Treatment

Luke took Holly’s hand in both of his, studying her reaction. Holly closed her eyes immediately, and her breaths came faster and shallowly. She tensed like he had slapped her, and her eyes moved beneath her lids—slowly at first, then faster and faster. Luke silently counted the seconds she held on.

She drew in a sharp breath and pulled away, falling back against the wall. Her palms were wet with sweat that left marks on the stone; her eyes moved across the floor without taking anything in. Her breath came in short, panicked gasps.

Luke did not try to move toward her or help her. Instead, he spoke, his voice soft and calm. “Holly? Holly, can you hear me?”

She didn’t react to her name; her eyes still moved across the floor, focused on something Luke couldn’t see.

“Holly. I know it’s difficult, but you need to concentrate. You can hear me, can’t you?” Holly’s chin dipped in what might have been a nod. “Good. Tell me where you are.”

She swallowed. When she spoke, it was little more than a mutter. “The hospital. The—the king’s hospital.”

“Good. How old are you?”

She blinked a few times; the movement of her eyes slowed, and her focus came to her bare feet. “…Twenty-one.”

“Very good. What city do we live in?”

She wet her lips. Her voice was nearly to a normal tone. “Ferrel’s End.” She drew in another sharp breath.

“Excellent,” said Luke, still jotting down notes. He paused to smile at her. “You kept the contact for nearly three-quarters of a minute, and your recovery only took two. How do you feel?”

One hand drifted to her temple, but her eyes remained clear. “…Frightened. Like I always do. But my memory’s still—there. Not like usual. It wasn’t… too bad.” Luke watched her face, to double-check she wasn’t lying, but there was no faking the surprise in her voice.

Luke smiled again. “I’m glad to hear that. Can you tell me how you felt in the moment?”

Her eyes darkened. “That was still the same.” She tucked her arms around herself. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t me. Even when I let go of you, I couldn’t tell who I was. And your talking only made it worse—I couldn’t figure out how I could be you and hear you talking to me.” She swallowed. “The questions and answers helped, though. They were a map back to myself, just like you said.”

“That’s very good. Why don’t you sit down?” She nodded and took her place at the small round table. Luke sat across from her. “Can you still remember what you saw?”

“Of course I can.” Resentment lurked beneath her words. “That’s the problem. I can never forget, not really. Not like I’m supposed to.”

Luke waited until she relaxed to continue speaking. There was no point in antagonizing her. “Can you tell me about what you saw?”

For a moment, he thought she would refuse, as she often did. Then she nodded, though the resentment remained in her voice. “I was you, like I said.” Her eyes moved to a point over his shoulder. “I was standing next to the body of a much larger man. My nose was bleeding, and I had to pick the piercing out of my ear because he’d almost ripped it out. I spat on his body. The spit was red.”

Luke wrote the description down in shorthand. “What else?”

She sighed. “Then I was sitting next to Dexter. We were talking about one of his experiments, and I loved him, and it was embarrassing.”

“Anything else?” asked Luke.

Holly’s eyes narrowed, but this time it wasn’t in frustration. Her words came slowly, as though she had to figure out how to describe everything. “I was taking the pulse of a—monster.” Luke frowned, looking up from his tablet. Holly tossed her head. “I’m just telling you what I saw. It was taller than me, and it had human fingers but these teeth—” She broke off and brushed a hand over her face, as though to banish the image.

Luke’s hands tightened around his pen. “Holly. Are you sure that’s what you saw?” She shot him a look of pure disdain. “I need verbal confirmation because that—that has never happened to me.”

The disdain vanished. She retreated to the wall again. When she spoke, her voice was flat. “So you’re telling me that I’m not really getting control of this.”

“Holly—”

She continued without looking at him. “Instead of gaining any control over my powers, like you insist I am, they’re—changing. I can see the future again. Is that what you mean?” She drew in a deep breath. “I am no closer to getting out of this place than before. Is that what you mean?”

