All That I Could See (SFW one-off)

[littlest-lily]

Rock bottom. I think I've finally reached it.

I can already hear my mother’s voice in my head, desperate to counter my pessimism. “Cameron, honey, I know it's hard, but it's not the end of the world.” “Cameron, sweetheart, this is just a setback, you'll get through it.” “Cameron, baby, it's really not as bad as it seems.”

No. I actually mean it this time. Rock bottom. I give up.

All of my muscles ache as I attempt to readjust myself in the hospital bed. It is literally impossible to get comfortable, so I'm not sure why I'm bothering, but I guess my body is on autopilot at this point, searching for any kind of relief. Pins and needles shoot down my leg in protest after being compressed in one position for too long, and I wince at the painful tug of the IV at my arm. But it’s only once I’ve finally finished turning over that I come out of my brain fog just enough to suddenly notice the sandpaper dryness in my mouth. The room is empty so I allow myself one lengthy, dramatic groan before I course correct, painstakingly flipping back to the other side. Without bothering to open my eyes, I reach to the bed’s side rail until my fingers find the controls that will tilt the bed upright.

I don't bother to open my eyes because they’re practically useless. They have been for months now. And no, I don't want to talk about it.

Once I’m lifted high enough to sit upright a bit more easily, I tentatively reach out to where I know I last left my cup of water. I make contact with the table and begin the familiar process of sliding my hand around to feel my way. My fingertips slither over a notepad and pen, a box of granola bars, a pair of earbuds…

With a heavy sigh I finally squint my eyes open, letting them adjust to the little amount of light they’re still able to capture. The visual static isn’t too bad today, at least. I still can’t make out the majority of the room, but I do have a small circle of vision remaining. My depth perception is shot, my sense of color is off, but from this angle I should be able to make out the–

I startle at the sound of a knock from a dozen feet away, abruptly piercing the silence of the room. The noise isn’t a request but a warning, a rather pointless one as I have no time to react before the door immediately opens. I slouch back into my bed in defeat, letting my arm slump lifelessly onto the bedside table.

“Hello,” the nurse calls out as her footsteps steadily approach, “I’m here to check your vitals.”

Not that I needed that introduction. This is nothing new. Someone comes to check on me every couple of hours, day and night, to check my blood pressure, monitor my IV, get the occasional blood sample. I’ve only been here a few days and already it feels monotonous. I turn my head in the direction of the nurse’s presence, forcing a curt smile onto my face as I catch the movement of the blue cloth of her scrubs but little else.

Without saying anything she takes my wrist, making me tense up from the lack of advance notice, and a moment later I sense the cool plastic of my water cup being gently thrust into my hand. I mutter a thank you and gulp greedily as the nurse sets up the blood pressure machine beside me.

“How are you feeling?” she asks me, and I catch the weary tone in her voice. I feel a bit guilty that my cordial smile has already slipped back into my usual vacant scowl. I can’t remember her name, but I can tell by the sound of her voice that this is the same daytime nurse that I’ve had for the past two days. I know I’m just another item on her to-do list, but she’s honestly been really nice, and with all the pain I’ve been dealing with I can’t say I’ve been particularly nice in return. I should make an effort.

“Better,” I lie, employing as convincing of a lighthearted tone as I can. “How’s it going out there?”

“Oh, you know,” she sighs as she slips a fabric cuff over my arm. “At least a dozen new cases every day so it's always a bit nuts… But we’ve been doing better at this hospital than most. And I heard on the news that nationwide things are finally starting to slow down.”

“That’s good,” I respond with a slight bob of the head.

The blood pressure monitor whirs to life, and despite my good intentions, I’m planning to just fall into silence for the rest of this visit the way I usually do. Small talk isn't really my thing. But then I remember something I’m genuinely curious about, and that makes continuing the conversation a little easier.

“My mom said she saw someone on this floor who has bird wings growing out of their back?” I venture.

In the narrow tunnel of my vision I make out a pair of lips smiling wider. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of other patient’s conditions. But we do get all sorts here.”

“I mean… are there any anomaly patients on this floor? Can you tell me that?”

“Well, you’re in the Anomaly Recovery Unit. So yes.”

“Wait, I am?” I say with a frown, perking up with surprise.

“Yes. They moved you here from the ICU since that’s where we have space right now.”

I didn’t realize that detail when I got wheeled over here yesterday morning. I didn’t know that an “Anomaly Recovery Unit” even existed, though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Last I heard there were over 300 cases in our county alone. Most of them are completely benign - people whose skin had turned pink or their hair doubled in length or they suddenly grew an extra toe or whatever. You know. Definitely things that require immediate medical attention. Definitely things that should put them first in line…

Still, I guess there are enough requiring hospitalization to justify a dedicated unit for them. I suddenly attribute this new piece of intel to the strange noise I had heard last night - someone was walking around in the hallway outside, but I could have sworn that each step caused a slight musical sound, like a wheezing accordion. Whoa. I wonder how many anomaly patients are in my immediate vicinity.

A couple of minutes later, the nurse is wishing me goodbye, leaving me in silence again once the door shuts behind her. I slide a little lower in bed until I’m almost flat, and I stare up at the blank, colorless space of the ceiling above me. I fixate the one dark stain that I’m able to make out in my own pathetic version of cloud gazing. For a few minutes I debate on whether it's more interesting to stare at this mystery stain or the back of my eyelids. That's when I hear it.

“Pssst! Hi there!”

I flinch and turn my head, reflexively trying to look towards the faraway voice. It's not one I recognize, and I hadn't realized anyone else had entered the room, so it makes me feel very uneasy. I don't say anything at first, and it's so quiet in the ensuing pause that I wonder if I imagined it.

“Is someone there?” I call out, looking around pointlessly.

“Whoa, not so loud! Over here, to your left. Helloooo.”

I frown as my eyes fervently try to hone in on the source of the voice. For some reason she seems to be keeping her distance. I'm about to try and push myself up into a sitting position when my small circle of clearer vision passes over the outline of a human figure, and then I find her smiling face. She appears to be further away than the door that I thought was closed, even if she's in the right direction - something about this moment is incredibly disorienting.

The mystery person stops waving so dramatically, her toothy grin widening before she speaks again. “I snuck in here. Heard we had a normie neighbor!”

