Resurgence of the Fallen Commander

Episode 8

The hospital had been a whirlwind of treatments, with Jack always nearby, but George had never truly shared a room with the patient before. This fleeting thought came to mind as George reached out and touched the fabric of the sofa. A strange warmth met his fingertips, a sensation unmistakably alive.

The realization hit George suddenly, unfamiliar both in this life and the last. For a moment, he hesitated, hand lingering on the blanket, shifting it with a doubtful shake. “Hey... you…”

George’s voice was quiet, yet incredibly, the tightly cocooned blanket quivered, and he took the chance to peel it back—

The patient’s soft golden hair lay tousled, his head tucked into the folds, revealing only a distinct profile. His lips pressed tightly, eyelashes fluttering with unease. His breath was ragged, pain coursing through each intake, but vibrantly alive, like a wounded wolf temporarily at rest—undeniably present.

George clenched the blanket tighter, waiting for the shiver at his spine to subside. In the urgency of rescuing him, this realization hadn’t struck. Now, looking at the patient settled on his sofa, it felt overwhelming—like a cat treacherously aware of a beast intruding its territory.

During George’s dazed moment, the patient flinched from a wound, turning to lay flat. The sofa was small, and in shifting, he seemed to close in on George, body warmth and rustling sounds seeping through the blanket. George inexplicably felt nudged by a wolf, a delicate tremor rising from his core.

Swallowing, George let the blanket slip from his hand, covering the patient completely. He took a seat by the sofa’s edge, exchanging a puzzled glance with the nearby R2-D2.

“What do we do now?” R2-D2 looked up, seeming a bit lost about the new addition to their household, “Do we just leave him?”

“I’m not sure,” George admitted, his expression pensive. “What do you think we should do?”

This question was too hefty for a droid with such limited cognitive capacity, so it tapped into the internet, seeking advice far and wide.

“Searching the web… How to care for a stray patient… What to do with a new unexpected household member…”

Suggestions zipped by on a small screen, and R2-D2 ultimately condensed them into—“Check his health, feed and provide warmth, facilitate recovery, and ensure proper care!”

It delivered this with an earnest fervor, words echoing with conviction. Silence enveloped the room.

“…”

George covered half his face with his hand, taking a deep breath before speaking painstakingly, “… You should connect to the internet less often, especially avoiding strange websites.”

“Okay.” R2-D2 agreed obediently, disconnecting from the web despite the confusion.

Finally, George exhaled deeply, deciding to let things unfold naturally—what to do about the patient could wait until he awoke. Sending R2-D2 to recharge, he activated his smart assistant on his wrist.

George pondered for a moment, scrolling through his list to find a name.

A soft ping indicated a message received.

“【Amy: Hello, sir! How can I assist you? [heart] [heart] [heart]】”

This was from the owner of a local clothing store where George had once shopped. Initially, the business was small and struggling, but after purchasing some garments, the store earned its fame, likened to a supermarket mascot, attracting wide attention and sales. Now, it was a renowned brand.

“【Amy: We’ve just updated our stock with new arrivals and have put together a package for you, which should arrive tomorrow!】”

Indeed, each season brought new offerings, and after much persistence, George had managed to narrow the deliveries down from nearly a hundred items to just a few select ones.

“【George: Do you have any soft men’s sleepwear?】”

Despite the odd combination—a request for soft men’s apparel in a small remote town—the shop owner didn’t pry.

“【Amy: Feel free to send the sizes, and we can tailor a few pieces for you~】

“【Amy: Here are some attractive designs you might like! [image] [image] [image]…】”

Even though the images were blurred at first glance, something seemed off. George hesitated, clicked on the first image...

What he saw was an ensemble with wolf ears and tails, paired with a leather choker, frontless and backless... nightwear. His hand slipped to the next image—a title standing out in flowing script: "Large Lure Black Lace Nightdress (Extra Tearable Edition)."

George closed his eyes momentarily, inhaling deeply.

“【George: I’m not looking to buy this type of nightwear.】”

“【Amy: [blushing] Apologies, sir! Misunderstood you there. Here are some more traditional options, [image] [image] [image]…】”

These were decidedly more regular. George scanned through them, intending to choose the simplest fleece option, maybe in gray or black. Yet as he lingered, inexplicably, he circled a set adorned with white fluffy patches and little tongue-out puppies, “Um… This one, I think.”

He picked a few more and sent over the sizes that R2-D2 had just measured.

George automatically reached to transfer payment but recalled that Amy had disabled account transactions on his part and pulled back.

“【George: Thank you, appreciate the help.】”

“【Amy: You’re too kind! The clothes are expedited and should reach by tomorrow noon. Please remember to sign for them~ [smile]】”

Switching tabs, he bought a selection of everyday items—like toothbrushes, toothpaste, towels, and slippers—ready to be used at any time. He organized the hospital-given medications into easily accessible categories.

After setting everything up, the patient remained serenely asleep. Compared to a stray pup who might cause chaos, he was effortlessly low-maintenance.

George patted the child’s blanket softly, mulling over the day’s events as he opened his laptop to cancel the leave he'd earlier taken for the afternoon. Raising a child, even unforeseen circumstances, proved costly. With his savings running thin, work remained a necessity. He couldn't let a heavily injured patient go hungry.

