone. Then Lily's voice. “Hello? Yes, that's me… yes, he's my husband, why?"

Then silence. Naomi cocked her head but heard nothing else. She looked around the couch and saw Lily standing there, looking like she had stopped in the middle of taking a step. She looked up at Naomi and on her face there was nothing at all.

* * *

Naomi landed in the rough concrete parking lot outside the hospital and dashed through the front doors under the red glowing EMERGENCY sign and rushed to the front desk.

“Alex Chapman," she said breathlessly to the hospital receptionist. “I need to see him."

The receptionist looked up at the dragon standing in front of her, bewildered. “I'm sorry, uh, ma'am, but Mr. Chapman is in surgery right now. You can wait here for him to be released but only immediate family members or spouses are permitted to visit. Are you…?"

“I'm obviously not family!" Naomi cried. “I'm his dragon. Don't you recognize me?"

“Well, yes, but… I'm sorry, this is a bit of a breach in protocol." She cleared her throat. “It will be a few hours at least before he's accepting visitors. If you'd like to have a seat…" she motioned vaguely to the waiting room behind Naomi where she could feel the stares of people sitting. Her feathers stood out the back of her head. Naomi let out a cry of frustration and looked behind her. There were stares, of course, there always were even now – people still weren't used to dragons walking around with people. And Naomi's unique markings gave her away as that one dragon they saw in the interviews with Alex Chapman from Goddard Genetics. And of course the phones came out of pockets and purses and predictably as clockwork. Phones snapping pictures, following her as predictably as her footprints wherever she walked.

“Is he…" she choked on the next word and it died before it left her mouth. “Is he going to be okay?"

The receptionist typed something on her computer with infuriating slowness. “…I don't know. It's too early to tell. All I can tell you is that he's in surgery and the doctors are doing everything they can for him. If…" The receptionist cleared her throat. “When he's released from surgery, you're welcome to come back, but if he's still unconscious only family member with identification would be allowed to visit. I'm sorry, but those are the rules."

Naomi dropped to the ground. She looked up and saw the sign saying SURGERY -> and thought if she ran for it they wouldn't be able to stop her. Behind her she could hear the shutter sounds of phones snapping pictures behind her, and people talking in hushed voices. She turned around and glared at the gawking crowd of people sitting there, pointing, taking pictures. Not even in this time would they give her a moment of peace. She looked at them in the eyes, one by one, and bared her teeth, until they looked away.

* * *

---

“I'm sure he'll be alright," Lily's mom said, rubbing her shoulder. “People have survived worse."

Lily nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wiped her eyes again.

“Did they say what hospital he's in?"

“Royal Columbian," she croaked. She squeezed her knees, took a deep breath, held it, and let it all out. At her feet, Rubik dutifully sat watching her with his head on her knee. He knew enough to know something was going on. His steady breathing was comforting. A clocked ticked from the wall. Alex had always insisted on at least one analogue clock in the house and couldn't explain why. It never sounded so loud as it did now.

“Do you want to visit him?"

Lily nodded. “Yeah. Can you drive? I don't think I can now."

“Of course," her mom said.

“Where's uh, Naomi?" her dad asked.

“She left once I told her what hospital he's in. She must already be there." Lily stood and reached for her jacket and put it on, one arm through the sleeve, then the other one. Trying to concentrate on anything except the thing that was threatening to take over again and break her.

“Do you think they'd let her in?"

“I don't know." She picked up her purse and dropped her phone in it. She crouched down. “Stay here, Rubik. Be good. I'll be back soon," Lily said. She gave him a pat on the head and went to the door. She paused with her hand on it and looked back at the house – their house. If he didn't come back, could she live here without him? Where every room held a memory of them together? Things we never think we'll think about. What always comes as a surprise no matter how prepared you think you are. She stepped out through the door.

Her parents' car was an old-fashioned gasoline thing and it roared as it backed down the driveway then down the lane leading away from their house. The sound was enough to soothe her and block out distractions, so she concentrated on that; leaning against the window, feeling the cool glass against her forehead. She closed her eyes and for a few blessed moments managed to not think about him.

Then a crunching sound underneath the wheels made her open her eyes and for a split second, the image lasted in her mind for far longer after they had passed, she saw caution tape wrapped around some trees, one of which had gash where the bark had been stripped down to the wood, surrounded by a smear of paint the same white as Alex's car. The undergrowth had been crushed and bent underneath.

A piece of glass must have been stuck in the tire tread, and it clicked against the road over and over, like a ticking clock. And no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore it, it kept clicking over and over, like it didn't want her to forget.