“Um, what does… who…?” I question, struggling not to stutter. I’m still flat on my back and feel a bit like a cornered animal in my current state of confusion. I move my arms to my sides to brace them against the mattress and add, “Wait, what do you mean you snuck in?”

“Like, I slipped in right before she closed the door…” The girl falters for a moment and tilts her head to the side. “Huh. You are not asking the questions I thought you'd ask. Though that's kinda refreshing I guess.”

She’s still a good distance from me, just standing there on the other side of the room. I push into my forearms so that I can sit upright, and then reach out to my side table for better leverage as I ask, “Why are you so far aw–”

Right as I sit up there’s a small sound, like a soft gasp, and I freeze in place. My hand just whacked against something unexpectedly warm, and it causes me to yank my arm back off the table. But before I can figure that out, I’ve realized that I’ve lost sight of the person in the room. I’m scanning wildly, my confusion coming to a head. Where did she go? Clearly that wasn't a doctor or something, right? Am I losing my mind right now?

But no - she’s still here, somewhere, because I hear her voice pipe up again, now breathless and frustrated. “What the hell, man? Are you blind?!”

She still sounds strangely far away. And she also sounds like she’s somehow below me now. My eyes drift downwards as my mouth answers her question automatically. “Yes.”

There. I’ve found her face again. But now things really aren’t making sense. It’s impossible for her to still be so far away at this lower angle.

Her entire demeanor has changed, her bright smile gone and her eyes a little wider. “Oh,” she says, faltering, “Uh… Damn. Sorry.”

“Hold on…” I mutter, leaning forwards. Towards my side table.

I’m finally putting it together. She’s not far away at all. She’s right next to me. She’s standing on the table.

My brain is short circuiting. In this moment I don’t pay attention to her increasingly nervous expression or the way she seems to be shying backwards. I have to make sense of this. Without thinking I raise a hand up, hovering it over the table for a second before it descends again, the side of it thumping softly against the wood. I’m lowering my head to get a more level view, ignoring the pain in my abdomen as I do so, and my brow furrows in shock. She’s in front of my hand. I run my eyes up and down her figure, observing the contrasting outline of her frame against my palm. Her skin is a little darker than mine and the sight is as obvious as a cup of water splashing against my face.

She’s tiny. Like, unbelievably so. She’s sitting down at the moment, but even if this girl were standing, I’m not sure she'd be as tall as my palm is wide. It feels impossible. She doesn't look real.

“Ummmm?” I’m snapped out of my stupor by her voice, no longer sounding distant to me anymore, just sounding appropriately small to match her stature. My attention is naturally drawn back to her face, and she’s smiling weakly. “I thought you just said you were blind?”

I’m a little distracted by something new at this point. A strange… exhilaration. For too many months now I’ve had to deal with not being able to see a single thing clearly. And this is especially true with people - when I’m having a conversation with someone, the most I can make out at one time is an eye or a mouth or something. My tunnel of clear vision is so incredibly narrow. But right now… I can make out this person’s face. Her entire face. Everything from the dark brown of her eyes to the way her long black hair rests on her shoulders, to the tiniest speck of a mole on her left cheekbone. She’s right here, she's right in front of me, and I can see her!

I let out a tight exhale, trying to bring myself back to the task at hand. “Blindness is a spectrum,” I answer - it’s something I’ve had to explain countless times so it’s the only words I can easily summon at the moment. “I can see some stuff… But… I don't…” I pause, my breathing shaky and my words equally so. “Am I awake right now?”

To my surprise, the miniature girl breaks into a big grin again, her nerves seeming to settle all at once. “Now that's the kind of reaction I'm used to,” she chirps, and her arms start moving, her hands gesturing as she speaks. “You see, some of the anomalies allow people to breathe underwater. Some of them make their skin glow in the dark. And some of them make us three and a half inches tall.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Although I think that's just me.”

Of course. She’s an anomaly patient. I should have figured, since I did just find out that I’m in a part of the hospital that has dozens of them. And yet I never imagined I’d witness something like this. She looks like she belongs on the screen of my phone, not wandering around a hospital. I wonder about a million things at once - how long has she been like this? What must her experience of the world be like? It’s so easy for her to pass unnoticed - hence her being able to sneak into my room. But at the same time, I can’t even imagine how scary things must be for someone so small. She just looks incredibly fragile…

I tense up as this thought makes me remember something. Earlier, I’d reached out to the table to help pull myself up to sitting, and my hand had hit something foreign in the process. I suddenly realize why my little visitor is sitting down.

I force myself to hold very, very still as I fight back panic. “Oh my god… Did I knock you over? I'm so sorry, I just realized– um… Can I, uh…” My hand is still just behind her and my fingers twitch as I wonder if I should offer her help in getting back to her feet. The thought of touching her is strangely intimidating.

She waves me off though, quite literally with a flick of the wrist. “It's okay! Just give me some room?”

Aaaand now I’m feeling like an idiot. My palm is at her back like a wall, as if I was trying to corral her towards me. I didn’t mean to block her way or anything, but I can only guess how imposing I might look to her in these first few minutes of us meeting. A wave of shame washes over me, making my ears burn.

Slowly I slide my hand away, making sure to have plenty of clearance before lifting it off the table and back onto my lap. It’s slightly trickier for me to maintain my gaze on things without my hand as a target, and yet I have no problem keeping my eyes fixed on the incredible creature before me. She gets onto her knees before pushing herself back up to standing, and the way her leg seems to buckle ever so slightly when she first puts weight on it makes me wince.

“Are you sure you're alright?” I mumble, internally kicking myself.

“Yup!” she says brightly, and she puts her hands on her hips. “Serves me right, the nurses all keep telling me I need to stop wandering around… I just couldn't resist checking out who’s the new guy on floor seven.” She holds one open hand up in a static wave. “Let's start over. It's nice to meet you, neighbor! I'm Naomi. What's your name?”

I offer her a hesitant smile and respond. “Cameron.”

With that Naomi takes a couple of steps towards me and finds a more natural seat on the nearby box of granola bars, crossing one leg over the other. I’m rather relieved that she still seems comfortable enough to settle in for a chat despite that rollercoaster of an introduction.

“So…” she says as she lets her head tilt up at me with curiosity in her eyes, “Are you in here because you're blind?”