Luke bit the inside of his cheek before replying. He walked over to Holly’s side, though he did not touch her or even look her in the eye. Holly stared at her feet. Though she glared, her hands were shaking. “I know this is hard,” he whispered. “I hate to see it happening, and I’m sorry. You’ve been through too much. I wish I could just—wave a wand and make it all better. But this isn’t bad.” Her eyes snapped to his. “Holly, you need to look at this differently. You’re not cursed. You’re gifted, and—”

She moved away, her words dropping to a hiss. “So it’s my fault that I can’t get better? My fault that I can’t control myself?” She turned her back on him. “I never asked for this.”

Luke knew when he’d lost. There was no point trying to repair his words because she’d just tear more holes in them. “I’ll be back with your dinner later, all right?”

She pulled her sketchbook out of its hiding place beneath her bed with some force and bent over it, ignoring him with every inch of her body.

***

"Either I'm well enough to go out, or I'm not," said Holly, her eyes flashing. "Which is it?"

"Well—I mean—" Luke wrung his hands. "I would prefer if the going out wasn't at night."

Holly shook her head. A slump came into her shoulders, and she sighed. "I want out of this place, Luke. Just for a little while. But—during the day—" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "There'd be too many people around." She rubbed her arms.

"What do you even want to do at night?" said Luke, half-hoping searching for an answer would defeat her and hating himself for it.

Holly looked over her shoulder at her drawings, then at the bare stone wall, then at the tiny window that looked out on the hospital garden. "...There's always the city garden, isn't there?" she said, her voice very quiet. "They have flowers that bloom at night. Or has that changed too?" She brought one hand to her temple, and her eyes narrowed. "No. It hasn't. I saw it in your head."

Luke ignored the voice in his head that said he wanted nothing more than to go to bed and relax. "That would be lovely. Let's go."

***

Luke expected more—nerves from Holly, since this was her first trip outside since the incident, but she was almost as relaxed as usual. In other words, tense but not to the point of running away.

And the city did quiet down once the sun set. There was almost no one on the streets, and the gardens were empty—something you'd never see during the day. Holly pulled away from Luke so she could cup her fingers around one of the night-blooming flowers. It cast a gentle yellow glow on her gloves hands and made the sharp angles of her face softer.

Luke smiled. She really was making progress. If only—

A roar cut across his thoughts, somewhere on the other side of the hedge. His pulse jumping with fear, Luke thought of creatures he'd seen in the menagerie, and then he turned to Holly. She was frozen, her hands still cupped around the flower and her eyes wide with fear. Before either of them could move, another noise broke the night quiet—the unmistakable groan of a person in pain.

Holly dropped the flower, straightening up. Ordinarily, Luke would have liked the determination in her eyes—she so rarely showed emotion. But not when she was trying to cut through the hedge to get to the sound.

Luke caught her shoulder. "Let's go back to the hospital, Holly," he said, in his best "I'm the doctor, so you should listen to me" voice. "It's not safe."

Holly glared at him—really glared, her eyes full of life. "If my rescuer had said that, I would be dead on the pavement. I'm not letting it happen to anyone else." She cursed and broke into a run, her bare feet silent on the grass.

***

The creature lying on the grass couldn't be human. It had the right shape and the right number of limbs, and it was wearing breeches, but it was too large, and there was too much blood on the grass. It couldn't have bled that much and still be alive. Wasn't that how it worked?

Holly was kneeling by its side, a terrible look of recognition on her face. When she lifted her eyes to Luke's, everything came clear. "This is—what you saw. This—thing," said Luke.

Holly glared at him, but it was from fear, not animosity. "Can you fix it or not?"

Luke dropped to one knee instead of answering, his eyes already moving over the creature. His mind tried to fix on all the fur—thick and short, like a cougar's—or on the padded feet and hands, but he made himself concentrate on the wound. A crossbow bolt was embedded in its right shoulder, just missing its subclavian artery.

