I have to say I'm so excited to write this after the response from the last chapter. I knew, as it was pretty much a climax, that it would get some attention, but five reviews within twenty four hours. My heart legit soured!

I'm also happy to announce that I'm playing around with a few other Motorcity fic ideas in my head that will hopefully surface after this one's done. I'll keep you guys posted. As a Mike/Julie supporter, I really think we can all appreciate all the fics we can get. The number is surprisingly few. It saddens me (wink, wink, nudge, nudge), if you catch my drift.

Of Angels To Be

Chapter 9: In Post

The light burned behind her eyelids. Her breath was lost when the smell hit her – rubbing alcohol, window cleaner, and the putrid smell of the deathly ill. The world was spinning in her dark so much so it hurt. Still, she kept her eyes screwed shut. Opening them would make everything real. She shouldn't be here, she couldn't be here. No, she wasn't here.

There was no light hurting her. All she could see were the fluorescents and the dim streaks that littered the skies. Not much light could pass through Deluxe, so what did was erratic. She smelled dirt and the odd whiff of gasoline. Unpleasant, that she would admit, but homey. There were no scratchy bed sheets, no side stepping outside her door, no awkward conversations slipping into her room. Just leather. Car horns. Laughing.

She chuckled pitifully at herself – what was she? Four? Making pretend as if it would actually change all around her. She snorted and winced as the odour of rot and disinfectant slipped into her dream. Her eyes flashed open and darted from corner to corner with discomfort.

She hated hospitals. She hated them so much.

She'd seen too many people die in hospital beds. Doctors seemed so over-glorified and useless. They sauntered in, threw out a diagnosis and left it to their underlings. Horror stories of angels of mercy spiking IV's with adrenaline or some other untraceable liquid death left her shaking. She chewed her bottom lip until it bled. It was never the surgery she was afraid of – that hadn't been a complete lie. It was the location, the hospital. The men with knives, the women with needles, and her life in their possibly incompetent hands. She hated uncertainty – and hospitals left her reeking of it.

And a faceless woman, ever bleeding…

She clutched at the cheap sheets below her as she tried to move. A white pain shot through her like lightning, climbing up her spine. Her body stiffened, and she fell to her side, whimpering. Her eyes stung with tears, but she hadn't the strength to stop them this time. Her fingernails tore through the sheets as she clung to them. Her back was hot with the steady ache that was borderline unbearable. She was clammy with a cold sweat and she felt like someone had left her body on vibrate. She couldn't stop shaking.

The beeping of the assortment of machines around her began to pound in her ears. Her eyes naturally followed their lines, her stomach beginning to turn to knots as she realized they all eventually led to her. She wished nothing more than to rip every tube and cord out from her hands. Her heart was slamming, pushing desperately, behind her breast. It was becoming hard to breathe.

She head whipped to the sound of a door opening and slamming shut. Footsteps entered her white prison and her hold on the torn sheets intensified. She couldn't tell how many people there were. Everything else was too loud – the machines, her pulse. Why couldn't they shut up? She couldn't focus. She needed to focus!

She let out a strangled cry as she tried to move again. Another bolt of burning pain laid waste to her back. It was eating her alive. The curtain was pulled back, revealing a familiarly frail man whose face was covered by a clipboard. His finger tapped it impatiently as he went over her charts.

A doctor only showed up when you were going into cardiac arrest or dying…

His hand flailed with snaps above her his head and a nurse scurried in from the hallway with haste. She approached her bedside and froze. Julie's eyes widened and her gaze dove to her hands. They were pale and white again, nothing like the sunburned caramel of Myrna's skin. Her breath hitched in her throat and suffocated her. She was numb, all except for the shooting pain burning through her back, she could feel nothing.

Something went wrong. Her hologram failed, but when? Right in the middle of surgery? She looked back to the doctor and recognized how calm he was. No – she had made it through. He hadn't even noticed. But that still didn't settle her nerves on his presence. Even if something hadn't gone wrong with her hologram, something must have with gone wrong with the surgery. There was no question; she wasn't going into cardiac arrest. She was dying.

She collapsed into the cot and buried her face in her arms. It was too painful to straighten out to reach the pillow – but that didn't matter. It was over, everything was just over.

"Alright," The doctor spoke as if he was bored and Julie immediately recognized the tone. It was the same flamboyantly perverted man from before, "The surgery went splendidly. I'll write you a script for some pain killers, and it will take a little while until you'll be able to perform normal work again. I'll have the nurse assist you in changing, and then you can go back to your pod for a few days bed rest. No picking at your enhancement or using them until you're fully healed. Understood?"

Julie's head rose from her arms and she answered with a raw throat, "Yes."

He left without opening his mouth again. He hadn't even dropped the clipboard far enough to notice something was wrong. The nurse hadn't spoken up either. She supposed he was intimidating or maybe the nurse was delicate minded. This could work to her advantage if she played her cards right.