Well, she’s certainly blunt. I don’t really want to go into details about my own situation, but her candor brings an amused smirk out of me. “No, that's not why. Well, actually… kinda? I guess it's because I'm blind that I didn't see that a car was coming.” I shrug one shoulder and indicate my own abdomen that I know looks like a mosaic of blacks and blues under my hospital gown. “Internal bleeding.”

She grimaces. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” I swiftly try to change the subject. “What about you? How long have you been like that?”

“About seven… no, eight months now. I’ve been living at the hospital ever since. It's been wild.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet… I’m honestly struggling to wrap my mind around this.” I gesture vaguely in her direction. “How did you even like… get up there?”

She giggles. “How do you think? I climbed up.”

I frown, trying and failing to get a good look at the table she's on. I know the whole thing is on wheels, and I think there's only one center table leg, which is much too thick for her to have wrapped her arms around.

“How??” I insist, a bit bemused.

She laughs again and points towards something outside my field of vision. “I've gotten good at spotting invisible routes. Maybe you don't know, there's a couch on the other side of you that’s by the window. The curtain has this mesh trim that I can grab at, so - up the curtain to the couch, up the cushions to the armrest, used the IV tube to reach the bed, and it was an easy jump from bed to table. I do this a lot.”

I mentally map out the obstacle course that Naomi put herself through just so she could come say hello. Holy crap, she was scurrying around the perimeter of my own bed while I was busy staring at the ceiling… Either I must have been very distracted by that mystery stain, or she was just that quiet.

“So, uh, this is a regular passtime of yours then?” I ask, “Sneaking into people’s rooms?”

She crosses her arms defensively. “Dude, you have no idea how bored I get. Going on visits is the best part of my day! I would go crazy if I didn't socialize.”

“And people are okay with this?”

“Are you not okay with it?”

My expression softens despite myself. Since I’ve been at this hospital I’ve preferred it when I’m left alone, but I can't deny that this has been the most interesting part of my stay here. “No… You're fine,” I say reassuringly, “I just meant the staff.”

“Oh. No, of course they're not okay with it, I get scolded all the time! That's why I'm sneaking. Some of the nurses bring me with them to go see the more long-term patients that I've gotten to know. But usually everyone's so busy… I can't expect them to entertain me all the time.” Naomi leans back on her hands and uncrosses her legs, stretching them out in front of her. She taps her heels rhythmically on the table, creating the tiniest pitter-pattering sound, and adds, “Sometimes people come visit me! That’s always exciting.”

“You mean from outside the hospital?”

“Yeah! Some of my friends, the ones who have stuck around since I shrunk. Every once in a while it’s someone from my extended family.”

Come to think of it, since she's mentioning family… I wonder why she’s been staying here at the hospital. Is it purely for medical reasons? Or does she not have anyone from her inner circle to look after her? It seems like a pretty personal question so I opt not to ask, but then of her own volition she starts peeling back the layers.

“Most of the time, though, it’s someone who just wants to check on my dad. He’s also a long-term resident.”

“Ah…” I hesitate again, but not only does she seem like such an open book, it’s like she’s pointed out a bookmark. I let my curiosity get the best of me. “Did your dad get shrunk too?”

Naomi goes quiet for a second, and at first I think I’ve screwed up. I know I probably wouldn’t want to talk about it either if that’s what happened. But the more I nervously search her little face, the more it just looks like she’s deep in thought.

“You know, that would have actually been pretty great if that’s what had happened. Then I wouldn’t feel so alone all the time. But no…” She brings her attention back up to me. “You could say he’s in a coma. We got hit by the same anomaly. But while I started drowning in my own clothing, he sorta just… went to sleep. The doctors said it was some kind of temporal effect? As if time has just paused for him. Physically he’s fine, they’re not even having to do anything to keep him alive, they’re just keeping him here to try to find a way to fix him. I miss him so much, though.”

Yikes. This talk got real intense, real fast. My fingers fidget anxiously at my own hospital gown as I search for the right words.

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” I finally say lamely.

“Yeah, it sucks! I’m hanging in there, though. The doctors don’t think there’s a way to fix me, but they seem to think he still has a chance. Here's hoping.”

I let out a breath in a tight, subdued sigh. “I just… I had no idea the effects of an anomaly could be so… severe.”

Naomi throws both hands up with an exaggerated shrug. “They're usually not! Though I guess I've met a lot of extreme cases at this point. They recently put me in a room with someone whose bones literally turned into glass. She's had a couple of surgeries now, to replace some of it with metal implants, but she can still hardly move at all.”

“Shit. That's horrible.”

“Yep, I feel really bad for her. But I agree, most of the anomalies are much more minor… I mean, sure, I guess I'd be freaked out too if my eyes went from brown to blue overnight. But in the grand scheme of things it's so silly.” She seems to catch herself then, and she looks off to the side in embarrassment. “Sorry, that probably sounds awful. I'm sure those things feel like a big deal to the people going through them.”

I really can't get over how well I can see her, how effortlessly I'm able to read her expressions since her entire head fits in my small field of clear vision. I recognize the look in her eyes. And I feel an unexpected moment of kinship despite how different our conditions are.

“It’s okay…” I say quietly, “I get it.”

She meets my gaze again, her grin quickly returning, and a warmth blossoms in my chest. Damn. That smile is infectious.

“Alright, enough with my sob story,” Naomi exclaims, now folding her legs up in front of her in a cross-legged position. “Tell me more about you! I can't tell you how good it feels to meet someone around my age here. Are you a student?”

“Uh, used to be. At Southwest University, next town over.”

“Oh really?! That’s where I went too! Back when I could, at least. I was a computer science major - you?”

“Kinesiology.”

“Right on!”

And just like that, we fall into casual conversation; me, sitting bewildered in my hospital bed, never quite getting over the fact that I’m speaking with a person who could easily fit in the palm of my hand, and her, confident and enthusiastic, making herself right at home on my side table. We talk about the classes we used to attend and where we would go for fun. She dives into her previous interests, involving a lot of crafty and rather old-fashioned hobbies like quilting and embroidery. I'm surprised to hear about how much time she seemed to spend on her own, considering how extroverted she's coming off.

“Do you remember that nook under the stairs at the big study hall?” she asks, “Where they put all those cushions and stuff? I practically lived down there between semesters, I'd just bring my knitting needles and watch movies on my phone.”

“Oh yeah, I've gone under there before. It was cozy, I remember that spot being really warm during the winter.”