"This isn't good," Luke muttered. He tried to touch the creature's shoulder, to check for more wounds beneath the fur, but it stirred, flexing powerful muscles. Luke jerked back.

"I think I'll need help with this," said Luke, reaching in his pocket for the guard whistle.

***

Luke went to bed around two in the morning. Holly was tired, but she remained in the room. People died when you took your eyes off them. She’d only survived her own time because someone had watched her the whole way through.

She drew a bucket of water from the sink, along with a bar of their strongest soap, and started to wipe the blood and grime off the creature’s body. It watched her the whole time. Luke had tried to put it to sleep before he took the arrow out, but nothing worked. In the end, three people had held it down while he worked, even though it didn’t fight them.

It was strange. She could see a person in the face—and yet it was different at the same time. The shapes and proportions were right, but the eyes were too dark a green, and the pupils took up most of the iris. The lips were too wide, and no human could ever have fangs like that—two heavy incisors that hung down over its lower lip. Like fangs on the skull of a great dead cat she’d once seen in a museum.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said quietly, dabbing at the dirt on its paws. “It was my idea to save your life in the first place. Don’t act like I did it for a reason. I saw you in my head, and Luke says that’s important. I don’t think so, but I’m not the doctor, am I?” She couldn’t help the scorn in her voice.

Holly wondered if it could understand her. Surely it couldn’t speak, not with teeth like that. She was surprised it could even open its mouth, but it panted shallowly instead of breathing through its large nose.

She wasn’t sure if it knew her words, but it seemed to understand what she was doing: it turned, ponderously, onto its side so she could wipe the dirt off its back. Luke had already cleaned and shaved the area around its wound, revealing raw pink skin. Holly pressed her own dark hand against it for a moment, comparing the color.

Was there a person under there?

Of course not.

When she was finished, the water in the bucket was black, but the creature was clean. Except for its pants. Those were still dirty and tattered.

Holly put one hand on her hip, looking its body over as a complete thing instead of pieces. “I suppose I should stop thinking of you as ‘it,’ shouldn’t I?” she said, since the creature was obviously male.

It—he was still watching her, but he made no response.

Holly walked back to her seat. The creature watched her until she sat.

***

Holly woke because she smelled breakfast. She wasn’t usually hungry, but Luke hadn’t let her sleep in for a long time, either. Rubbing her forehead, she walked to the covered trays. There were four of them, which confused her.

Then she remembered the creature. She glanced over her shoulder and was unsurprised to see him watching her through the long hair that covered his face.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you staring is rude?” she told him, putting one hand on her hip. Maybe it was supposed to be a joke, since she still didn’t think he could understand her, but it came out rude. Everything always did.

She returned to the trays and opened them. Her breakfast—bland porridge and three slices of bacon—was under the first. She set it aside because the sight of it turned her stomach. The other three held steaks in various states, from raw to well-done. “Ugh.”

She glanced around for an aid, but no one was there to feed the creature. Her mouth twisted to the side. “All right,” she muttered. She took the raw meat and brought it over to the creature. The creature glanced at it and away, so Holly set it aside and brought over the rare steaks. The creature responded the same. At the sight of the cooked steaks, it sighed and rolled away from her.

Holly set the third tray on the floor and frowned at the creature’s back. “…Didn’t you hear what I said yesterday?” she said, after a moment. “Luke said this happened for a reason, and he is… more right than wrong, at least. And I found you, and I sat up with you, and that means I am not going to watch you starve yourself. You can’t be a vegetarian, not with those teeth. So what do you want to eat?”

No response from the creature. Holly scolded herself for speaking to it like a human and tucked her hands into her armpits, thinking. Why did she even bother?

Then she picked the slices of bacon off her plate and walked around so she could look the creature in the face. She knelt next to the bed and propped her elbows on it, her chin resting on one hand and the bacon in the other. The creature stared at the ceiling. Holly studied his face again. From this angle, she could almost see a man beneath the animal features—a strong jaw, a twice-broken nose. And he had normal ears, under all that hair.

