So, I was already in bed, trying to sleep after the new episode of Covert Affairs, when this occured to me. So, obedient to my fickle muse, I jumped up and wrote it. Sorry it's so short, but that's all that came to me for now. Thanks people for reading. :) I am trying very very hard to keep this updated and not disappoint you guys. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Pretty please?

Chapter 3

Auggie's Point of View

The next few weeks passed in a blur. A long, dark, miserable, invisible blur. I didn't get out of that hospital bed for the first two. The invisible world around me frightened me too much. It also made me angry. Bitterly, irrepressibly angry.

Why me? Why did this have to happen to me? What did I do to deserve… THIS? I was working, helping people, saving lives, making a difference in the world, and then BAM.

Blackout. Forever.

Needless to say, I spent most of my time in tortured self-pity.

I was told my face was healing well. The CIA had paid for the best plastic surgeons to fix me up, make me as attractive as I was before the accident. Pity they couldn't do something about my eyes.

Alice said they didn't look too bad, with the lie loud in her voice. I supposed that, since I couldn't visually track her, they just stared, never really looking directly at her. The doctors said that would probably always be the giveaway.

Supposedly, I would learn to function again, just like a regular person. I didn't believe it. How could I, when the world of light, and color, and human beauty was now lost to me?

I discovered the other scars later, when I finally got the nerve to attempt an independent shower. I was trying to wash the hospital scent off of me (I'd found my sense of smell was much stronger, after the loss of my sight), and failing when my fingers first hit something. A thick raised line, right under my collarbone, crossed by little wires. I followed it with my fingers, following the line. I found another one, slightly below it, slightly shorter. More crisscrossed the remainder of my chest and stomach. I traced them with my fingers, trying to realize their origins.

It didn't take but a second for the realization to hit me. Scars. I was scarred from the shrapnel that'd hit me in the explosion. I followed each scar, again and again, trying to lessen the amount of space they took up on my body. It didn't help.

Seconds later, still in the shower, I realized that I must look BAD. I also recognized that new note that'd been in my sister's voice. Pity. She pitied me, her brother. Poor Auggie, blind and scarred.

That thought was the one that broke me then. I tried to get out of the shower, but was disoriented and couldn't do it. I slipped and fell out of the shower. I lay there in the floor, whimpering, and feeling very very sorry for myself. I realized I was bleeding from somewhere from the metallic scent of blood in the air, but didn't do anything about it. I was lying in the floor, sobbing, when they found me to take me back to my hospital bed.

I didn't even try to get up for another week.