6.11 million cases worldwide, the US continues to be the leading country in coronavirus cases and deaths, protests are growing as people want the country to reopen despite the extreme caution warned by health officials, conservatives are embracing conspiracy theories about the virus death toll and its effects on carbon emissions, continues to mainly target those with immunodeficiencies however people of all ages are being claimed, scientists hard at work, 36 million Americans unemployed, hospitals overflowing, crime rates doubling, economy seeing the biggest crash since the 2008 recession, paramedics in New Jersey being forced to withhold CPR procedures in certain cases, the meat industry plummeting, US Postal Service running out of cash, educational institutions changing to online classes, US President Donald Trump--

I switched off the news. I was going to anyway, but the mention of that asshole's name made me jam my finger down on the off button so hard the remote made a cracking noise. I tossed it off to the side and sat back on the couch, raking my hands down my face and then up through my hair.

I've lived through worse than this. Getting shot, tortured, thrown from buildings and planes, jumping off buildings and from planes. Killing.

But this pandemic seems worse somehow.

For one, I was powerless to help, two, I had Nia to worry about, and three, James wasn't here. That was definitely the worst part.

I was trying to be understanding. He was a trained emergency medic, a nurse with practice under pressure, and a trusted ex of the security branch. It made sense that he would be called up to work overnights, even though he had volunteered in the beginning, and I had to let him go with full confidence that he would do his job and come back safe. But with every passing day and the new accelerating statistics I was starting to go out of my fucking mind.

Six months. He said that they legally couldn't keep him for more than six months. But it's not like the law will matter much if this turns into an epidemic. Plus, I know James, if something comes up he'll stay for as long as they need him to. And if he becomes compromised? He will stay far away from us.

At least I had Nia. Danke Gott, at least I had Nia. Not only would I be going wahnsinnig quarantined all on my own, she was so wholesome and optimistic that it kept me from being consumed by my worries. I had been telling her stories, mostly toned down retellings of some adventures I'd had as an agent, replacing my name with "the hero" (why not?), and also some of the original Grimm fairy tales, the authentic German ones, not the diluted translated version. She distracted me from my own head by having me help her with designing outfits for Bailey, building forts, baking, drawing, cutting up bits of old socks and bed sheets to make hats and leg warmers for Bailey, coloring, painting, making runs for Bailey, teaching Bailey tricks. Thank God for that bunny. I felt bad for Harrison and Jinx who are having to somehow entertain their three hyperactive children with no pet, and definitely Blitz and Maisie who are taking care of Cal's three kids in addition to their own two. Sure Nia was stressing me out, and occasionally annoying me, but at least there was only one of her. Only, I could see she missed her friends, and I was a poor substitute for a nine-year-old girl. She missed James almost as much as I did.

It had been three months since I last saw him or spoke to him. Nia and I video chatted with the group every Friday, sharing arts and crafts and pets and movies that we had been watching. Nia and I had been making our way through Harry Potter now that James isn't here to say that it's too violent for her. Despite all our different time zones we managed to make the video call work --Quinn and Roscoe in LA, Lautaro and Idania in Honduras, Jinx, Harrison, Adira, and Axel in New York, Nia and I in Georgia, Cal in Galway, Blitz and Maisie in Liverpool, Zia in France, Lucky in India, and even Zach in Denver sometimes. James was supposed to be in Atlanta, but I hadn't heard from him since he left.

If he had contracted the virus, he would find a way to contact me. That's what I had been telling myself.

I checked my watch. 1 a.m. Nia had been gradually pushing back her usual bedtime with cute smiles and irresistible puppy dog eyes, so she had been falling asleep at 10 and not the usual 8. I was such a good parent. But it wasn't like she had somewhere to be tomorrow.

I stood up from the couch with a sigh and went upstairs to defeatedly flop on my bed. I didn't change, didn't brush my teeth, just lay on my back and put my hands under my head and stared at the ceiling. I had been doing that a lot recently. What else was there to do? I could only work out in my room for so long or, as horrible as it is to say, play with Nia for so long. She wasn't being annoying or rude, occasionally she stomped her foot or glared at me when I asked her to clean up or told her that it was pasta for dinner for the twelfth time in a row, but after three months of being each other's only company we did sometimes just need a break from each other.