“Luke is the one I saw taking care of you, not me,” she muttered, but she held out a piece of bacon anyway.

The creature sniffed it, but he turned his face away again.

Holly frowned, resting her head on the bed. “…I don’t like thinking about how much of a pain I must be. It isn’t pleasant. And you’re making me do it. Eat the damn bacon.”

Holly swore the creature’s eyes met hers, and they were confused, but he was looking at the ceiling before she could be sure.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Without realizing she was going to do it, she got to her feet and turned away, leaving the bacon on the bed.

“…I must seem nice to you. Saving your life and all. But I’m not. I’m a waste of space. Just ask anyone who works here. Almost a year since it—happened, and I haven’t changed at all.” She glared at the floor. “I didn’t save you because I’m nice. I had to, because someone else found me and they saved me. I can’t pay them back, so… you. I helped you. That’s all.”

She heard a rustle from the bed and glanced over her shoulder. The creature was sitting up. Though she had not thought he could have expressions—the look in his eyes was familiar, because it was the same face she saw staring back in the mirror. Obstinate. Disgusted.

“You understand me! I’m not just talking to myself! What is the matter with you?” Her voice came out too shrill because she was nervous. She hadn’t talked to anyone but Luke in—the entire time she’d been here.  She backed away.

The creature watched her for a long moment; she stared back, her breath coming in short gasps. Thank whatever lived in heaven that she hadn’t touched him with her bare hands. She didn’t want to know what could be behind those dark eyes.

Finally, the creature moved his eyes down to the bacon, then to his paw-like hands. He frowned, as though having to pull a memory out with his teeth, and his hands changed. They became human—good strong hands that, before growing fur, held the calluses and scars of honest, hard work. They still had short black claws.

Holly stared, feeling confused and a bit nauseous.

The creature ate all three strips of bacon. Then, carefully, he climbed off the bed, sat on the floor, and ate the raw steaks with his hands, licking the red juice from his claws as delicately as any cat.

***

Luke came back after the noon bell rang. That was plenty of time to leave them alone. They weren't really alone, of course; an aid had been behind the trick mirror the entire time, in case something went wrong.

When he came into the room, Holly was seated sideways on her chair in the corner, making sketches of the creature. A number of them lay on the floor, stacked neatly side by side. The creature was sitting against the side of the bed, staring at its hands. Which were not the same as they had been last night.

Luke decided not to notice this bit of oddness and walked over to the creature. "I'll need a look at that shoulder," he said, not because he was expecting an answer but because animals, like people, responded well to calm tones of voice.

The creature didn't move and kept its eyes away from Luke's.

"It's no good pretending you can't understand him," said Holly without looking up from her drawing. "Luke always knows when someone is lying." Her voice was a warning, but Luke wasn't sure if it was for her or the creature.

To Luke's surprise, the creature stood—all at once, like a mountain unfolding from the pages of a pop-up book. It was larger than it ought to be, and the size of its muscles made Luke nervous. But it hadn't hurt him before, and it had listened to Holly.

More importantly, Holly had spoken to the creature like—like she cared. He hadn’t thought her capable of that.

So Luke just folded his arms over his chest, smiling in the friendly-but-distant way they taught you in medical school. "Have a seat, then. There's no chance I'd be able to reach your shoulder from here."

The creature sat on the bed, resting its hands in its lap. Maybe Luke had just imagined they'd looked like cat paws.

Luke took off the bandage on the shoulder wound, feeling delicately for the magic still in the creature's system. The wound was no better, but at least it was no worse. Frowning, Luke replaced the bandage, putting stronger magic into it this time.

"What are you going to do with him now?" said Holly, when Luke was finished.

Luke started. Holly never spoke without being prompted, unless she was in a pet. "What do you mean?" said Luke, hoping he sounded like he wasn't startled at all.