“Yes, exactly! Whoa, I wonder if we ever ran into each other. That would be something, wouldn't it? Oh, and then my other favorite place to go was at that horse statue fountain, whenever it was nice out. Actually, this one time, a friend of mine got drunk and ended up falling in–”

Naomi sure talks a lot. But I don’t mind it. At no point do I feel like I’m forcing myself to pay attention. I’m becoming more relaxed by the minute, and I frankly can’t remember the last time I’ve hit it off like this with a stranger. She goes on to tell me about how she was also working at a bookstore during college, and she regales me with stories about her colorful cast of coworkers.

“That’s because Thomas was a huge Trekkie,” she says to conclude an anecdote before avidly adding, “Oh, there's a question - you more of a Star Wars or Star Trek kind of guy?”

“Hmm. I don't know if I can pick, I like them both for different reasons… I actually might be more of a Firefly kind of guy, that's what I get nostalgic for.”

Naomi completely lights up this. “Ohh nice, that's a deeper cut! I really like space stuff, most of what I've been reading lately is that. I don't suppose you're an Andy Weir fan?”

“Of course! I think he might be my favorite author right now.”

“Dude, same here!!”

And so we discover a mutual interest in science fiction, and I think if we wanted to we could talk for hours about that alone. She gets excited about the fact that I too listen to audiobooks - neither one of us really bothers with physical books due to our corresponding health conditions. She’s already promising that she’ll come back to visit me tomorrow and bring me a list of book recommendations.

“I do really miss the feel of real paper though,” she sighs. “I’d be okay walking all over a book in order to read it, I just don’t have the space for it. Do you read braille?”

I bristle slightly at the question, feeling a bit caught unawares. “I don’t,” I admit, “I lost my vision relatively recently, so…”

She balks at this. “Oh shit! I didn’t realize that, I thought you were born with it! What the hell happened?”

Again with the bluntness. It's interesting - I’ve gotten so used to people acting like they’re walking on eggshells around me, but Naomi doesn't seem to hesitate in stomping all over said eggshells. Maybe because she's too light to be breaking them.

But this is not a fun subject, and I want to move on as quickly as possible. “Erm, it was about half a year ago… I got sick with what seemed like your run-of-the-mill virus, but it ended up causing swelling in my brain, which put pressure on the optic nerve and… yeah.”

“Damn, Cameron. And this just happened to you… Hell, I’ve been tiny for longer than you’ve been blind. That’s gotta be rough.”

“It's fine. So, uh, what got you into sci-fi in the first place then?”

Even though I'm quick to move away from the subject, I find that I’m not at all annoyed or resentful that she brought it up to begin with. Honestly, talking with her like this, I find myself opening up more and more despite all of my usual tendencies. Perhaps it’s just because her presence is so unintimidating, in more ways than one.

Later on I mention my interest in cooking from back when I was a kid and how it led to a passion in nutrition, and then she wants to hear all about it, frequently interrupting me with questions. She gives me tips on which meals to request from the hospital on which days, depending on who’s working in the kitchen. And she tells me about some of her favorite foods too.

“A what?” I say, trying to bite back my laughter, “A tapioca granule?”

“Yeah! You know, those little pearls that are in the pudding cups? Seriously, they're so nice to chew on at this size, it's a texture thing. And you can't find all that many dessert options in a hospital so...”

“Fair enough. I’ll take your word for it.”

Naomi reminds me of my cousin Danni. I haven't seen her in years since she lives halfway across the world, but we were close as kids. She's a bit brash and had a tendency to overstay her welcome, but she’s the kind of person who makes you feel like you're the most interesting person in the world, even when you don't have much to say. This current conversation feels weirdly nostalgic as a result.

“Yeah, I guess it makes sense that you get pretty bored,” I say sympathetically after she’s finished another little rant. “I'm guessing you don't have a miniature computer or anything?”

“Nope, just my phone, as cumbersome as it is to use. I really can't have many forms of entertainment here, just the couple of things that fit in the plastic shoebox I call home… They usually just shove my habitat into whichever room has the most space at any given time. It’s been so crowded here lately… You’re lucky you have your own room. Do you know how long you’ll be staying?”

“It depends,” I sigh, suppressing a wince from the way I readjust my weight. “Hopefully just a couple of days. The injury isn't that bad, but they were worried about sepsis at first so they want to monitor me for a bit…”

“Oh, okay,” Naomi says with a nod. She’s looking downward as she idly kneads at her calves, and her tone’s tinged with a heaviness I can’t quite identify. But before I can consider prying into it, she lets out a happy exhale as she then stretches her legs out long and beams up at me. “By the way. Can I just say how nice it is to not have to yell so much? I feel like I can almost just talk normally with you and you can still hear me.”

“Hmm,” I muse with a smile, “I guess your voice is a little quiet? Not bad though, I can hear it just fine. I’ve heard about how when you’re missing one sense, the others work harder to make up for it. Maybe that’s what’s going on. How about me, am I being too loud or anything?”

“Nope! You're juuuust right.”

“Okay. Good.”

“So, like…” My tiny guest pauses as she formulates her next sentence, a little hesitant to pry this time since I clearly tend to dodge the medical questions. “What exactly do you, like… see? Not that I don’t believe you telling me that you’re blind, but you keep looking right at me, so it makes me curious…?”

For a moment I mull this over. It can be tricky to describe my reality to someone who hasn’t experienced it, so I don’t usually bother trying with strangers, I just give a couple-words answer and move on. But I decide to go ahead and do my best to describe it to her.

“So, in general…” I start, slow and thoughtful, “most of my vision is pretty dark and blurry, and it’s all covered in what I always describe as static. ‘Visual snow' is what it's called. And then there’s this one small tunnel.” I hold a hand out a foot in front of my face to make a circle with my finger and thumb, lining it up with what I can make out of Naomi’s figure. “And it’s almost like a hole in the darkness. It’s not perfect, but it’s a lot more clear, so I can still make out some details.” I pause, my eyes narrowing with my smirk as I observe Naomi for a beat longer before dropping my hand. “Like right now I can tell that you keep glancing over somewhere... Everything alright?”

Her wandering gaze suddenly snaps back to me, looking startled and a bit sheepish. “Oh, yes! Sorry, I'm paying attention, I'm just keeping an eye on the clock. I've still got time plenty of time though.”

