As soon as Akai's blood was clean of disease, as soon as his heart was normal and his wounds were in check, he and Connor were put on a jet to the States. He was able to use the phone provided to call his parents, and cry most of the way home as he explained the situation. They sounded relieved, however, that neither were dead. After promising to call when they landed and give them their location, Connor shakily called Akai's parents.

Nearly a month passed where Connor saw nothing but the inside of the hospital. He couldn't sleep through the nightmares of seeing entrails, blood spattered rooms and screaming faces, beating hearts in their ribcages and slimy infected wounds. He woke up feeling sick when he did sleep, screaming other times, and spending days with a specialist talking through the situations but feeling no different. When his parents visited, Connor cried on their shoulders, and didn't speak of the horrors he saw in the medical tents. He only spoke of Akai, and they gave the unconscious man a sad look from time to time. Akai's parents hadn't managed to arrive yet, and Connor had taken to keeping them updated on their son's condition as they made it across the country.

The armchair beside Akai's bed in the private room became Connor's bed, as it was closer to the man than the couch in the corner. He was only half asleep---the day was early, not quite noon so lunch wasn't being taken around to the patients and their loved ones yet. He opened his deeply-shadowed eyes, rubbing them and glancing at Akai, who was awake. He jumped up with a gasp as the man spoke, sounding as if he hadn't done so in years. "Akai... We're in California---in the best hospital that can be found. You've been out for a while..." He went around to sit lightly on the bed, grasping Akai's hand around the several cords taped into his veins. "How... are you feeling?"