Holly smeared the charcoal on the page with her thumb and stared at the black smudge on her fingertip. "You're not just going to leave him here, are you? Other people will need the room, sooner or later. And it's not like he can stay in my room." She scowled and smeared the charcoal on her fingertips over her latest drawing, then tossed the paper aside. "I doubt your husband would appreciate your bringing him home, either."

Luke pictured Dexter's face if he brought a monster home for supper and bit back a startled laugh. He hadn’t thought Holly could make him laugh, either. "Not hardly." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I hadn't thought of it yet."

"You think of everything." It was supposed to be cutting, but Luke caught a hint of respect as well, and it surprised him.

"Not everything." Luke put his hands on his hips. "Well, you're out of paper, so we might as well go back to your room to start. There'll be someplace I can put him." He didn't realize he'd used a pronoun until they were out of the room.

***

Luke left them alone, but Holly knew they weren't really by themselves. She'd tried to hurt herself her first night here, and Luke had known and stopped her. She couldn't be trusted with your own safety, so someone else had to look after it for her. Certainly, someone was watching them now, waiting to see if the creature would hurt her.

The thought of being watched galled her. She spent most of her time in the far corner of the room, holding her sketchbook up on her knees so no one else could see it. She knew it was reasonable, but it didn't mean she liked it.

Today, though, it irritated her more. Therefore, she sat down at the table in the center of the room and pointed at the chair across from hers. The creature sat and put his hands on the table, like he wanted to show her he wasn't going to do anything with them.

She was reading too much into it. There were all sorts of things in the world she didn't understand, but there was a line between a dog who understood a command and a person who understood her feelings. And it wasn't wise to speak to a dog like a human, or vice versa.

She drummed her fingers on the table. "...You can't talk, not with a mouth like that." She'd spent hours copying pictures out of Luke's anatomy books; she knew how human jaws and throats were different from a dog's, or even from a monkey's. "But you can nod or shake your head."

No response from the creature, though Holly thought he was sitting very still—just the way she did when she didn't want to answer a question. Or when she couldn't concentrate enough.

Holly leaned forward, raising her eyebrows. "Can't you?"

The creature met her eyes, just for a moment. Holly didn't look away, even though the eye contact bothered her just as much as it would if she were certain she was speaking to a person.

Then he gave the slightest of nods.

Holly's hands clenched as a thrill of fear went down her spine.

She cleared her throat. “It doesn’t count as a conversation if they can’t talk back,” she whispered, just loud enough that she could hear it. It didn’t help; she stood up and turned away, trying to push back the fluttery beat of her heart. She touched her throat and felt her pulse against her fingers, the sweat on her palm.

After a few deep breaths, she glanced over her shoulder at the creature. He was looking at her, and she turned away again. Her heart still pounded. “What, you think I’m in here because I like it? I’m ruined. Screwed up. However you want to put it.” She wanted her voice to be sharp, but it shook.

Of course Luke would come back at that moment. Holly didn’t think he’d been listening in on them, since he had a book under one arm and his nose in his notes, but she still cursed and retreated to her corner. Only with her knees against her chest could she breathe properly.

***

Luke glanced between Holly and the creature, wondering if it had hurt her. But it was just standing there. Holly was shaking all over, just the way she did after a session of probing her mind—but certainly—

Luke set the book down on the table and shuffled his notes into a neater stack, all the while watching Holly out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t tell if she knew he was watching or if she was too deep inside herself. It was about half and half these days.

“I brought you a book that might be of interest,” said Luke. “If nothing else, the illustrations are beautiful.”

Drawings were the first thing to bring her out. They roused no reaction this time, except perhaps to make her tighten her grip around her knees. And she’d been doing so wellearlier.

Maybe—if he left her alone—of course not.

Luke walked over to Holly’s chair, dropping to one knee. She pressed her face into the corner. “Holly? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Don’t speak to me like I’m a child.” Her voice was cold and forbidding.

Luke closed his eyes for a moment so he could remind himself that sitting calmly and patiently was his job . He was in charge of Holly’s treatment because he could hold his tongue and be quiet. He couldn’t think of it as a burden. “Is there anything you want?”