I instinctively reach to the side of my leg to find my phone that’s sitting in the bed with me. It’s on maximum brightness, and I hold it up closer to my face to take a look at the time too. We’ve been chatting for well over an hour. It’ll still be a little while until a nurse comes in to check my vitals again, but I wonder if that’s what Naomi is worrying about.

“Hey Cameron,” she says, reclaiming my attention. I set my phone back down before quickly finding her small form again. She cants her head as she peers up at me. “Are you able to walk around with your injury?”

I don’t even mind the prying at all anymore. “Yeah, I can. In fact I should be practicing more of that, so they tell me… Why? Do you need me to get you anything?”

“Nah, not yet. But I could use a ride in about half an hour.”

This makes me stop cold. “U-um… Excuse me?” I mutter.

“If you don’t mind carrying me back to my room then, that would be great,” she says lightly. Then her brow creases as she sees the look on my face, and immediately she’s switching to a reassuring tone. “I know it's a little weird at first, but from what people tell me you get used to it real fast. It’ll be no biggie, I promise.”

I can feel my heart rate picking up. Suddenly the whimsical and almost amusing idea of her sitting in my hand is replaced by the sobering, heavy reality that such a thing would entail. I can hardly get myself around, especially post injury. The thought of clumsily picking her up, of accidentally dropping her, of somehow crushing any bit of her… It's enough to make me immediately sick to my stomach.

I stare at her, dumbfounded. “Naomi. I'm blind.”

She frowns, tilting her head to the side again. “But not completely, right? You can see enough to get around?”

“But– that’s not the problem, I just– I don't know how–”

“Oh, and I can help you walk, I can tell you which way to go!” she cuts in with a nervous giggle, “I can be like a seeing-eye dog.”

I let out a quiet breath as I don’t take the bait. My shoulders tense and I give her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but… I'd rather not.”

She claps her hands together in front of her face, grimacing as she begs, “Please? I can’t open doors on my own. And I’ll get in trouble again if the nurses find me here…”

I’m starting to feel a little annoyed. It’s not like I had a say in her coming in here, and now I feel obligated to help sneak her back out.

“I can go open the doors for you,” I suggest, “You climbed up there - you can get down, right?”

Naomi is looking increasingly uneasy as she realizes how much I’m not budging in my conviction. She scrambles to respond, “Uhhh, I jumped from a bit higher up on the bed, I’m not sure I can make it going the other direction…” She gives me another pleading look. “I don't see what the big deal is? It’s just four doors down from you. You get your walking practice in that way?”

I hate how awkward this is. We've just met each other, we've been getting along so well, and now we're already getting caught up in an argument.

I shake my head. “I would still rather not.”

“Why?”

“Because… because that feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

She breaks into a smile, although her tone is sounding a little desperate. “It's not! You'll be fine, I've been carried by way less capable people than you. You don't have to worry–”

I interrupt. “How about... Can you just tell me how I can move stuff around to make it easier for you to climb down?”

Naomi has started fidgeting, looking at me with such intensity that it's making my stomach churn. Meekly she asks, “Is it like… a sensory thing? You don’t like being touched?”

I sigh audibly, and I think my frustration is becoming quite apparent. “No, it’s not. It’s a safety thing. I have terrible depth perception, and if I bump into a wall or something…”

I trail off as I watch the miniature girl on the table practically writhing, her hands now restlessly massaging into the tops of her legs. “Um,” she squeaks, and then closes her eyes with a heavy exhale. “Okay… I have a confession.”

Starting to feel a creeping sense of dread, I raise a questioning eyebrow but don’t say anything.

“The truth is that, um… I think I might have pulled something in my leg when I… fell down…”

I make a choking sound, as if the air in my lungs has suddenly gone solid. She’s talking about the moment I knocked her over. Come to think of it… It has seemed like she's been stretching her legs out this entire time.

Fuck. I did this.

Naomi starts waving her hands fervently and exclaims, “I'm fine, it's really not that bad, I promise! I just probably should take it easy for a bit if I don’t want to actually injure it…”

I throw my hands out in disbelief, ignoring the pain of the tube in my arm as I blurt out, “See?? I’ve already hurt you! This is a bad idea!”

“No, no, that time was entirely my fault!” she insists, “You didn't know I was here. It’ll be different this time. I’ll talk you through it, we can take it one step at a time. Here, let’s practice now - can you put your hand next to me?”

I don't. My breath is coming in short as my stomach continues to churn, as if something inside of me is trying to claw its way out. I let myself lay back against the upright bed just behind me, giving my desperate acquaintance a miserable look.

“I'm really, really uncomfortable with this, Naomi,” I say quietly.

“But why?” she protests stubbornly.

“I just am.”

“I don't understand why you won't even try to–”

“Because I'm a total fuck up!” I snap, my voice raising up a notch as my gaze lowers in turn. “I always am. Ever since I've lost my vision I've messed up everything I do!”

She falls into silence, and although I can't look at her anymore, I also can’t stop the words from pouring out of me.

“I’m incapable of doing anything on my own. I'm always covered in bruises from knocking into stuff. It took me forever to learn how to get around my own room. I can’t make my own food, if I try to help with chores I end up breaking something. I can’t even go outside without being literally handheld by my own mother like a fucking child. She has to house me and pay for everything, and I can’t even contribute, all I do is stress her out and stress out everyone around me.”

I should stop, I need to stop talking, but… inertia.

“Even getting sick in the first place,” I groan, “That was my own damn fault. I knew my friend had a cold and I insisted on going to see him, and not only did I almost die, I lost most of my sight over it. You can imagine how I made my friend feel after that… Even all the doctors I've been seeing are so done with me, they’ve got other problems to worry about. All these anomalies cropping up and I just have a normal condition, so now I just feel like I've gotten lost in the shuffle and won't ever get out of it.

“I’m only even in the hospital right now because I got so tired of it, so sick of feeling like I can’t do anything for myself and being a burden to everyone I know. All I wanted to do was go to the local corner store on my own... I didn’t tell my mom because I knew she’d fret over it, I just left and I thought I was doing okay, I knew the way to go by heart and I had my cane and I thought I saw that the light was red for the cars, but I fucked up again, and now my mom has to deal with even more medical bills and worrying about her stupid son who she’s always going to need to take care of because I’m a pathetic piece of shit.”