The nurse moved cautiously. She tugged Julie up into a sitting position, ignoring her sobs and pained protests. She kept her moving, dressing her in her clothes, and disregarding her pleading eyes. The pain in her back rocked her. Lights were flashing in front of her eyes, blinding her. She shoved her legs through her pants, before the nurse even glanced at her for more than a brief moment.

Finally, she spoke softly and with fright, "What are you doing here?"

"It's complicated," she snapped at her. The nurses' head fell, red and flushed with shame. Shame for what Julie couldn't pinpoint and she soon realized she didn't care.

The nurse looked back to her and whispered, "Miss Kane."

Julie nodded at her. The nurse helped her pull her shirt over her head, still ignoring the yelps of pain exiting her mouth. The inner flesh of her cheek was bloody and beginning to blister. She hissed and realized she had been chewing it to keep from screaming any louder. The nurse looked at her, and she caught sight of the slight smirk on her mouth. Her eyes narrowed – an ex-fairy tale princess out for revenge like all the rest.

Without hesitation, the nurse grabbed her wrists and tugged her off the bed. Julie stumbled forward, her knees weak. She buckled and grabbed the nurses' arm to keep falling. The pain pooled in her shoulders. It struck her with every move, lashing out from her back to every part of her being with its hot claws. She looked back to the nurse. The smirk was still there. She couldn't blame her for it.

"Should I call someone for you," she asked. She was so falsely sweet. It was always rather amusing to watch how someone changed when they took over. The addicting taste of power, and it must have been strong in her mouth. Julie had seen this change in people too many times not to laugh at it. The nurse raised an eyebrow at her and waited impatiently for Julie's pained chuckles to subside.

"I'll call her," she mumbled, limping as the nurse hoisted her arm over her shoulder and began to drag her out into the hall. People's eyes immediately locked onto her, shock and worry plastered on their faces. Her heart naturally dropped as they continued. She grabbed the nurse's collar and pulled her ear down close enough to speak, "I was drunk last night. I slept over because I was so out of it I fell down some stairs."

The nurse's eyes widened as her power was snatched away for an instant. Julie snickered to herself again pitifully. The nurse nodded and continued to walk her down the hall.

Her chest felt compressed. It was a struggle to breathe and she realized soon that she was quite obviously gasping for the air around her. The nurse paid no mind to it. Julie grimaced at her through the corner of her eyes.

Her hand rose to open a communication screen. She didn't care that the woman pulling her down the hall was probably going to eavesdrop on her. It wasn't as if Claire was understandable to an unprepared ear anyway. They reached the nearest elevator as she finished tapping out her number. Even raising her arm high enough to complete the tasking was trying. She groaned as they came to a stop. Today was going to be great…

Claire answered almost immediately. It caught her off guard and her mouth went dry. She realized she had no idea what to say. Hey, so I went through with the surgery that you were so against and kind of had a breakdown doing it… so how was your day? Yeah, because that rolled right off the tongue. Luckily, Claire was never one to leave dead air alone.

"Julie! Gosh girl, you look totally horrible! I mean, for reals girl, you're hair is just everywhere. Doesn't the hospital have a hairbrush or something? Seriously?"

Julie couldn't help the smile that came to her face. The idea that her hair was a wreck unnerved her. She loved her hair. Her hands automatically reached to grab it and put it into place. She winced, it truly was everywhere.

"So," she continued, and Julie found herself wondering where all that breath came from, "What happened? Oh my gosh, you did it! Julie! Are you getting out? What the hell did they do to you!?"

Julie's eyes cast down and her stomach dropped uncomfortably as she spoke, "I… I don't know. Can you pick me up?"

"Alright, just wait girl, I'll be there super soon! Okay?"

"Okay."

The window was closed just as the nurse dragged her into the elevator. Julie braced herself on one of the rails. The nurse eagerly let go of her and kept her space, hands gingerly on her hips. Julie looked at her intently, curiosity absorbing her senses.

Briefly, she couldn't hold her tongue, "What's your name?"

"What's it to you," the nurse snapped, an eyebrow cocked. Julie shrugged, or tried to shrug. It was too painful to move her shoulders that far.

"I'm getting I little tired of referring to you as nurse who hates me in my head," she said. The nurse shifted uncomfortably on the spot, "I'm not stupid you know, and you're not exactly hiding it well. Besides, you know who I am."

"Everyone knows who you are," she replied sourly.

"So then what's the harm? Do you think I'm going to get you fired," she smiled when the nurse subconsciously nodded to herself, "I won't. You know, as long as you keep all this to yourself."

"Of course, Miss Kane," she answered robotically. Julie scoffed. There was something about her surname that felt like a stab in the throat.