Holly shook her head.

Biting back a sigh, Luke got to his feet. He kept silent until he could speak properly. “Do you want to be left alone?”

She nodded, her fingers knotting in the hem of her skirt.

Luke got up. He glanced at the creature, but it was sitting meekly at the table. He picked up his notes and went to watch where Holly couldn’t see.

***

Luke wanted to respect Holly’s wishes to be left alone. He wanted to go somewhere else and not think about her for a while, so he could get back in the right frame of mind. He knew he’d been too resentful. But she was clearly vulnerable, and the creature had claws and teeth and obvious strength. Leaving them truly alone would just be reckless. Holly was a slip of a thing.

Chewing on his thumbnail, Luke watched Holly sit in the corner. She hid her face in her knees and moved her hands slowly up and down her legs. He thought she was trying to regulate her breathing, the way he’d taught her, but clearly it wasn’t working.

Maybe he ought to—

The creature rose from his chair. Luke got up as well, already moving toward the door in case he needed to rush inside and stop something. (Not that he was sure how he would, since he wasn’t any larger than Holly.)

Holly’s attention snapped to the creature; her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” Her voice was a low, threatening hiss.

The creature walked over to her and sat with its legs tucked up underneath it. It closed its eyes. Slowly, the great incisors that covered its lips shrank and disappeared. It was still covered in fine fur, and its hands and feet were still clawed—but you could almost sort of forget that without the teeth.

The monster looked up at Holly with shame in its eyes. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” it said in a low, clear voice.

***

Holly stared at the creature in shock. She could feel the heat coming off his body, just like when Luke touched her, and it made her shut her eyes and pull herself into a tighter ball. “Back off, then. I can’t think with anyone so close to me.” She wanted to snap, but it came out weakly.

The creature obeyed, and Holly glared at it over the top of her knees. “So you can talk,” she said, because being angry and belligerent was better than being frightened. Even if she couldn’t manage sounding that way.

“I didn’t want to,” said the creature, putting his hands on his knees. He looked at the floor, and Holly had to look away from his face because she hated the sadness in his eyes. Looking at other people was hard.

“Why?” said Holly. Not because she wanted to ask it, but because the question was hanging in the air anyway.

“Because it hurt.” He said this like it answered everything.

Holly turned her face away. “Everything hurts,” she muttered, pressing her cheek against her knee.

“Then why were you kind to me?” Holly’s eyes snapped to his. The shape of the face wasn’t quite right; he still had fur; his voice was a low rumble, like the growl of a great cat. But it was a conversation, and she couldn’t get away from it.

She tangled her fingers in her hair and pulled, because at least that was something concrete to call painful.

“Please,” said the creature, and though he didn’t touch her, his fingers brushed the bottom of Holly’s chair. She flinched and made the mistake of looking into his eyes. “Please. I need to know there was a reason that you helped me.”

Holly frowned down at him. “What happened to you?”

The creature dropped his eyes. Slowly, he lifted his hand, until it rested just below Holly’s on the seat of the chair. She stared at it.

“I’d say you could just tell me,” she said, her voice very soft, “but I know that’s not how it works.”

She slid the glove off her left hand and touched the back of his with her fingertips. His fur was surprisingly soft, and she could feel the skin beneath it.

***

Then she was a different person. She was tall and strong, and it was her pride. She was fighting another man while someone else watched. She threw a punch, and when her fist met jaw she felt a sharp agony that was almost like falling in love. Someone congratulated her, and she turned. She had a brother. His praise was all that mattered. His praise was the whole world.

She was older and slitting the throat of a deer. Her arrow was lodged in its chest. The blood poured hot and thick from its throat, and the smell made her pant. She licked it from her fingers. When she lowered them, her fingernails had transformed into sharp black claws. Fine fur covered the back of her hand. She stared at it with sick fascination.

Just as she reached to stroke her own fur, her brother called her name. The fur and claws disappeared; when her brother reached her side, her hand was pale and smooth and perfect again.

