“What does it say? What do I do?” he squealed.

“Run upstairs. Touch the door to the bathroom and run back,” Darla answered and Teddy took off running, his little feet pounding heavily against the floor. She shifted her attention back to Ethan and ran her hand through her long dark hair, combing out her tangles with her fingers. “So, what do you want from me?” she asked.

“What should I do? I need ideas.”

“This was your idea. You’re on your own.”

“Come on—” Ethan whined. “I can’t take her to the movies. Or like to a fancy restaurant…” he trailed off. Then he looked at Darla with a crooked smile. “Or can I?”

Teddy’s pitter-patter began to make its way back to them; they listened as he stampeded down the steps and then rushed into the den, breathless, his cheeks pink.

“Just tell me what to do, Ethan,” Darla said as she crawled back over to their playing cards and flipped over another one. An X. “Game over, dude,” she told Teddy with a frown and Teddy started calling for another round.

“I’m going to need some help to get my idea up and running. Help from Dean and Spencer and Joey too. It takes a village,” he replied.

“That phrase doesn’t refer to dating post-apocalypse. Which,” Darla put a finger up, “I’m not okay with. It feels…”

“Normal,” Ethan finished for her. “I just want something to feel normal.”

“Too bad,” she said. “We don’t get that luxury anymore.”

“I disagree.”

“When is this date?” She spread out the cards on the floor, shuffling them and mixing them together with both hands.

“Tomorrow night.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Ethan beamed. “Does that mean you’ll help?”

Darla fell forward and rested her head on the floor of the den. She banged her head slowly against the wooden floorboards and mumbled something Ethan couldn’t hear. When she brought her head up, she looked at him with annoyed disdain. “I’ll help,” she conceded. “But only because I feel sorry for you.”

“I’ll take it!” Ethan replied with a wink.

Doctor Krause looked at the thermometer and shook her head. She reset it and tried it again, waiting the requisite amount of time until the beep-beep-beep signaled that it had reached the apex of its slow climb.

“How long have you had the bruising?” she asked Ethan and he turned away from her, embarrassed and ashamed. “And the redness. The oozing. How long?”

“A few days, maybe. Maybe I noticed it yesterday…I don’t know.”

“And you didn’t tell me? Ainsley didn’t notice when she came in for rounds?”

Ethan grimaced. Ainsley had been by to check on him, but he hadn’t let her be his nurse the past few days. Instead, he’d encouraged her to just sit with him, play cards, read books. She hadn’t complained about being relieved of nursing duty and it made Ethan feel like he was doing something good—allowing the girl, his friend, to have a life again that didn’t involve constantly checking on him. It was the unfairness of it all that got to him the most—Ainsley didn’t ask to spend her days bound to him. She deserved better than that.

“She didn’t notice…I didn’t let her check my leg,” he said and the moment the confession left his lips, he knew he had admitted something dangerous.

The doctor was quiet, like her daughter, stoic and unassuming, but she took her role as Ethan’s caretaker seriously. The flash of worry across her face was unmistakable and Ethan’s stomach sank.

“Don’t get mad at her,” he quickly amended. “I just didn’t want to feel like a patient. I wanted to be normal…I didn’t—”

“You are recovering from the most invasive surgery I can imagine…in a world without access to modern medical care,” Doctor Krause said, her voice rising, trembling, “And you think you can dismiss your nurse because you wanted a friend? Nothing about this is normal. It wouldn’t have been normal a year ago, let alone today.”

“It’s not her fault—”

She waved him away. “I can’t tell if the hematoma or the infection is causing the most swelling around the incision. But I need to get you on a round of antibiotics immediately. When did you run out of the other antibiotics? And further more…how many hours have you been spending in the chair? I said the chair was fine for small periods…then you needed to lift the leg.”

Ethan didn’t reply.

“Oh, Ethan,” Doctor Krause said in a sigh. “I need to know everything. I can’t help you if I don’t know everything. Let’s start small. How do you feel today? Tell me all the symptoms.”

He didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t been feeling great. There had been a subtle shift; an ache that he couldn’t get rid of, a headache that never disappeared. But the excitement over his date had usurped his health. He’d assumed the bruising and redness was normal—hadn’t he just lost a limb?

He cleared his throat. “Pain is worse. I…knew I had a fever…I could tell,” he replied. He watched as Doctor Krause closed her eyes, as if she were sending up a silent prayer. “The phantom pain’s been worse, but I can’t treat it with the meds. And I’ve been feeling pressure in my chest sometimes…I’ll feel like I can’t breathe. I thought maybe I was just having anxiety…”

“Stop,” she said and put up her hand. “Ethan. You are very sick.”

He bit his lip and looked away. “Well, I’ll do another round of the antibiotics and—”

“I think we should move you back upstairs. Elevate your leg on the bed. Have Ainsley come in multiple times a day for physical therapy.”

Ethan shook his head wildly. “No. No! I don’t want to get moved back up there. I hate it. It’s like prison. I’m fine here.”

“You’re not fine. You don’t understand…if I can’t stop this infection…” she stopped from finishing her thought. “You could lose more of your leg. And that’s only the best scenario.”

The thought of going through another round of amputations filled Ethan with dread. “But Ainsley and I have a date…tomorrow…”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Doctor Krause answered with a flip of her hand. “You are ill. Beyond my abilities.”

“What does that mean?” Ethan asked, his voice breaking.

“If the infection spreads,” the doctor resumed in a clinical voice, calmer, steadied, only her sad droopy eyes mirroring her worry, “then there is nothing I can do.”

“I won’t move back upstairs.” Ethan felt the pressure in his chest again. He coughed wildly and gasped for breath. Then he raised his head, and wiped his eyes, “And I have plans. Real plans. Dean and Spencer are helping and everything. Do you know how much that means to me?” He tried to control his emotion, settle himself, but his hands shook.

“I’m not saying this because Ainsley is my daughter, I’m saying this because I’m your doctor,” Doctor Krause said calmly as she rose from Ethan’s side. “There is no date tomorrow. No date the next day. No fun until your fever is gone, the swelling is gone, and your bruising has healed. Those are my orders and I’ll make sure everyone else in this house understands—”

“No!” Ethan interrupted, his voice full of anger and apprehension. “If I’m going to die,” he paused and waited for Doctor Krause to contradict him, but instead she crossed her arms over her chest and waited, “then I want to spend a night doing something special. I want that choice.”

“Choice?” The word triggered something dark and Doctor Krause’s eyes flashed. “You think you are entitled to a choice? Since when do any of us get choices?” She scoffed and turned on her heels. “I’ll be back. I’m asking you to meditate on your health and start thinking like someone who wants to live and not a short-sighted twenty-year-old boy…”

“Who is going to die,” Ethan finished for her.

She paused in the doorway of the den and then turned. “I’m going to do everything in my power to try to save you, but I need you to be smart. I need you to want to get better. I’ll resort to begging.” Doctor Krause gave him a sad, small smile.