"Julie."

"What?"

"It's Julie, alright?"

The nurse almost smiled, but the sinister glaze over her eyes never faded, "Alma."

"That's pretty," Julie said sincerely. Alma stuffed her hands in her pockets, glaring at the floor for a while. Julie knew she probably should have left it at that. Alma already hated her. She only gave up any of that information, despite the fight, because of her status. Julie had a reputation. One that she granted didn't deserve and was often quite untruthful, but it came in handy. She was never the type of person to hold her heritage over another's head, but people often mistook her words to be manipulative. She frowned, maybe they actually were, "When is it?"

Alma shuffled on the spot again, kicking at the floor with the heel of one of her sneakers, "A few hours."

"I guess you don't know what they're going to do," Julie stated, leaning into the railing more when the elevator came to a final halt. A spike of pain flashed over her. It faded relatively fast, but she knew it was no where near over.

"No," she spat.

Julie bit her cheek before continuing slowly, "Do you… know what they did to me?"

Alma looked at her from the corner of her eyes, "No."

She took Julie by the arm and escorted her off the elevator. Julie winced as she walked, crying out softly with each step and stumble. Suddenly, Alma pushed her down onto a bench outside the main pharmacy. She told her to stay put while she went and filled her prescription. Her hands gripped at the bench beneath her, but couldn't find the breath to thank her as she sped off into the pharmacy.

Her communication screen opened in front of her face. Julie quickly opened the screen to Claire's worried smile. She couldn't help but grin back.

"I'm here," she said, "Where are you?"

"In front of the pharmacy," she replied quickly. Claire clapped her hands together in understanding.

"I'm on my way. Don't move!"

Julie winced as another flood of pain rampaged through her shoulders, "That won't be a problem."

Claire didn't waste anytime, and Julie chuckled as her friend barrelled around the corner mere moments after closing the red screen. She almost jumped at the seat beside her on the bench and threw her arms around her. Julie whimpered, biting her tongue while the sharp pain shot through her again to keep from crying out. She hoped Claire wouldn't hear her, but she did. Claire immediately pulled back and her hand came to her mouth as she gasped. Julie tried to shrug again, but grunted as she remembered that her shoulders couldn't move that far.

"Julie," she whispered like it was forbidden to speak, "What did they do?"

"I told you. I don't know," Julie's head fell back into the wall and she sighed, "Something though. The doctor said everything was fine."

"Did he tell you anything else? Anything at all?"

She pursed her lips as she thought, "He said not to use the enhancement until I'm healed and that's it."

"Okay," Claire twirled her hair absentmindedly as she spoke but just as she opened her mouth to continue, Alma trudged out from the pharmacy. She looked Claire over, scoffed under her breath and threw a white paper bag at her. Claire caught it with a squeal of surprise. Alma snorted.

Without another word she turned down the hall and was gone. Julie caught herself wishing her luck. She almost felt sorry for her, but the thought was quickly stopped as she realized she had other things to worry about. Claire was staring at her. Her eyes were glossy and Julie's stomach dropped at the sight of them. She gulped. This wasn't good. She couldn't handle it when she cried herself – and she certainly wasn't equipped enough to deal with anyone else. Claire never cried, as Julie had come to learn after all these years. She sobbed. She bawled. She wept. She couldn't cry, timidly and soft. It just wasn't in her – the emotional self control.

"No, no," Julie hushed, "Claire, don't you dare. You'll make a scene!"

"What do we do now," she sniffled. Julie's chest swelled as she watched her best friend tried her best to combatant the croaks rising up her throat and failed miserably.

"I think we should get out of here," she insisted. Claire nodded slowly and took her hand, taking her time to lace their fingers together protectively, and led her through the halls. Her hand was shaking in hers. Why was she so scared? Her eyes widened in shock. Was it her face? Did they ruin her face? She realized she hadn't looked in a mirror yet and horrible images automatically filled her mind. They gave her robotic eyes. They switched her mouth with an upgraded bear trap. They turned her nose into a laser.

Oh God, she was starting to sound like Texas.

Still, her nervous imagination forced her free hand to her face. No robot eyes, bear traps, or lasers. She sighed with relief and it fell back to her side.

Claire stayed abnormally silent the rest of the way. Julie's eyes narrowed at the back of her head. Claire only stayed this quiet when she was hiding something. Julie's mouth twisted to the side, and gripped her hand harder. Claire faltered and turned back to face her for a moment. Her eyes were tearing up. She bit down on her lip briefly before going back to gently leading her to the pod station.

"What is it," she prodded. Claire's grip on her hand wavered for a moment at her words, "Claire…"

Her pod was coming into sight. The blinds were down. Julie sucked in a sharp breath. She knew exactly why they were closed, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it. Claire noted her expression and spoke softly, "Something happened while you were… you know."