* * *

---

Naomi landed in the snow, panting. After she wasn't allowed in the hospital, she didn't want to go home so somehow she had ended up here in her hideout in the mountains where she went to be alone. Next to her stood her little nest, built carefully of the course of days, carefully placed branches woven into a subtle curve just big enough to hold her.

The last hour was a blur, like a half-remembered dream. Lily had said something, something impossible, but when Naomi tried to remember there were no words, just a cold feeling of dread in the bottom of her gut. Like suddenly there was no gravity. She didn't believe it when she heard it so she had had flown down the road he took every day just to see for herself, and had seen a police car and caution tape, someone sweeping up broken glass around a tree with bark all scraped up and with marks of paint the same white as Alex's car. And lying in the bushes, a familiar looking hubcap. That was when the crushing weight of the guilt pressed down on her and she realized if only she hadn't convinced him to go, he'd still be here.

She shut her eyes tight against the memory and listened to her heart pounding in her ears. When she opened her eyes the scene looked the same. The place looked just as she left it yesterday; deceptively calm and peaceful. Trees still stood unconcerned with the turning of the world. It could just be a dream. All she had to do was wake up. She jumped up and down in the snow, forcing herself awake. Wake up! She cried to herself, hearing the echo of her own voice, then nothing. The trees stood indifferently, as if mocking her with their stillness and serenity. Then the reality of it hit her like a wave of ice-cold water and there were no words for what she felt.

She threw herself at the nest she made, crushing it under her weight. With a sweep of her powerful wings, sticks and branches smashed into pieces. Distantly she felt stabs of pain from broken branches piercing her scales but they were nothing but whispers lost in a sea of screams. She tramped the branches into the earth, until the entire clearing was nothing more than a mess of frozen mud and sticks. The rock next to it where she had written “Casa Naomi" in the snow. The words stood out still legible, as if mocking her. She remembered how funny she thought it was yesterday. She swept the snow off, obliterating the words. She collapsed into the muddy snow and felt cold numbness creep into her tired and torn wings; a welcome distraction from the pain inside her.

She knew people sometimes believed in a higher power that could help them when they needed it the most. And they would ask the universe for help or guidance. And she always knew it to be silly but if there was any small chance…. she looked up into the sky and whispered please and the world didn't even bother to tell her no.

Far below, in the small port town that edged nearby mountains, residents looked up at the same time. Some swore they heard a dragon roar. It wasn't a roar of challenge, or anger, it was a long, lingering cry of pain, and of grief, and of loss.

* * *

If it weren't for the steady repetitive beeping of the heartrate monitor, Lily would think he was dead. Ventilator whirred and pushed life into Alex's comatose body. Two squat grey machines sat next to him, displaying a waving green line on a black background. A heartrate monitor showing the comfortingly predictable and steady two-tone rhythm. And an EEG machine showing his brain pattern. The latter was depressingly silent.

They had shaved off part of his hair for the surgery to relieve blood pressure pressing on his brain. The left side of his face was purple where the bandages weren't covering his skin. Half his limbs were wrapped in casts with steel pins holding them in place.

Lily remembered the doctor reading a list of injuries off a chart, as if they were as mundane as stock statistic. Broken left tibia and fibula. Left arm shattered in six places. Broken left collarbone, dislocated left shoulder. Fractured skull. Six broken ribs on the left side. Dislocated left hip. Somehow the seatbelt had wrapped around his neck, cutting off his circulation. Doctor said there was brain hemorrhaging, and he wasn't breathing when the ambulance got to him. He'd been without oxygen for long enough that there was no way of knowing how much damage had been caused if he ever woke up. The only reason 911 was called was because the car itself noticed it had crashed, and had called the authorities and led them to the exact crash site. If it wasn't for that, he might still be there.

She fiddled with his wedding ring in her fingers. The doctors had had to cut it from his broken and swollen hand and now it lay in pieces on her palm.

They had given Lily his phone and she checked it now for the first time and opened the Tesla app to check the car's status. Autopilot had not been turned on, which meant Alex was driving, and paying attention.

She saw the most recent photos in his phone, a few of the wooden sailing ship he was making in the garage. A shot of his brown stained hands holding a type of wood stain. Alex and Lily in a winery in Kelowna, smiling, laughing. Posed at with their backs to a hill that led down to a river and a little town below. Memories of a different life. Memes in the download folder. Humour was a foreign language.

