Doctor Clementine’s voice rang out as she burst into the reception area.

“We got a heart! It's a match!”

Frank and Jane clung to each other, their faces full of gratitude. For the first time in weeks, they smiled.

The thought of moving Liora to the dangerous and unbefitting Bronx no longer mattered to Jane.

Finally, their daughter could be saved.

Liora was wheeled into an ambulance, her parents on either side of the stretcher, their hands gripping hers tightly, looking at her as if she was their only reason for living.

And maybe she was.

The van sped through the city, arriving in the Bronx in ground-breaking time. Liora was rushed into a room to prep for the surgery while her parents sat in the waiting room, their hearts in their mouths.

Jane, all nervous, finally said, “I’m getting us some coffee and sandwiches,” and slipped away to the cafeteria, more to get some air than the coffee.

Liora woke up earlier than was expected and a team of doctors swept it, running checks to make sure that her body accepted her new heart.

Fortunately, every test came back clear – her body had accepted the new heart.

She was ready to be discharged within days to the joy of her parents.

“Hey, my princess,” Frank said, as he kissed her hand, “How's my baby feeling?”

Liora managed a little smile, “I've got a bit of a headache, Dad,”

Hearing that, Jane bolted to the door, calling for a doctor while Liora and Frank exchanged knowing glances and shook their heads.

“You sure you're okay? "If you feel some kind of way, please speak up,” Frank said. He knew Liora had the habit of hiding her actual feelings because she hated to be a burden to someone else. A trait she has gotten from him, no doubt.

“I'm okay, Dad, really. I mean, I feel a little like shit, but it's nothing too serious.”

Frank ruffled her hair, “You're not fooling me, pumpkin. But you're tough. I'll give you that. I'll have the doctor check you again,”

Jane entered the room, a flustered-looking doctor following her.

“She's joking already,” Jane said, turning to the doctor, “Is that normal?”

The doctor nodded, pursing her lips to suppress a smile, “She’s doing remarkably well, Mrs. Quilliam, but we’ll keep monitoring her.”

___

“We're losing him!” a doctor shouted as more moved around Ezra's bed, frantically trying to stabilize him.

Machines beeped wildly as the movements got even more frantic.

Unseen, Tormund's spirit hovered over Ezra, a smile on his face as memories of Ezra's kindness and selflessness flickered – Ezra asking him to come into their apartment, giving him drugs, food and handing him a warm blanket to replace the old ones.

He raised a hand gently over Ezra's face, then faded into the ether, his purpose fulfilled.

Ezra's eyes opened, his chest heaved as he gasped.

"The doctor working on him staggered back, caught off guard, “Mr. Vespera, any pain? Do you hear me? "Do you feel any pain?” the doctor asked.

Ezra blinked, disorientated, his gaze flicked to the monitor and the IV needle in his hand.

“No pain. No pain. What happened?”

He closed his eyes tight as memories of the sharp pain he had felt back at the apartment flooded his mind. He remembered the fall and Ty shouting his name.

“You had a severe gastrointestinal infection,” the doctor explained, still trying to catch his breath. It spread far, too far. We thought we’d lost you, but… you’re stable now. No pain at all? We need to run tests to understand this.”

Ezra tried to piece it all together. He knew he'd felt pain for months but always thought it was nothing serious.

And now, he could feel nothing.

As the doctor stepped out of the room to order more scans, Ezra overhead him, whispering something about a miracle.

And that was what it really was.

The doctor returned minutes later, his expression a mixture of disbelief and fear.

“It says here that there's no trace of the infection. None. "It's inexplicable…” The doctor took a moment to wipe his brow. He stared at the paper as if the letters would somehow rearrange themselves and show that Ezra was still sick.

“When can I go home?” Ezra asked.

The doctor looked up from the paper, “

“We’ll confirm everything, but likely in two days,” the doctor said. A friend, Ty, is here. Want to see him?”

“Sure. Let him in. I thought that jerk ditched me.”

The doctor left and almost immediately Ty entered, beaming with smiles.

“Man, you scared the shit out of me. Docs say you’re clean – no infection, nothing. Like, you are brand new.”

Ezra raised a brow, “You sure look worse than I feel.”

Ty let out a laugh, then his face fell, “Tormund didn't make it, man. Just… gone. No warning, no illness. Fedora from the coffee cart found him passed out. They brought him here, but he was already slipping. Signed a donor form, though. Some girl upstairs got his heart.”

Ezra sat up in shock. “Ty, by God, I swear, if this is a joke…”

“Why would I joke about something like that, man?” Ty said. It’s wild. He knew something, I swear. Like he was ready.”

Ezra leaned back in bed, unable to explain the sudden calm he felt.

“I don't get it” he said as he stared at the ceiling as if it was supposed to give him some sort of explanation.

“You're out in two days, right?” Ty asked in a bid to change the mood.

“Definitely not about to serve a life sentence here,” Ezra replied. Ty snorted, “Be a good boy and get me some food, man. Something good, please.”

Ty smiled, relief washing over him, “Be nice about it, dude.”

They laughed, the weight in the room finally lifted.

As soon as Ty stepped out of the room, Ezra rose from the bed, IV gone, pulse monitor unclipped.

He slipped into the hospital slippers and made his way out of the room, feeling the need to just move and breathe.

To understand the sudden strength coursing through his body.