I'm out of breath now, dizzy from the unexpected tirade. For a second I think I might start crying, but I choke the tears back down, if for no other reason than to not feel like a child yet again. I keep my face downcast but turn my eyes back up to Naomi. Her mouth is pressed into a tight line and she’s holding very still.

“I don't want to fuck this up too,” I murmur, hoping it's not already too late for that. “So it’s probably better if I keep my distance, okay?”

There's a moment of silence as we're both reeling from the fact that I've strung more words together in under a minute than I usually do in ten. I wasn't yelling or anything, but the emotional timbre of my voice during all that must have been jarring too.

But then, to my surprise, Naomi smiles a little. At least, that's what I see her mouth doing at first. I anticipate she might be about to try and diffuse the situation the same way everyone else does, trying to reassure me or spin this in a positive way somehow. But the longer I look her in the eye, the more I realize that her smile is a pained one. A purely empathetic one.

“That sucks, Cameron,” she says simply with a nod of her head. “That really fucking sucks.”

And now that it's all out of me, leaving me feeling empty, I'm hit by a pang of shame, and not just because of the fact that I lost my composure. Just look who I'm talking to. What right do I have to complain to her?

I mutter in protest, “It's nothing compared to what you’ve been throu–”

“Stop,” she says firmly, “You don’t need to downplay it. I don’t want to be your rival here. Just your friend.”

A girl of many words, and yet she only needs a few of them to stop me in my tracks. And now the catharsis is settling. Without quite realizing it, I had been holding all of that in for a long time. Always regretting, always wishing that none of this has happened to me, feeling alone and ashamed and so goddamned hopeless.

But now, for the first time in the past six long months, I finally truly feel seen. My friends, my family… my mom… They try. They really do, and I should be thankful that I have people who care about me, even when I feel like I don't deserve it. But this is different. Naomi isn't trying to fix anything. She's not just trying to reassure me that everything will be okay… And I didn't realize how much I needed that.

For a few moments we’re in silence as she patiently waits for me to pull myself back together. I curse under my breath as despite myself there’s moisture gathering in my eyes. I rub away at it with the heel of my hand, forcing a self conscious chuckle.

“How do you do it?” I ask with a still-unsteady voice. “How are you so, like… cheerful? It's like your condition doesn't even bother you.”

She laughs, and I find comfort in the way her face lights up again. “You’ve known me for less than a day. You didn’t see me six months ago. I promise you, I was less than cheerful.”

And I laugh too, at my own dumb comment. “Right…”

Naomi’s expression softens and she waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about all this. We can call the nurses to take me back to my room, I’m not going to pressure you into anything. But… if it’s okay, do you think you could still… give me your hand? You really look like you could use a hug right now.”

My shoulders droop with my wistful exhale. I do wish that was possible. I'm not even sure what she means by that exactly… I'm suddenly reminded of Danni again, of when we were younger, her arms outstretched towards me if something ever went wrong. She gave the best hugs.

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” I respond softly, almost as if talking to myself.

I notice the shrunken girl’s figure is now sliding backwards along the tabletop, making me straighten up as her movement catches my attention. “Here,” she says, “I’ll scoot back. There’s plenty of space.”

I hesitate a few seconds longer as I imagine myself reaching out and bumping the table, or whacking into her again. It really shouldn't happen if I'm careful… If I just take it slow…

My hand trembles slightly as I extend my arm. I decide to touch the underside of the table, so it doesn't matter how far back I go, and then I trail my fingertips back towards me until I reach the edge of the wood. I glance to Naomi, to where her too-small knees are resting, as if trying to manifest better depth perception out of pure will. With the hope that I don't look too intimidating from her perspective, I creep my fingers onto the top of the table, sliding them forward ever so slowly, keeping my eyes fixed on the gap that I'm closing.

I gasp quietly and freeze in place at the feeling of warm, tiny hands on my index finger. “I'm here,” Naomi soothes, having suddenly reached out to meet me.

I focus on her face again, anchoring myself into the present moment. Her touch sends a not-unpleasant shiver up my spine and truly hammers in the reality of what she is. I had pet hamsters as a kid, and I'm somewhat reminded of the sensation of their little paws, but the fact that she's human, that she's a person just like I am, makes this moment feel incredibly distinct. Her dainty fingers are like a feather’s kiss against my skin, but there's also a surprising strength there as she leans forward and fully wraps her arms around the digit, the miniscule bump of her chin resting against a finger joint.

“Not too bad, right?” she asks as she beams up at me.

Downright adorable is what it is.

At first all I can do is hold incredibly still, just letting her embrace me in the only way she's able. I’m hit with a pang of sadness as she closes her eyes and tugs at my hand to further envelop my finger into her grip. I have a feeling that, even before she lost her height, hugging might have been the main way she showed affection. I think this gesture is just as much for her as it is for me.

With a deep breath I close my eyes too, turning this into a purely tactile experience. I want to have a better understanding of her miniature form in a 3D space, and so I fall into my habit of “seeing” with my hands. Keeping my index in place, I slide the rest of my fingers forward, and my middle finger brushes against Naomi's back.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to get a general sense…” I mutter, self conscious about the fact that this might unintentionally be a bit intimate.

“You’re good,” she says as I feel her chin lift back up.

I slide my finger around ever so gently against the smooth fabric of her shirt, across the small of her back, up along the subtle bump of her spine until I feel her shoulders. I can sense how alive she is at every moment, from the heat of her body to each little breath that she takes. She giggles as I reach the top of her head, lightly mussing up her hair in the process.

With a smile I open my eyes again and relent my exploration, pulling away until we're back to just my forefinger being our one point of contact. Naomi's staring at me intensely as she grips me. She's got a very pointed look in her eyes.

Urgh. I know exactly what she's thinking.

“You’re not giving up, are you?” I whisper.

She smirks playfully. “You catch on fast.”

I’m still very anxious at the thought of trying to lift her off the table. But after everything else my resolve is wavering.

“You're absolutely sure?” I urge, “You seriously want to take this risk?”

“I truly think you're more capable than you realize… You might just need to prove it to yourself.” Naomi releases her now-near-death grip on me and sits back on her heels. “Again, nothing you're not comfortable with but… we can just try baby steps? And if it's ever too much, we stop.”