Next to her, her parents sat in solemn silence, with Alex's parents on the other side of him. Occasionally someone would speak and their words were lost like smoke in wind without being heard.

“I wonder if he even knows we're here," Lily said. She squeezed his hand, then leaned over his face. “Alex?" she breathed. “It's me. Are you still in there?" She glanced over at the heart rate monitor. It showed a steady 42 BPM which the doctors assured her was normal for someone unconscious. She ran her hand through his hair. “I wonder what he's thinking," she murmured to herself.

* * *

Only the sensation of cold and a tightness that made it hard to breathe, like being wrapped in a tight wet blanket. He saw a dim grey sheet that covered his entire field of view, like in the middle of a cloud. And whisps of smoke forming into random shapes he couldn't make sense of. But a dim light that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Random pricks of pain that poked their way through the faint numbness that permeated his entire left side. It felt like parts of him were missing.

Then the mist settled to the ground, forming a floor underneath him and he was aware of the physical sensation of lying down. The ground was cold under his bare back. He rolled over and rose shakily, using his hands and knees to get up. But still lost among the featureless grey fog that surrounded him. He raised his hand in front of his face and it was as insubstantial as smoke, barely there at all. He looked up and saw only an blank void stretching from here to infinity.

There is nothing that it is like to be here, he thought.

But he stood on shaky feet and found he could walk with awkward, shuffling steps. The movement of his passage made the fog swirl around his wake, forming murky, translucent shapes that dissolved once they formed.

Then he was aware of sound coming from up ahead, so faint he may as well be imagining it. Sound that resolved into music once he remembered what music was. As he limped closer he started to pick up individual notes as they fell from the sky like bits of floating ash. He held out his hand to catch one and it fell upon his hand, looking just like a fluffy grey feather. When it touched his hand it made a high note like a piano key being struck. Then it fell through his hand and fluttered down to join the rest, forming a carpet of grey feathers that shifted and shuffled around his feet.

There was someone standing up ahead. A figure, bathed in white, in the midst of the stream of feathers falling from above. Whenever a feather touched the figure, it struck a note to form the music that was playing. As he approached, it turned around. She was pale as a ghost and wearing something draped over her shoulders and arms. It looked like a dress, or even a pair of wings. Where it folded against itself it became pure black, like ink streaks spilling on white paper.

I missed you, she said. You've been gone too long.

Her voice was somehow familiar, but he couldn't put a name to it. Her face was difficult to make out. It looked like a distant memory, one that faded once he tried to really look at it. At times it looked barely human. Her eyes, bright and silver, were the only thing he could see that was opaque and real. Eyes that were surrounded by black that streaked away from her eyes to the back of her head. Something that looked like hair stuck out from the back of her head, like knife blades made of obsidian. He blinked and they disappeared, replaced by regular hair.

As he approached he stumbled and nearly fell but she caught him and held him up to regain his feet. Her skin under his fingers was soft and warm but textured unlike any he had felt before. Smooth but with bumps that were so small they were barely there. She had the wrong number of fingers too. And whatever she was wearing seemed to be attached to her wrists. His mind tried to make sense of it and the answer was so clear it was invisible, like the air you can feel but not see.

We've been here before, she said. Do you remember? Do you remember me?

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Who are you? He wanted to say, while another part of his mind said, I know you. Her name was right in front of him, so close he could reach out and touch it but when he tried it faded away like everything else.

She pulled him closer and embraced him. The material draped over her arms felt as warm as living skin, like it was part of her own body, and wherever it touched him he felt substantial as it drove away the cold wetness of his skin and replaced it with a warm soft golden touch.

It's okay, she said. I'll wait for you. She pressed her lips against his. The taste of her mouth was so familiar, but he couldn't put a name to it. Nothing was real except her. Where he touched her, he felt more substantial and felt the weight of himself.

With the two of them embraced, he could feel her heartbeat against his skin. Her wings (wings? he thought, but it was a fleeting thought) around him formed a protective shell against the outside. All around them light cascaded down in a perfect circle around them and the darkness did not dare to approach and instead lurked outside broodingly.

When they pulled apart he saw her clearly, as if for the first time. The outside edges of her body glowed with an otherworldly light. He followed the line of black from her eyes to the feathers fanning out from the back of her head, then down the serpentine curve of her neck down to her body supported on the wings at her sides and through the thin gossamer scales the light still filtered through where the scales were white and pure but for the streaks of pitch black on the leading edges.

They looked at each other.

Say my name, she said.

* * *

“Naomi."

Everyone in the room looked at Alex. Then they looked at each other.