I don't know how long I layed there.

Maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours. Time was slowly lapsing into a hazy, dream-like concept with each passing day in quarantine. I liked having structure in my life. I liked having a job, that's why I miss being at the agency a lot of the time, despite all the bad things that had happened to me there. But the fort had cancelled training back when this was just beginning. With no cadets to teach and no James to love, what was I supposed to do?

I had absolutely no fucking clue.

-

I sat bolt upright in bed, encoated in a cold sweat and lungs screaming for air.

My chest heaved uncontrollably and I clawed a fistfull of my shirt into one hand, ragged breaths clashing with my pounding heart.

I scrambled out of bed and stumbled on shaking legs across the hall. As soon as I saw Nia's sleeping form safely nested in her room, I flew down the stairs, sharply rounded the corner and burst into the downstairs bathroom. I fell to my knees and just barely lifted the lid of the toilet up before I gagged into it.

My eyes and nose and mouth were dripping and it felt like my gut was trying to claw its way up and out of my throat.

Bitte hör auf, bitte hör auf, bitte hör auf, bitte hör auf.

I dug my nails into the heels of my palms as I wretched up everything I had eaten and drank in the last 24 hours. Even when nothing was left I kept going, raking my insides and scalding my throat. When I finally puttered out I started violently coughing and taking in deep breaths.

I sat back and leaned against the cool tiled wall, trying to ebb any sort of coolness into my body. I felt like I was burning up. From the inside.

I tried to steady my breathing, but it hardly decreased. The stomach acid coating the back of my throat didn't help. I was suddenly aware of something trickling down my wrists and saw scarlet blood dripping from where my nails were plunged into the palm of my hands.

I struggled to my feet and turned on the tap and splashed my face with cold water. I raked it up through my hair and down my neck, but felt no cooler. I yanked off my shirt and threw it aside and splashed my chest with the ice too but I was still just so gottverdammt hot. I hadn't thrown up after a nightmare in ages, not since the agency.

Every time I shut my eyes I was back. Even when I blinked there were flashes of the red hot metal and his glittering dark eyes and caging bed sheets.

The nightmares that had me react like this were always about him. I had other horrific dreams, those ones focused more on the echoes of physical trauma --explosives, gunshots, me slitting necks, even my father beating my mother and siblings and I over 20 years ago. But the worst were always about him. I burned up and threw up and bled out all because of...him. I don't even want to think his name. But of course my mind slipped. Flagg.

I want mein jay.

I forced my eyes open and stared at myself, my weak and shaking and paler than usual self in the mirror. I placed my hands on either side of the cool ceramic sink and tried to slow my heaving breaths. Scared light blue eyes we reflected back at me, along with sweaty white blond hair raked to the side, and clear water droplets dripping off my bare chest but still doing nothing for my temperature.

I backed up into the wall and slid to the floor, dropping my head into my hands. I didn't want to close my eyes but I was suddenly hit by a wave of exhaustion. My internal clock was fucked up previous to this late night venture, thanks to my sleep deprivation, but this was going to make it even worse. My fight or flight response was overstimulated and violently yanking me back and forth between the two options. All I wanted to do was sleep but I was feeling so much and was scared too much to do so.

So I stayed there. Slumped on the bathroom floor, head in my hands, eyes pried open, clammy hands covered in blood and chest dripping water.

I want James.

"Papa?"

I jumped out of my skin and hit my elbow on the lip of the bathtub as I scrambled to my feet.

"Nia, entlein, what are you doing up?" My voice shook. People can't normally sneak up on me. My surprise just went to show how lost in my own head I am.

She held her stuffed duckling toy to her chest and looked up at me with scared dark eyes. "I heard you scream. It was scary."

"Oh no no no no no I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you," I hushed her gently. I squatted down to her level and took her small smooth hand in my larger callused one. The stark difference in our skin tones and size still scared me sometimes. "I'm okay," I promised her.