I blow out one long exhale, as if releasing any pent-up steam that's left. And at long last I relent. “Alright. Talk me through it.”

My little friend grins and scoots sideways before shoving lightly at the edge of my thumb. “Flip your hand over,” she orders, and I do so, slowly pivoting in place at the wrist. And before I know it she's climbing aboard, as confident and trusting as anything. I marvel at the feeling of her limbs causing gentle pressure as she crawls to the center of my palm and then takes a cross-legged seat.

“Ta da! Look at that. You’re holding me,” she exclaims with her arms up in the air in celebration. “How’re you doing? Feel okay?”

For a moment I let my eyes shut again so that I can go back to focusing wholly on the physical sensations, and it strikes me just how much I need to concentrate. “You barely weigh a thing…” I murmur.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” she says, as casually as if I’d told her she had a unique name. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna get launched into the stratosphere if you try to lift me up.”

“Stop reading my mind,” I chuckle. Here's hoping that my laughing doesn't shake her too much. I feel like every micro movement must be jarring.

Naomi lifts up onto her knees, looking as if she’s gauging something. “Actually, here, my leg isn’t that messed up… I can climb up to your shoulder.”

“W-what?!” I startle at the suggestion.

“Just hold still?” she says, already starting to crawl towards my wrist.

I get swept up in her self-assured demeanor and don't give myself the opportunity to second guess it. “Okay…”

And then all I can really do is become a statue as I quickly lose track of the tiny figure - I just feel her hands and feet as she swiftly makes her way up my arm the second I give consent. Thankfully there isn't too much of a slope but still, I'm impressed by how quickly she moves. My forearm lights up with goosebumps from the tickle of her passing over the inside of my elbow. Soon I'm feeling particularly self conscious as she gets so incredibly close that I can hear her faintly labored breathing approaching my left ear. And then I stop sensing her skin against mine when she meets the sleeve of my hospital gown, there's just her minute shifting weight until she reaches my shoulder. I glance sidelong at her and briefly get a good look of her smiling my way. My tunnel of vision doesn't encircle anything past her face, but I can still see her whole face, even though she's just a couple of inches away… So surreal.

And then Naomi ducks out of sight as she comes too close to my neck for me to see her easily, and I feel her limbs against my skin once more. She hunkers down on the inside of the hospital gown’s collar, grunting with satisfaction as she takes a seat.

“There we go!” she exclaims, “Still doing okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” I'm still not budging, and I'm afraid of speaking or even breathing in her direction, as if I might blow her over or hurt her eardrums.

“You can talk normally,” she giggles, and then she adds, “Ahhh crap.”

“What's wrong?” I mutter.

“I forgot my bag on the table. Hey, you want to try grabbing it for me?”

“Uhhhh…” I briefly scan the tabletop, but it's a sea of grayish brown. “You're gonna have to help me.”

“Like piloting a mech! Hehe. Okay, move your hand slightly to the left… A little further back… There, did you feel that?”

Her knapsack is so small that it takes a few attempts of my fingers running over what feels like an oversized lump of lint until I manage to pinch it into my grasp. Hopefully there's nothing fragile in there.

I lift my hand up to my shoulder mindfully - this would be a particularly bad time to knock my friend clean off of me. I pin my wrist against my chest, and Naomi is able to reach from there to extricate her parcel from my grip.

“You rocked that!” she cheers before reclaiming her seat, her voice practically musical with her enthusiasm. She is having way too much fun with this.

“If I didn't know better,” I say with a smirk, “I might think you left that behind on purpose.”

“Good thing you know better then,” she teases and gives my neck a playful shove. “Alright. You want to try standing up?”

“…Not really?”

“Cameron, you could literally fall over and I’d be fine. That exact thing has happened before, I know I can hang on. Just pretend I'm not here.”

I can't decide on whether that anecdote is more reassuring or alarming. I'm curious about what happened, I'll have to ask her later. But for now… Moment of truth.

I’m quite stiff as I slowly start shifting to the side, insanely aware of the way Naomi has to constantly redistribute her weight as I move. Though maintaining her balance does seem like it's second nature to her… The IV pulls at my arm so I renegotiate the way the tubes hang. I swing one leg over the side of the bed, then the other, finding my footing on the cold floor.

“Going up,” I mutter.

“You've got this,” Naomi adds.

I push into my legs, my entire abdomen briefly complaining from the effort of my rising. I reflexively reach for the nearby IV pole, and while I don't have any difficulty finding it, I make the mistake of putting too much weight on it. I slip.

I fall a few inches as the wheeled pole rolls away from me, and I catch myself on the portion of the bed that's tilted up, my fingers digging into the mattress. My curse comes out in a hiss as my heart rate skyrockets.

“You’re okay, you’re okay!” Naomi says quickly, like she’s just my physical therapist taking me through some exercises.

“I’m not worried about if I’m okay,” I growl, and I use the bed this time to balance myself as I finally finish standing. I look down and to the side, worriedly trying to catch sight of my tiny passenger.

“Oh. I’m okay too,” she laughs, clearly unperturbed.

That's good. I just stand there for several moments, trying to settle my nerves and adjust to the feeling of being on my feet. Overall, though… This is reassuring. Naomi didn't go flying, those little hands really are able to hold on tight. Maybe I can try taking just a couple of steps…

I give her a warning before I slowly test out my legs again, one hand rolling the IV pole along while the other trails against the side of the bed in case I fall again. The pain in my abdomen recedes as I get into a groove, my whole body settling into a dull ache after having spent so much time sedentary. Just one foot in front of the other.

“There you go,” Naomi says encouragingly, and then she quickly cuts in with, “Oh wait, stop.”

I freeze in place, not even risking putting my foot down into my next step. “What is it?” I fret helplessly.

“Nothing, but you’re about to knock against something with your IV. Bring it slightly towards you… No, like to the left but a bit further back… Yeah, like that. And then get ready to move more to the right soon, so that you don’t hit the bathroom door…”

And so, awkwardly, we start cooperating as I continue taking slow steps. Without my cane I'm reflexively holding my IV pole ahead of me to help sense my way, but I'm mostly just relying on Naomi’s direction right now. And although it takes much longer than it would for an average person, I successfully make the journey to the other side of the room. I spot the bright colors of what must be some kind of medical poster, and when I reach out, my fingertips make contact with a wall.

“Hell YES!” Naomi whoops, kicking her legs against my shoulder in excitement.