“Did he just say 'Naomi'?

“I didn't imagine it?"

“I heard it, too."

Lily stood and bent over Alex's bed. His eyes were still closed, but his breathing was faster. His face twitched and he opened his mouth but no words came out.

“I'll call the nurse," Alex's mom said. She pressed a call button on the wall, without taking her eyes off her son. Moments later, the nurse bustled in. “What's wrong?"

“Nothing, it's just that he said something. And he's moving a bit. You wanted to know if there were any changes."

The nurse picked up Alex's limp hand and felt it, then glanced at the EEG machine. The graphs it was showing was much more active than it had been before. “What did he say?"

“Just a name," Lily said. “Naomi. His dragon."

The nurse clicked a few buttons on the machine and the graph changed to something Lily didn't recognize. She opened one of his eyes and shone a penlight into it, then the other eye. She nodded. “That's good. He's responding well to the treatment. I'd say he's now in what we call a minimally conscious state and may wake up at any time."

“Is there anything we can do to help?"

“Don't rush it. He may wake up on his own, but there's little you can do now. Keep talking to him but don't force it."

* * *

It was night again. The hospital room lay in silence, and Naomi crept forward in silence. She had snuck in during the quiet hours, past the doctors and nurses that roamed the halls, and had found Alex's room. Lily was asleep in the chair next to him, the only other person in the room.

And in the bed that dominated the small room, Alex lying motionless in the bed with braces and tubes connected him to various machinery. Monitors on either side of him displayed green graphs on black screens and hummed softly. One of them gave a steady beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep. And Naomi watched it for a while. It showed a steady 42 BPM, then slowed to 41, then back up to 42.

It was out of sync with her own heartbeat.

She crept closer without making a sound until she was level with the bed. She reached up and rested her wings on the bed.

“Alex."

She bent forward, looking at him. The monitors cast a sickly green light upon him, making him look like a corpse.

“Alex, it's me."

She ran her eyes up the tube that led from his wrist to a transparent bag hung up on a rack near the bed. Steel pins stuck out of his left arm and left leg, like a cage. Briefly she had an image of herself, trapped in a steel cage, and seeing strange faces every day that came and went, until there was one face she would always remember, a kindly face that looked at her like she was a person and not a thing, and he lifted her out of the cage, and put her in a steel box that smelled of death and decay, but then the face appeared again and sadness was written upon it and the door open and he bore her away…

“It's your Naomi."

She bent down and kissed his lips. He didn't move but heartrate monitor beeped loudly, and the graph jumped from 42 to 43, then 44 BPM.

She sat back and watched him. She would stay here until he woke up. That was that. And if anyone tried to make her leave… she bared her teeth. They could try.

The sun rose and still she sat and watched.

And then:

He heard a steady beeping coming from his left. Smelled the faint smell of antiseptic. Felt a light blanket over top him. He opened his eyes and saw someone next to him. A blurry figure that slowly resolved into a familiar face. Straight black hair, pretty face.

“Lily?" he said. His voice croaked.

She opened her eyes and her face broke into an expression of pure joy. “You're awake!" She leaned forward and embraced him, making him wince. “We didn't know if you'd ever wake up." She wiped tears from her eyes.

“What…" he paused, and his eyes closed again. For a few seconds he just lay there breathing while Lily held his hands. Then he opened his eyes again and said, “where am I?" He tried to push himself up and gasped in pain. The heartrate monitor was beeping faster now, and it set off an alarm.

“Don't try to move!" Lily urged. “Lie back down. You were in an accident. A car crash. Do you remember?"

He paused for a long moment; his face twisted in confusion. He kept looking around the room. “Where is… no. I don't… not an accident." He seemed to have trouble focusing on her. “I don't remember…" he looked at her. “I remember you."

She held up his hand to her lips and kissed it. “I'll call the nurse." The heartrate monitor slowed down and the alarm silenced.

“Not yet. No." He gripped her arm and looked around the room. “I think… I had a dream. But I don't know. There was someone…" he mumbled something to himself she couldn't hear. Then he looked up at her and his eyes were clear and focused. “You dyed your hair."

She laughed through the tears. “You said you wanted to see me with black hair. I wonder why…" she winked.

He didn't seem to get it. “What day is it?"

“It's March twenty-first.t" then with a smile she added, “Twenty twenty-nine." Her smile faded when she saw his expression as he quietly repeated the year to himself. “Really? How long was I…"

“Less than a day. But the doctors said there could be memory loss. I'll get her now. And your parents are in the waiting room. And I'll get Naomi, too. She'll be so excited to see you!" She smiled again and kissed him on the forehead.