***

This wasn’t much later: she was arguing with one of her brother’s colleagues. Anger pulsed in her chest instead of her heartbeat, and when she hit him, her claws left slashes. She made the claws go away, but she knew he saw, and she ran off to be alone.

***

She was talking with her brother in a halting voice, trying to explain the changes overtaking her body. Her brother said that everything was all right, that they would find an answer. She looked in his eyes and wished she could believe him with all her heart, the way she had when she was a child.

Her brother said she had to go far away to find someone who could help her. She said she didn’t need help. Her brother said she had to go.

They never argued. She gave in, like she always did, and when she was outside she looked at her hands and wished she could cut out the part that changed.

***

She was running from people she thought she could trust, in a place she didn’t know. They knew she was a monster, and they were going to kill her for it. She stumbled and couldn’t get up—partly because her knees hurt too much and partly because she couldn’t look away from her arms. Fur appeared and disappeared with the pounding of her heart; it hurt like a thousand tiny needles thrusting through the skin.

Pain exploded in her shoulder. She threw her head back and screamed—but the cry of a great cat came out. Fur sprouted all over her body; her hair lengthened and fell to cover her face, and her two front incisors grew large and painfully sharp.

She killed the men chasing her with claws and teeth. Only when they were dead and she had her fill of her blood did she realize that some of it was her own. She let out another cry, but this one sounded too much like her own. She lay down, hoping she would die.

***

Luke rushed in the room the moment the creature held it out its hand, but Holly didn’t lash out like he was expecting. When she touched its hand, Luke waited for the catastrophe, but the pair locked eyes, and—nothing bad happened.

Holly let go of the creature, convulsively, and hugged herself again. The creature backed away, watching her with wide eyes. Luke rushed over to her, ignoring the creature. “Holly?” he asked, without expecting a response.

Her eyes moved to him, but they didn’t see him.

“Can you hear me?” said Luke.

Holly’s eyes snapped into focus. She looked at him for a moment, and then she pushed him aside. “You can change back!” she shouted at the creature. “You can be something else! Why don’t you?” The creature didn’t respond. Holly shoved it, her eyes filling with tears. “Why don’t you?”

The creature dropped its eyes, then closed them. The fine fur covering its body slowly retreated. The claws became ordinary fingernails, and its feet became soft and pink. It became an ordinary looking man. When he lifted his eyes, they were ashamed. “You can change, too,” he said quietly. “You’re better than you think.”

Holly stared at the creature for a moment; Luke looked away, embarrassed by the raw feeling in her eyes. It wasn’t meant for him. Then she turned away, brushing tears from her face with an angry hand. “I bet you’re going to tell me I just made a breakthrough,” she muttered, glancing sideways at Luke. Holly crossed her arms, tipping back her head so the tears remaining in her eyes wouldn’t run down her cheeks.

Luke bit his lip. He wanted to reach for her. Alternatively, he wanted to walk out of the room and not—do this anymore. He pressed one hand to his forehead and sighed. “…I don’t know how to help you,” he said, his voice so soft even he could hardly hear it. “I mean, that ought to be obvious, since I’ve been working with you so long, but I thought maybe—maybe it would change, if I was patient and tried. But I’ve been having trouble with the ‘patience’ part lately. I’m… I’m sorry for what I said, Holly. It was cruel.”

Holly glanced at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. She sniffed and scrubbed at her face with the heel of her hand. “It’s only payback,” she mumbled at last. She turned to them both, looking at the floor. “I… I keep wanting to stop being scared, but I always will, won’t I? Maybe I’ve just got to—look at it. See what it really is.”

A smile, unbidden, touched Luke’s lips. “That—that would be good. We can try that.”

Holly put her hands behind her back and nodded. She looked at the creature-turned-man. “Why don’t you tell him your name?” Her voice was much softer than usual, and not in a bad way. “He’s a good doctor, once you get to know him.”