Beep. Beep. Beep.

What…was that? A Sound?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was…annoying.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Slowly, disturbed by the beeping of the machine in the background, Taylor stirred from sleep. Blinking, she blankly looked at the sterile white ceiling. The color was important somehow, it tugged at something at the back of her mind. Same with the smell – a faint whiff of antiseptic, of clean linen, plastic and metal. And that beeping sound, it was almost like she was in a-

"Hospital," she rasped. "I am in a hospital."

She tilted her head to the right, where it was brightest, drinking in the room. The walls were as white as the ceiling, and a machine beside her was hooked up to her, and the source of her awakening. Monitoring her heart rate, she realized. Behind it was a window, showing blue sky, clouds and the roofs of apartment complexes. A sight she had not seen in half a decade, one that she had doubted she would ever see again but now lay so very innocently before her.

"I'm…back."

She laid like that for minutes, head on the side just staring at, and through, the window, mouthing the words over and over. A chuckle, weak and hoarse, broke from her throat. Only then did she notice another sound beside the heart monitor. A soft sound of air. With care she turned her head to the other side – her everything was hurting, just what had she done – and saw, asleep in a chair by the door, a man. He was thin, with dark but balding hair and a sharp nose. Even in sleep he looked burdened, as if he carried the weight of the world on his frail shoulders. Taylor felt tears trail down her cheek, looking at a person she had not seen in what felt like a lifetime, the one person she had truly missed in her grand and terrifying adventure.

"Dad." Her voice was, if anything, even worse than when she woke up, dry from sleep and rough from emotion.

The word had been quiet, but it was enough. It roused Danny Hebert from his dreams, and for a moment he just looked at his daughter, bemused. Then, with widened eyes he practically jumped from the chair to the bedside, then carefully, as if afraid she would shatter, laid a hand upon her cheek.

"Hi dad," she smiled weakly. Danny swallowed hard and, with misty eyes and a blinding grin, hugged her.

"Hey kiddo. You had me worried for a while," he whispered.

"Sorry."

Danny gave a choked laugh as they broke the hug, and sat down on his knees beside the bed.

"'Sorry' isn't was what I was after, kiddo. How do you feel?"

"Tired. Half-convinced I'm dreaming. Thirsty."

"Well," Danny rose, "that last part I can do something about." He walked over the bathroom sink, filled a small plastic cup and gingerly handed it over. The taste was divine; cold and refreshing, and empty all too quickly. Danny fetched another two glasses, one which she inhaled as quickly as the first, and the last she sipped while her dad pressed the emergency button to summon a nurse. One showed up shortly, dressed in green scrubs with a serious expression that softened as he saw that the patient was conscious.

"Hello, miss Hebert. I am Daniel, nice to meet you. How do you feel?"

Taylor shot a small smirk at her dad, whom looked equally amused. "As I said to my dad just now, tired, maybe dreaming. Not thirsty though, we took care of that." She shook the glass slightly to demonstrate. She did feel a lot better after something to drink. Daniel smiled slightly at her antics.

"Good, good. I would like you to remain in bed until a proper doctor can check up on you. I don't know what your father has told you, but you've been asleep for some days, and we'd all like to see that everything is okay."

Taylor frowned slightly, but nodded. If she had been unconscious for a few days, then…

"How long have I've been gone?"

"You came to us five days ago. It's the 8:th of January today, just a bit over eleven am," Daniel responded calmly, maintain eye contact as he did so, while completely misunderstanding the question. "You were in an…incident, at your school this Monday, and rushed here in the evening of the 3:rd."

Taylor stared at him, incredulous. She didn't remember the date she had been transported from Earth Bet and woken up in that carriage, but from what the nurse was telling her, the Locker, as she so lovingly called the event, had happened less than a week ago. But that was impossible, five years had passed! What was going on?!

Daniel, gave her shoulder what was supposed to be a comforting squeeze.

"No worries, some shock is normal when waking up like this. Please, lie down. You already had some water, correct? Would you like me to get you something warm, soup, chocolate, tea?" He looked over at Danny, "something for you as well sir? You probably need it." The nurse had a chiding tone, snapping Taylor out of her confused state enough to look over at her dad, whom sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

"I, er, might like something to eat – if Taylor wants something that is."

Daniel snorted, and shot Taylor a conspiratorial look. "Your father has barely left your side during the time you've been here. Yesterday I forced him to call a few friends to bring a new set of clothes and then made sure to march him into the shower. Threatened to shower him myself if he didn't do it willingly. Would've done it, too, for my own sense of smell if nothing else."

Pushing thoughts of time and impossibilities away, Taylor attempted to pin Danny with a disappointed glare. It was, however, lessened by the fact that her stomach chose to make its displeasure known with a loud growl. Danny's stomach joined in, to the nurse's laughter. Parent and daughter being equally red, as Danny nodded.

"Soup sounds good," he said, "for both of us."

Daniel chuckled, and with a wave hurried away in search of the meals and a doctor, leaving the two Heberts with crimson faces.

The food and the doctor showed up shortly. It was decided that Taylor should remain in the hospital for at least another day for observation, but her values were otherwise rather fine all things considered. The only remark she got from the doctor was that she was a little on the thin side, which had not been helped by her stay in the hospital. She was recommended to eat more meat, egg and beans, to increase her protein intake, which Danny promised would be followed to the letter. Taylor dealt with it with wry and tired amusement – she was exhausted, and after having eaten she fell asleep once more.''

When next Taylor woke it was to hushed but harsh voices whispering. She felt far more awake now than last time, more rested. She managed to sit up, and made a pointed chough – the voices stilled, and Danny entered, annoyance on his face, followed by the doctor that had checked her before the dinner. The doctor, seemingly not bothered by Danny's attempted murder by glare, gave Taylor a reserved smile.