“…who?" he asked in confusion. Then he heard the patter of feet on the ground, like footsteps but faster. Suddenly a white shape burst into the room, running on all fours. It was a an animal, but as blurry and indistinct as everything else. He could see black and white but not much else. It leaped up on his bed and shouted his name. He weakly raised an arm in front of him. “Get off me… who the hell are you?"

The dragon's expression dropped. “It's.. it's me. Your Naomi."

He pushed her away and she stumbled to the floor, awkwardly landing on her wing and sending a sharp jolt of pain through it like a faint echo of the debilitating flaw in her wing that had plagued her for so long before. There was no recognition in his eyes. He looked at her like he would a stranger. One of the machines started beeping faster, then whistled an alarm.

The nurse appeared in the room. “I said no animals in the patient rooms!" she shouted. She pushed Naomi away with her shoe. “How did it even get in here? Shouldn't even be in here.“

Naomi ignored her and glanced at Alex. Lily was leaning over him again, touching his face, saying, “You know Naomi, you just said her name."

“I don't know any Naomi," he said. He didn't sound like Alex. That was not Alex talking.

The nurse went to his side, obscuring him from her view. “He shouldn't be exerting himself so soon after waking up."

Naomi skirted around the nurse and reached up to rest her wings on the bed and look at Alex. He looked like he was asleep again. Lily and the doctor were both looking at him.

“Alex?" she asked again.

“Off the bed! Get out or I'll call security."

Naomi backed away and ran out of the room, down the hallway and knocked into a doctor carrying a steel tray and it clattered to the floor. Then she was out in the parking lot again and with one lunge of her legs and sweep of her wings she was in the air, far away as quickly as she could.

Back home, she landed in the back yard. The house looked deceptively normal, but why wouldn't it? She let herself in and wandered through the rooms. The living room where she shed her feathers. The front window where she first recognized her own reflection. Looked outside and see the yard where he taught her how to fly. Finally she collapsed on his bed. It smelled like him. She wrapped up his blankets into a pile and hugged it with her wings. Once she asked why humans cried and he said he didn't know, but it sometimes makes them feel better after, even though nothing has changed. But dragons didn't cry. Just concentrate on breathing and try not to think. She closed her eyes.

When she woke the room was dark and she could see stars though the open window, and a light breeze played with the curtains. She breathed in and smelled Alex and hugged him, and for a single, perfect second, she forgot it wasn't really him and she smiled. Then it hit her, and it felt like her wings had been torn from her body mid-flight.

She wondered what had awoken her. Through the open bedroom door, something in the dark hallway. But If Lily were home she'd have turned on the lights. Faint footsteps, like they were trying to be quiet but still not quiet enough Naomi couldn't hear. She stood and squinted in the dim light. Amidst the shadows, a darker shadow, moving into the room. A figure she didn't recognize. Something metallic in its hand. It raised the device.

Naomi heard a click, then felt a stinging, buzzing sensation in her left wing, and it went numb. She jerked back and stumbled on the bed, tangled in the blankets. The figure lunged forward at her. No time to think, animal instincts shoving aside rational thought.

She leapt through the open window and landed awkwardly on the wet grass and stumbled on her numb wing. Shouting in the house behind her and the sweeping glare of a flashlight. Then a dark shape to her right, another figure all in black. She jumped away and fell into another figure, grabbing at her, trying to hold her down, shouting words she didn't hear. Then a net thrown over her, heavy and stifling. Instant panic. Every shred of her being directed towards one purpose: escape.

She lunged at the closest figure, clamped her jaws around whatever part was closest, and tore into it, tasted blood. Screams and curses and a heavy blow across her back. The net loosened. Next figure to her left, she slammed her body into it, clawing with her wings and feet; it fell backwards. The net slipped off her and Naomi was running blindly. Over the grass of Alex's back yard, leaping over the short fence she knew was there, and she was in the woods. Her right wing full of pins and needles and she didn't trust it to fly but it worked enough to run on. Behind her, shouting and flashes of lights. Who were they? No time to think. The woods dark enough to hide her for now, and she knew it well enough to navigate with her eyes closed.

She leapt over the little stream, around boulders and stumps of old dead trees and slowed, panting. Nothing around her but dim shadows and a few stars peeking through gaps of leaves. She held her breath and listened. No sounds apart from her own heartbeat, like it was trying to escape her own chest. When feeling returned to her wing she took off into the night.