When the hospital administered various treatments, Jack was constantly at his side but never fully shared the patient’s room. That realization dawned upon George while absent-mindedly touching the sofa’s fabric—a peculiar warmth radiated through, the touch unmistakably belonging to another living being.

George paused, momentarily stunned by the unfamiliar sensation, a stark contrast to anything experienced in his past life or present. It took several moments, during which he tightened his grip on the blanket, voice unsure yet soft, “Hey… you…”

George’s voice was barely audible, yet it was enough to cause the tightly curled blanket to shift slightly. Seizing the opportunity, George lifted the blanket—

Revealing a head of tousled golden hair, belonging to the patient, with his face partially buried, revealing only part of a strong profile and tightly set lips, eyelashes fluttering in distress. He breathed with difficulty, the excruciating pain apparent, but his existence was undeniable, vibrant, like a wolf resting from its wounds—remarkably alive.

George clutched the blanket tighter, awaiting the spine-chilling sensation to pass. Urgency had downplayed the peculiarity earlier, but now, having brought the patient home to his sofa, felt overbearing—like a cat keenly aware of a beast within its territory.

As George remained lost in thought, the patient, perhaps pained by his wound, instinctively switched to lying flat. The smallness of the sofa made it impossible not to brush against George, body warmth and the sound of rustling blankets compelling an image of faintly being nudged by a wolf.

His throat convulsed, the blanket slipping from his grip once more to cover the patient entirely. George settled on the couch’s edge, sharing a baffled exchange with R2-D2 nearby.

“What should we do now?” R2-D2 looked quizzically, seeming uncertain towards the newly added member, “Shall we just ignore him?”

“I’m not sure.” George, bewildered, replied candidly, “What do you think we ought to do?”

This burdened question overwhelmed the small droid's processing capabilities, prompting it to connect to the internet, seeking counsel.

“Searching the network... What to do when adopting a patient... How to care for a stray patient...”

The screen flashed with numerous answers before R2-D2 succinctly summarized—“Assess health, provide sustenance and warmth, facilitate recovery, and ensure vigilant care!”

It declared passionately, its words echoing insistently in the room’s hush.

“…”

Hand over half his face, George inhaled deeply before laboriously advising, “…It might be prudent to refrain from excessive internet access, especially from peculiar sites.”

“Understood.” Though confused, R2-D2 complied, disconnected as advised.

Eventually, sighing the tension out, George resolved to let nature take its course concerning the patient—actions would be delayed until he awoke. R2-D2, he directed to recharge; meanwhile, accessing a smart assistant on his wrist.

Going over a list, George identified a name, reached out with a succinct greeting.

“【Amelia: Hello, sir~ How might I be of service today? [heart] [heart] [heart]】”

This contact emerged from a prosperous local clothier. George had once patronized a modest shop, noting Amelia, persevering against the tide until recognition expanded her small venture into a thriving apparel enterprise, becoming renowned.

“【Amelia: We have just released new collections and have dispatched a parcel for you, expected to arrive tomorrow~】”

Since then, each seasonal update inevitably arrived, though George had nearly halved the deliveries following persistent refusals.

“【George: Are there soft men's pajamas among your stock?】”

A peculiar request, given the size and setting—a small, remote town—yet the shopkeeper asked no questions of him.

Amelia's prompt response outlined available services.

“【Amelia: Please send your preferred sizes, and custom tailoring can commence~】

“【Amelia: Here are some preferred designs—consider if any catch your fancy! [image] [image] [image]…】”

Despite initial unclear imagery, George discerned something amiss—clicking hesitantly on the foremost picture—

An outfit of wolf ears and tail, accented by a leather collar, sparse yet sultry nightwear. He inadvertently slipped to a consecutive image—flowing phrased advertising a “Plus-size Temptation Black Lace Nightdress (Easily Tearable Version).”

Eyes shut tight, George inhaled deeply before addressing plainly.

“【George: Not the kind of sleepwear I am seeking.】”

“【Amelia: [blushing] My apologies, sir! Misunderstanding marketed. Here are the conventional choices, [image] [image] [image]…】”

George, scanning through perceivable options, paused over the simplest plush design, perhaps in gray or black, before inexplicably selecting a design with canine-tongued patterns, “Maybe... this one.”

After deliberation, shipped forth were several more, accompanied by R2-D2 measured sizes.

Instinctively enacting a transaction, George recalled Amelia's prior declinations of account acceptance and halted.

“【George: Many thanks, appreciate the assistance.】”

“【Amelia: You’re welcome! Expedited delivery ensures arrival by tomorrow noon—awaiting your signature~ [heart]】”

Revisiting the shopping interface, a simple accumulation of necessities followed; toothbrushes, toothpaste, towels, slippers—for unanticipated yet immediate utility. George organized provided medications in accessible order.

Everything set, the presence of the patient—providing less disturbance than a stray pup—granted George reprieve, manifesting useful outlets of patience and consideration.

Solutions awaited, George’s decision reaffirmed by the gentle patting across the blanket, subsequent to the morning’s delay in notifying workplace absence. Such altruistic undertakings bore startling financial realities, elevating the importance of diligence in labor to ensure adequate provision under circumstances unforeseen.