"What," she snapped, "I was only under for a few hours – what could have possibly happened?"

Claire let go of her hand outside her pod. She looked up and down the bay before tapping the pass code out on the keypad. Julie stood, pained, but defiant at the lack of answers she was receiving. She didn't like secrets. The irony hit her like a brick to the gut, but she shifted her weight and forced the feeling away. The door opened and Claire gestured inside, annoyance surfacing across her features, "He did."

Julie's gaze first caught hold of Mutt's trunk and rear bumper. Anger flared within her belly, quickly spreading like a fire to her fingertips. Her blood boiled and she could feel it pumping through her veins. The pulse in her wrists thundered behind the thin skin, a violent tingling left in its wake. Her upper lip curled into a snarl as she slipped between Mutt and the wall of Claire's pod. She shook her head in disbelief as she struggled to move. She really should have seen this coming. Mike never gave up – even when continuing was sheer stupidity. He quite easily could have construed doing what she asked as giving up. She had no doubt of it. He was so bull headed, and cocky, and his inflated sense of justice was admirable but ridiculously unsafe, and, she huffed, blowing her bangs off her forehead for a moment, he must have had a secret death wish… it was the only explanation for his disregard for the fragility of the human body, and God knows he was – bleeding.

She shoved herself through the final stretch where she had been pinned. The pain in her back had started ripping through her again. It forced her to trudge the final steps, but she barely noticed it. He blinded her. Mike was slouched over on Claire's couch. He watched her push herself, eyes trailing her body for signs of trauma. She had many. He propelled himself of the couch. His body was stiff and ached with pulled muscles and bruises, but it was nothing he hadn't dealt with before, and such, he managed easily. She grabbed his forearms, cussing at her brain when she briefly became distracted by the strength in his arms beneath his jacket, and forced him back onto the couch.

She heard him winced under his breath, quietly, but it was there. She took his face in her palms. A large purpling bruise had nested over his right cheekbone causing the flesh to swell. His lip was split, and blood had dabbled down from it in a trail. She noted the crust of dried blood just under his left nostril; he had broken his nose. She wiped the blood off his mouth with the hem of her shirt. The red splotch shone like a beacon in the dark against the white Kane Co. fabric but she really couldn't care less. She had more shirts.

"Geez, Mike," she muttered, dragging her thumb across his jaw to calm herself, "You're so stupid sometimes, you know that?"

His gaze softened, "Yeah."

"So stupid," she repeated spitefully. He snorted and she smiled pitifully as his face twitched with pain. She sighed as she studied his injuries intently. It would be easy enough to ice his cheek and Jacob could even set his nose. His mouth was another matter. He'd need stitches, which meant a doctor, which meant finding a qualified medic in Motorcity. That would take some digging. She reached up and grazed the underside of the bruise.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled it off him. She scowled at him, be he remained firm. He stood from the couch again. His joints cracked uncomfortably as he moved. He let her hand go and it dropped to her side. Her neck craned to look him in the face, and it strained her. The sharp ache in her shoulders was burning and it was slowly turning her legs to jelly. Staying up on her feet was becoming tasking, but she refused to back down.

"You're okay," he asked. His hands were stuffed into his jacket and he was crowned over. Her lips tightened against each other briefly. He looked distant, but his voice was sincere.

"I'm alive," she chuckled. He shot her a look, "Nothing went wrong."

"What did they do?"

Her eyes fell from his face to her shoes. It was amazing just how sick of this question she already was, "I don't know."

His brows knitted together, but he stayed collected just as he was best at, "Where does it hurt?"

Her eyes widened momentarily. She hadn't even thought of that. She had been so caught up in everything else that it hadn't logically crossed her mind. Her voice wavered as the pain caught up with her, "My back."

"Okay," he told her calmly. He sounded like he was hushing her, but she wasn't crying. She refused to, "C'mon, c'mon…"

He helped her out of her vest, leaving it to pool on the floor. She cried out, biting on her mouth to keep from screaming any louder. He pinched the hem of her shirt and shimmed it over her head. A strangled sob left her as she raised her arms above her head. It felt like her insides were bleeding. Her spine felt so heavy, like it was being compressed but never moving, and it was dragging her shoulder blades with it.

Claire yelped from behind them, "Really? You guys couldn't even wait until you were back in Motorcity? For real?"

Claire suddenly gasped as Mike gently tugged Julie's shirt off. Julie froze before him, and her eyes met him with fright. He kept his expression collected, but his lip was twitching. She knew better than to read into things but it scared her to see. He turned her until she was facing Claire. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and picked at it nervously. His hands remained steady on her shoulders. She waited, impatiently, for a reaction – a grunt, a worried vibration from his hands.

"Mike," she croaked, "Mike? What is it?"

"I have no idea."