“We made it,” I mutter in disbelief. Since I've lost my vision I have literally never walked across a new space without tripping over something midway.

And then before I know it, we’re heading back in the other direction. A gentle coaching at my ear. One step after another. The slightest bit faster this time. Bit by bit, until I can reach out and touch the hospital bed once more.

I'm still walking with one finger trailing on the mattress when I suddenly feel a warmth against my neck. Naomi has scooted a bit closer to me to lean against it with a sigh. “That makes me happy,” she says.

“That we’re almost back across?” I ask, glancing in her direction.

“No. Just that your shoulder's finally unclenched.”

And there’s the other wall. I touch it, staring wide-eyed down towards my feet, still struggling to take in the relative ease with which I just crossed the room despite no one holding onto my arm.

Naomi gently strokes the side of my neck before she sits back up again. “Okay, you want to put me down again?” she offers, her voice tinged with disappointment. “If you want you can drop me back off at my own room right now so that we can be done.”

Oh. Right. After getting caught up in what felt like learning how to walk for the first time, I'd stopped thinking about what we were even doing this for.

“Actually…” I say sheepishly, turning my head towards my unconventional guide. “Do you think you can help me fill my water cup first?”

I can hardly believe it myself just how much and how quickly I've come around on this new experience, and my enthusiasm is only matched by hers. We spend another twenty minutes together, practicing this new way of navigating the world. Naomi’s also finding her own rhythm, and soon we get accustomed enough to it that she doesn't need nearly as many words to direct me. We're able to continue chatting about everything and nothing as I not only obtain more water but also get myself a snack from my backpack in the corner, and then tidy some of my mom’s belongings for when she comes back to visit tonight.

But my weakened body eventually begins feeling quite sore, and we also start worrying that someone should be coming by pretty soon to check my vitals again. This has been great and all, but the idea of actively trying to hide my shrunken friend somewhere is probably a step too far for me. And so we make one last trip, this time to the exit.

“Hand out,” Naomi directs, “Door handle’s to the left… left… down…”

“Got it.” I lower my voice as I open the door and peer out into the hallway. According to the better pair of eyes at my shoulder, the coast is clear. Furtively I head down a couple of doors, keeping one hand on the wall.

I'm frankly sad that our hangout is coming to an end. This was so… so nice. The way we've been able to get around symbiotically is exciting, for sure, and I find myself imagining what it might be like to have my own little private navigation system all the time. But more than anything else, I've really enjoyed our conversations. I like her, and I'd like to get to know her better. I'll have to come back and visit once I'm out of the hospital. Maybe I could even end up taking her on an outing or something so she can get some fresh air. I wonder… I wonder if she might ever be open to–

“I've been thinking,” the voice at my ear suddenly pipes up as I walk. It snaps me out of my reverie about what it might be like to have a miniature roomate, since her tone has gone uncharacteristically serious. “About what you said earlier. About how it seems like I'm not bothered by my condition.”

I grimace at my own faux pas from earlier and quickly say, “Sorry, I wasn't thinking at all when I–”

“No no, it's just, I'm realizing… that you might be right?” she interjects avidly, “Like, obviously I’d much rather be my old self again. Being this small sucks. But from the beginning I was told that this is almost certainly permanent. And after some time, I accepted it. My friends would get really frustrated with me - they'd tell me not to give up hope, that the doctors would find a cure, that I'll be able to go back to my normal life one day… But they didn't understand.”

At this point my fingers have already passed over the bump of the doorway that is our destination. But I've paused so I can listen, craning my neck back to look down at Naomi.

She’s smiling as widely as ever. “They didn’t get that me accepting my reality wasn’t me giving up. Quite the opposite, actually... I think that's how I ‘do it.’” She shrugs. “It’s the only advice I’ve got.”

I smile back. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Thanks for helping me feel useful today, Cameron.”

“Yeah… Right back atcha. Thanks for the visit.”

I open the door to her room, hoping that I'm not bothering the other patient here, but from the sound of snoring coming from by the window I think we're okay. Naomi directs me to the shelf that's to the immediate left, and after I feel around I find what I surmise is her “shoebox,” a clear plastic tank of sorts. I raise my free hand up to my shoulder in invitation, anchoring my pinkie against my collar bone.

Naomi slides off her perch, stepping lightly into my palm, and asks, “You’ll be okay getting back?”

There's no arm bridge this time, I have to do this myself. But I’m not feeling nearly as panicked now. Slowly I lower my hand along my body, tiny girl in tow, as I respond, “Yeah, I'll be fine. I feel good.”

“You've got this,” Naomi says enthusiastically before I sense her warm weight hop off of my hand again and onto the shelf. “See you tomorrow!”

If this were any other friend, my reply might have poked fun at the expression. But I realize, as my tunnel of vision perfectly encircles the grinning face below me, that for the first time in a long while I'm able to give a completely genuine response.

“See you then.”



****

I was taking a break from writing Out of their Element with all the crazy life happenings going on, when I was suddenly inspired to write this story that's been bouncing around in my head for a little while. It was such a pleasure and the perfect way to stretch out those writing muscles again~ (and while I'm still insanely busy and the progress is slow, the momentum really has spilled over to Oote too so hooray!) Also, a huge thank you to my friend and sensitivity reader on this :)

By the way, I made an AO3 account at this point and it's starting to be too many places to update to haha - I think I'll still post the last part to Oote on this forum to finish it out whenever that's ready, but otherwise you can find my future stuff on my Deviantart - https://www.deviantart.com/littlest-lily

[Raso719]

This story made me cry. Literally. It's so beautiful.

I wanted someone to save me from my darkness this past week. I didn't get my happy ending. Probably never will.

[Nropyub]

Great story, Lily. You really are one of our best. Look forward to whatever you put out next and I’m going to frequent your DA link.

This story made me cry. Literally. It's so beautiful.

I wanted someone to save me from my darkness this past week. I didn't get my happy ending. Probably never will.

You alright dude? Need to talk about it?

[Raso719]

Great story, Lily. You really are one of our best. Look forward to whatever you put out next and I’m going to frequent your DA link.

This story made me cry. Literally. It's so beautiful.

I wanted someone to save me from my darkness this past week. I didn't get my happy ending. Probably never will.

You alright dude? Need to talk about it?

I'm better. Was a rough week....