Achilles opened his eyes and let out a long groan. Annoying lights shone down on him, and he was wearing a light gown. A couple machines were attached to him, and he recognized these walls.
He was back in the hospital.
The last thing he remembered was...
Yes, Phantasma. She'd tricked him into meeting her, then used her Miracle to try and kill him. He didn't even want to remember what that had felt like. But all he remembered was pain after that.
So how had he gotten here?
Achilles sat up and peeled off the heart monitor and whatever else was attached to him. Nothing could penetrate his skin, so everything was just taped or clamped on. Easy enough to remove. Next was testing his muscles.
He swung his legs off the bed and tried standing. His legs worked perfectly fine. A few swings of his arms confirmed that they were good too. With a few more stretches, he confirmed that he didn't seem to be injured at all.
Good. That meant he could get out of here.
As he looked for his clothes, that tyrannical nurse walked in.
"I see you're up. That's good, but please don't take off the monitors until we're ready to release you." He tried guiding Achilles back to the bed, but he resisted.
"No thanks. I'm good to go. Where'd you put my clothes?"
"I'm not telling you that until you let a doctor check you over one last time. Jumper and Lightning were pretty worried about you."
Jumper and Lightning. That must be how he got out of there. They'd come and taken out Phantasma. But then, why had they been able to when he couldn't? He was the main hero here!
The Legion meeting was soon, so he'd just have to swallow his pride and ask them then.
"Achilles?" The nurse was staring at him with a frown on his face, tablet in hand.
"I'm fine, Mr. Nurse Man."
"Alec."
"Whatever." The nurse sighed in annoyance.
"Stay here. I'll get the doctor for you."
"Is it the same one as last time?"
"No. Dr. Wood is more of a generalist, while Dr. Meyers specializes in the respiratory system. Don't worry, she'll take good care of you." With that, the nurse left and shut the door behind him.
When Achilles tried the handle, he found that it was locked. Damn.
Next step: Search this room. He checked under the bed (spotless), in the small dresser (empty), in the bathroom (completely sterile from the smell of it), the closet (containing only a spare hospital gown) and behind the TV (just cables).
By the time he'd flopped back onto the bed with a groan, the door was unlocked and opened by an unfamiliar woman in a doctor's uniform.
"Mr. Achilles. My name is Dr. Wood. If you don't mind, I'd like to get a look at you once more before we release you."
"Where'd my clothes go?"
"Alec considers you a flight risk, so he confiscated them again. They'll be returned when we're ready to release you."
Him? A flight risk? No, these were the ones holding him back! He needed to be out there, fighting crime and saving people. It was just wrong for these hospital folks to detain him. Was he a criminal? No! So why was he being imprisoned?
"Breathe deeply for me please." The doctor was pulling a stethoscope off her shoulders, preparing to listen to his lungs or something.
Achilles obliged, figuring that the sooner this got over with, the sooner they'd let him go. If they didn't let him go after this, he might have to start swinging his fists or something. There was nothing wrong with him!
"Good. Heart and lungs sound fine. Now I'll take your blood pressure."
A seeming barrage of tests followed. Achilles endured each one, waiting impatiently for the mess to be over. Finally, Dr. Wood stepped back and nodded, pressing a button on a pager as she did.
"You look like the picture of health, I'm glad to say. I'll get Alec to bring your things back and you'll be good to go." As Achilles stood, Dr. Wood motioned for him to wait. "The only caveat is we'd like you to see Dr. Lopez again this week. And every week for the foreseeable future."
"Not her," Achilles groaned.
"Please. We just want to make sure you're healthy. Rosalia's one of our best."
"She's a pain."
"Then we can assign you a different psychiatrist."
"I don't need a psychiatrist! I'm fine!" Achilles glared at Dr. Wood.
"Then we might have to keep you here longer, Mr. Achilles." He hadn't noticed that tyrant nurse come in with a box of stuff. His stuff.
"Alec..." Dr. Wood looked mildly perturbed by the nurse's attitude, but Achilles sighed in defeat.
"Fine. I'll be here at 9:45 on Wednesday."
"Excellent. Then we will see you tomorrow." The nurse smiled brightly as he handed Achilles his box of stuff.
"Wait, it's not Monday?"
"You were out for about 36 hours, Mr. Achilles. We suspected based on Jumper and Lightning's testimony that the stress was entirely mental, so after thoroughly checking for physical ailments we decided that if nothing looked off when you woke up, we'd release you immediately. Until then, we had to keep an eye on you in case Phantasma's illusion had some secondary effect." Alec delivered the entire speech in such a business-like manner it made Achilles' head spin.
"Sorry to spring that on you," Dr. Wood chuckled. "I probably should have told you that when I first came in here, but Alec said you'd want to be out of here as soon as possible."
"Now I'll let Dr. Lopez know that she has a new appointment tomorrow," the nurse said as he left. Dr. Wood followed momentarily.
Achilles looked through the box and found everything he'd had when Phantasma had ambushed him. At least nobody was stealing his stuff. Unfortunately, the cloth seemed to be a bit damaged from some unknown source. The outfit smelled like it had been washed, so there was no trace of whatever had damaged it, but the whole thing was just another annoyance.
How dare they wash his custom uniform!
And what the heck had damaged it? He'd have to go back to Louise and request a replacement. When he put it on, he figured that the outfit would do for now, but if there was a way for his clothes to get damaged, he'd need replacements.
The detergent smell on the uniform was unfamiliar and unpleasant. Like a hospital gown. Oh. They probably washed it with the same stuff they used for the hospital laundry.
Achilles would have to specify from now on that his clothes were not to be washed here. He put on his mask and went out the door, which had been fortunately left unlocked.