"Did you have a bad dream?" She asked shyly.

I nodded. "I'm okay now."

"You're really pale," she noted quietly.

"Let's get you back to bed, in ordnung?"

"Are you gonna go back to bed?"

"Yes," I lied.

"I miss Dadda."

I let my shoulders droop. "I do too."

"When is he coming home?"

"Soon."

"You keep saying that."

"Well," I sighed, "the truth is that I don't know for sure when. But I know that he will come back." Dead or alive, I thought negatively.

She seemed to contemplate this in silence for a second before nodding reluctantly. "What do you miss most about him?"

Loaded question. I sat down on the bathroom floor again. "Everything."

"I miss him reading me stories," she pouted a little.

"I read you stories," I scoffed, genuinely offended.

She also plopped down on the floor. "His are different though."

She wasn't wrong. Even if we told the same story somehow James was better at it (even though I can do realistic accents way better than he can).

"I miss his voice too," I admitted. His hands, his touch, his words, even his hair that I could always see out of the corner of my eye due to the bright color. We both had nightmares occasionally, me more so than him and he always knew exactly what to do and what to say to make me remember that I was loved and safe and home. But I hadn't had a full-flown one like this since... Flagg had done his damage. That was a decade ago.

Scheisse, I'm old.

"Can you carry me?" Nia asked.

I smiled and stood, hoisting her up from under her arms and positioning her so she was nested into my side. She wrapped her arms almost all the way around my chest. She couldn't quite reach yet. I carried her up the stairs and set her back down in her bed. "Gute nacht," I murmured.

"Nacht," she yawned, holding her yellow duckling close again. It made me smile to hear her speaking German. One good thing to come out of quarantine was her learning more German than James knew. Her pronunciation was far better than his as well.

I wandered back downstairs again, not bothering to put on a shirt or even try and go back to sleep. I knew I wouldn't. I fished around in the cupboard above the stove via instruction of my screaming headache and aching taste buds. I pulled out the half empty glass bottle of whiskey Zach had given me in exchange for the one I'd given him.

Oh mein gott, me and my best friend were trading whiskeys. I was only in my 30's --early 30's at that-- and yet I've never felt so old.

Nevertheless I opened it and proceeded to drink straight from the bottle. Anything to take my mind off that monster who still plagued my dreams even after I killed him myself years ago. Flagg was still a dämon in my head and always will be.

I want James.

-

"How's five kids in one house?"

"They're treating it like one long, three-month playdate," Maisie sighed. "Lucas is more aware and is doing his best to follow the news. Luckily Zia and Cal can call almost every day. Blitz is going to have to brave it and stock up on food sometime in the next few days though."

Cal was working at the University Hospital Galway around the clock. He didn't want to come home to his kids and risk exposing them to what he was enveloped in everyday, so he was staying somewhere else closer to the hospital. Zia was one of the top epidemiologists and was away at a public health research facility in France working to develop a cure, so she was gone too. They had sent their three boys to stay with Blitz and Maisie's family in Liverpool, luckily before the travel bans started.

"We are not exhausted at all," Blitz told the camera.

Maisie grinned at her husband and ruffled his blond hair. "He's on babysitting duty 24/7 while I'm at work."

Blitz flopped back onto the bed they were sitting on and put his arms over his face with a groan. "I'm going to buy the shop out of coffee."

Maise and Blitz worked in the same police precinct, Maisie as an officer and Blitz as a forensic scientist. They had decided that Maisie would work during this time while Blitz stayed home with their 8 year-old Izzy and 6 year-old Eli, and Cal's 9 year-old Patrick and 7 year-old twins Henry and Oscar. Clearly Blitz was handling it well.

"I think that we should point out that clearly Deera and Laurie have it the easiest here," Harrison gestured at the camera. "Cleo and Oliver are so quiet."

"Sucks to suck huh Harry?" Axel smirked.

"Hilarious," his friend replied dryly.