"Good afternoon, miss Hebert. Feeling better?"

"Yeah, food and sleep was great. Is…there a problem?"

"Not as such, no," the doctor – what was her name – "Your father is just annoyed that I want to talk to you alone for a bit. It's about your journal, and, while not an adult, you're old enough that you get to hear this alone," the doctor gave Danny a glance, "before we divulge it to your father."

"And Doctor Summer, with all due respect, I want to know what is so god damn impo-"

"Dad, it's fine," Taylor interrupted before Danny could work up a rant. She gave him a small smile she hoped was reassuring. "Can you get me a cup of tea while we talk? Milk, no sugar?"

Doctor Summer did a very good job of not looking smug, while Danny narrowed his eyes.

"I will be back in ten minutes. And you and I will be having words, Doctor." As he left, Taylor opened her mouth to apologize, but Summer waved at her to stop.

"No need, I can guess what you are about to say. Trust me, your father is right to be suspicious, there have been a lot of pressure on him. Your school" and dear divine, there was venom in that word, "has made it quite clear that what happened to you was an 'unfortunate prank' and will as such barely cover the medical bill. Even that hangs on that Danny doesn't make a fuss or involves the police. Me trying to talk you alone when you just woke up, well. As I said, he has grounds for his suspicions, wrong though they are in this case." The doctor sat down at the chair beside the bed with a sigh.

"So, why did you want to talk to me? You did say earlier that my values were fine," Taylor asked. Summer seemed sincere and honest, but while she had become better at judging people, Emma's betrayal still colored her thoughts. There was a reason her most trusted friends also where those she had experienced the most life-and-death situation with. That was essentially what it took for her to trust fully these days.

"They are. I'm afraid I have misled your father somewhat – there is nothing wrong with your body. That, in fact, is the problem. Quite frankly, you are far healthier than you should be after your ordeal."

Taylor blinked. "Wait – you're saying I'm too healthy? How does that work?"

"Good question. And the answer is why I'm having this talk with you alone. You are healing at an exceptional rate – not instant regeneration, by any means, but at least five times faster than an average person. At the same time, there is your blood which, quite frankly, doesn't match your earlier records. In fact, your blood is remarkably different from that of the average human."

Summer paused for a bit judging Taylor's reaction to what was being said. At a small nod, she continued, "As far as we know, this has only happened in a few, extreme cases, cases that all have one thing in common. They all went through a very traumatic experience, and had something that in layman's terms is called a 'trigger event', thus gaining preternatural powers. In cases this extreme there is usually more of a visible change, something you seem to lack – but Taylor…you've become a 'parahuman'."

Summer clearly expected Taylor to have some sort of explosive reaction to this – denial, laughter, spluttering. Instead Taylor thoughtfully frowned. I…do not believe I am a parahuman. Not in the manner she means at least. The blood…well, I suppose 'the Dragon Blood', is a bit more literal than I'd figured?

"And what does this mean – for me, I mean?" she carefully asked.

"For now, nothing," Summer answered frankly. "It is your choice whom to tell, and what to do. I feel obliged to inform you, however, that statistically going Rogue ends with eight out of ten either dead or forced into gang service in the first three months, while nine out of ten Wards of the Protectorate lives to at least becoming adult. I am not pressuring you, but this is something to consider."

"I will. Consider it, that is. What about my medical records? Can anyone with clearance find out that I'm…not entirely human anymore?" Taylor wasn't really concerned for her own safety. She could more than take care of herself. Her dad on the other hand could not, and she would sooner make a pact with Clavicus Vile than allow any clever thug a chance to hurt him because of her.

"The records have simply remained unaltered. We already had your blood group on record, and that is what still stands written. Unorthodox, but when it comes to parahuman affairs that is not unusual," Summer responded. "Now, I would recommend that you tell your father. I will not, and it is your decision, but secrets have this habit of coming out to people close to oneself. And with something like this, it can be reassuring just to have someone to talk to."

This she knew. It had never been hidden that she wasn't from Skyrim, with her body too small to be a Nord, and with a complete lack of understanding of customs. However only a select few had known that she was not simply a foreigner, but not of Nirn in its entirely. Yet without those few trusted friends to share stories with, she wouldn't have lasted in the cold land of the Nords.

When Danny came back, his temper had cooled and he found that Summer had already left. He silently handed the cup over of tea, and sat down with his own coffee. There was silence for a bit as they both sipped their beverages – Tylor thinking, and Danny unwilling to force a discussion. Eventually Taylor sighed and gave a lopsided smile.

"Well, the doctor said I'm fine, so no worries there." Danny hummed, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "But dad…we need to talk. About, well. A lot. Everything. And much if it will sound insane, and crazy and," Taylor stopped her babbling with a deep breath. "Just, please…when we get home?"

Danny looked at his daughter. So kind, so hurt, and so very much older than her years. The daughter he failed in so many ways. He had almost lost her, these past few days. Or rather, these past few years, ever since Annette died. No more.

"Of course, kiddo. Of course."

AN:

Wow. I…got a far bigger response on this than I ever thought. Thanks to everyone that has read this, and especially to those whom took the time to leave a review. You are great!

That being said, I repeat what I said in the prologue; no promises on updates (sadly, much writing goes to university studies, rather than pleasure), and definitely no regular ones. But I will give the plot bunnies this, they are persistent…

Take care, and have a nice weekend!

Sincerely,

Silvar

AN 2

And I am sorry if you got double notification or something similar – the doc manager fought me bit before I got it right.