Much to Jinx's worry, her girls and Harrison had convinced her to agree to order a punching bag and that's how their days were going. Harrison was going insane with not being able to go outside and run and move and all that other verrückt shit he did, and he had unfortunately passed on that hyperactivity to his three daughters who were also consequently losing their minds. I felt bad for Jinx when all she wanted was peace and quiet to write her articles. As a journalist she could more easily work from home than any of the rest of us and send her articles to the New York Times directly. An 8 year-old, a 6 year-old, 4 year-old and a chaotic husband was not exactly a recipe for productivity.

"I'm just glad that they have each other for company," Adira adjusted her knees where they rested on Axel's lap. "I feel horrible for Nia."

"She has Bailey," I reminded them. "She's spending all her time making ramps and houses for her. We currently have three Amazon boxes sitting outside in quarantine for 48 hours so Nia can use them to make a princess tower."

"That bunny is spoiled rotten."

"I'm not exactly the prime tea party guest," I admitted.

"She has you too," Adira reminded me with a smile.

I gave her a small smile back. I was grateful for Nia, so dankbar, but I could tell she missed her friends.

"Still no word from James?" Adira asked.

I shook my head.

"That's so bullshit," Jinx threw her hands up. "They can't deprive him of a phone, he has the right--"

"Jinx," Harrison cleared his throat. "Our Friday calls are a time for sharing life experiences, not complaining. I listen to you go off about the Trump admin daily even when we aren't in a pandemic."

Jinx humphed. "You're not doing any work," she grumbled.

"I can't lawyer from home," her husband defended himself.

"I am," Idania chimed in. "No rest for defense attorneys."

"There shouldn't be any rest for civil rights attorneys either," Jinx poked Harrison in the ribs.

"I wish physics majors were as unmotivated as you Harrison," Roscoe spoke up. "I hardly get Quinn to myself he's working so much."

"Listen!" Quinn called. His cry made Shakespeare shift positions on his lap with an annoyed mew. "I am legally bound to continue teaching through all this."

"And 'teaching' includes you showing Shakespeare to the camera every few minutes?" Jinx asked.

"Yes. He is a crucial part of the learning process. You can't teach inverse cosecants without cats," Quinn snipped, stroking Shakespeare's soft ears.

"Well Naranbaatar is also proving useful," Lucky said, gesturing behind where he was sitting to his currently teal-colored chameleon in its heated glass box.

"Thanks for showing him to my boys Lucky," Lautaro said blandly, "now they won't stop pestering us for a pet lizard."

"You're welcome!"

Whenever we had our group calls Lucky always showed us cool at-home flips and tricks he had been working on, which made all the kids ooh and awe. Nia had been badgering me to try to do cool tricks too, but I said it was too dangerous and that her standing on my back like she was surfing while I did push-ups was stunty enough.

"All of you have got it wrong," Cal declared. "Zach has it the worst."

"Ohhhh."

"Yeah, you're right."

"Makes sense."

"Fair."

We all contemplated Cal's statement.. Personally I believed that James had it the worst right now, but Zach was close second dealing with 300 aggressive, hyperactive, intelligent, hormone-crazed, deprived, weapons-supplied trained male spy agents locked in one area. The agency had recalled all of their agents in Europe back when this was just beginning, now all of them were back and had been tested. 49 came back positive. The whole agency was in quarantine. So Zach was probably doing fantastisch.

"This sounds bad but my job is actually thriving right now," Jinx said. "There's so much to write about, the Times can hardly keep up with all the new statistics and implications."

"She's just happy she now has an excuse to blatantly call Trump out on his stupidity," Harrison said.

"He's killing people!" Jinx threw up her hands again. "He's a fucking moron."

"Ha. You live in America," Blitz teased her.

Jinx flipped him off. "Don't tell me Boris is doing much better."

I shut the laptop.

I gripped my head and closed my eyes, trying to calm down the racing panic that was starting to course through me again. I battled against myself, brain versus heart, I could hear my pulse in my skull and I was suddenly choking on my own breath again.

No. Not again. No no no bitte, not again.