[22] I Rebuke Death! (Patreon)

It's peaceful up here. Is this heaven or merely a figment of my imagination? 

Joe felt himself float in an indescribably vast sea of infinity ruled by only nothingness. His astral being, like a higher form of existence, seemed severed from his body and reality itself. In this domain governed by oblivion, there was no pain, no worries; there was only unadulterated freedom of the mind. Despite being disjointed from his own body, he still remained aware that he was standing on a precipice of life and death. It was only due to Joe's raw will and survival instincts that the scales of Anubis had yet to tilt to the inevitable. 

There was dark thought within him, subtly goading him to just surrender to the void and become one with Death. However, there was something else counteracting the effects of negative thoughts — it was a beacon of light. The fragmented bits of his memories, especially those of his deceased mother, supported him, tethering him tightly to the world of the living. 

"Joe, please don't let our family's bloodline end with you. Even after I die, I want to be a grandma in the afterlife." Those words were from a sad memory when Joe's mother had laid on her deathbed, hope all lost, waiting for her clock's ticking to halt. It had been a joke, but it somehow resonated deep within his soul. 

No, I can't fall here. The major events are even yet to start and I have already been fucked over by an uncontrollable fate. Ah, have I always been a side character in this life all along? Thinking that everything will always go the way I want. 

No, my thinking had been flawed, I get it. In this world, everyone is a main character, but at the same time, they can become a background NPC at any moment. I refuse this fate. I rebuke death! Death wants me to be her eternal consort, I say fuck her! 

Slowly, Joe's soul and consciousness began returning to his body, away from the in-between, from life-and-death uncertainty. The fog surrounding his mind started dispersing as his indomitable human rooted him to life. Sensations that he thought he had lost gradually came back; the numbing pain hitting his torso like a freight train. The pain confirmed to him that he was no goner, but a survivor. The sounds of beeping monitors that he was oh-so-familiar with, started ringing in his ears like an annoying alarm notification. 

When Joe tried to flutter his eyes open, it felt as if the weight of the world pressed down on them, preventing him from seeing his surroundings. Nonetheless, as difficult as the task was, Joe finally managed the struggle after a few seconds. His eyes were momentarily blinded by the sudden influx of light from the fluorescent lights above before he could analyze his new environment. As Joe blinked against the brightness, his vision registered multiple white walls surrounding him and the antiseptic scent present in the air made him shift his focus to his own body. 

'This looks so serious. How did I survive that?' Joe winced in pain just by gazing at his deformed chest dissonantly wrapped up in bandages and tubes crawling into his body. There were IV lines on both of his hands, one was administering saline and the other was pumping blood into his veins. Joe felt a dull ache from the points of insertion, but it was pretty ignorable. 

As Joe attempted to shift his position in the hospital bed, a sharp, disconcerting pain originating from his spine, assaulted his nerves, making him tightly clench his teeth. 

'Darn it. That's horrible. They probably gave me thoracic epidural anesthesia, but it's clearly not potent enough to counter my almighty pain.' Joe sensed something inserted into his spine.

'Phew, it's good to be alive. If my spine had been severely injured to the point of destruction, then I would have become another Charles Xavier or Devoe. Wait...' A rare, intelligent light reflected off his eyes as realization hit him. 

"I am not entirely hopeless." His voice was hoarse when he attempted to talk, his throat and mouth feeling somewhat dry. 

As if on cue, the door opened, and a dark-skinned, beautiful woman dressed in navy blue scrubs peeked in before fully entering. When Joe observed her complete profile, he couldn't help but give a thumbs up to the God of culture. Her magnetic hips were curvy, not at all subtle as they strained against her trousers. When it came to the measurements, Joe put a stop to his full-body evaluation. 'I know it's a big letdown to the depraved souls out there.' 

"Hopeless, so you are awake." The nurse smiled down at him, her steps sultry yet measured as she approached Joe. 

"So you heard that?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I've got to say, you have a nice pair of ears." Joe returned the smile, making the nurse pause and tilt her head to digest the compliment. 

"You're smooth, but thanks for the compliments." She donned a tight-lipped smile while looking everywhere but him. 

"I am Nurse Eve, Mr. Petersen." She introduced herself before adding dramatically, "And you... are one lucky guy." 

"I thought so too." Joe shrugged lightly, but that simple action backfired on him as pain shot through his torso. 

"Go easy there, mister. You'll only hurt yourself if you make unnecessary movements." Eve rushed to the bedside and began supporting Joe. She gently fixed his posture and tugged the pillow into a more natural position. 

"There, there, all good." She sighed as she finally put Joe into a suitable position. Joe inhaled a whiff of her jasmine scent and found it relaxing, alleviating some of his pain. 

"You are a great nurse, beautiful, and young. Bet most of your patients enjoy having you around," Joe said casually while giving her a sidelong glance. 

"God, you're making me uncomfortable in a good way. But I'm not as young as you might think." Eve giggled, shaking her head happily. 

"Since you look quite energetic with the compliments, I'll go fetch Dr. Palmer for you. She's been meaning to examine you in case you woke up. I just took the liberty to have a convo with you since you looked kinda cute and strong despite the severity of your injuries." She placed a hand over her mouth, hiding her heart-stopping smile as she began drawing back. 

After Nurse Eve's departure, Joe's amicable smile swiftly evaporated, his expression transforming into an inscrutable mask, his eyes radiating an icy chill potent enough to freeze Antarctica itself. 

'I can't stay in the hospital. It makes me even more sick in my gut. I've never liked any hospital ever since I was young; it isn't surprising.' Joe pressed his head more into the comfy pillow. 

'Tch, being weak is not funny, now that I've been given a reality check. It's now that I understand what it means to be an ant or a pig awaiting slaughter.' A dark, chilling smile formed on his face as his mind raced with plans that could be executed the moment he left the hospital. As much as Joe wanted to pursue revenge for himself, he treated it as a burden, both psychologically and emotionally. He was still a non-player in the game known as Power. Joe had to calculate everything step by step before he made use of Rhino. 

Haha, it will be too lenient if he dies just like that. He will be useful, so useful that he will wish to die instead.  

In the grand scheme of things, Aleksei was just a stepping stone for him, insignificant compared to other heavy hitters in Marvel. While his threat couldn't be ignored at street level, Joe treated him as a mob. 

"I am also a mob to some degree," Joe exhaled sharply, his brows furrowing as he felt his throat feel stuffy and irritating. 

Joe's attention was piqued as the door steadily opened, and a familiar figure entered – a woman with wavy brown hair neatly coiffed into a bun, two loose strands framing her temples. Though her pale green eyes exuded focus and determination, they could not conceal the lethargy that swarmed her expression. With his enhanced visual acuity, Joe discerned the faint bags under her eyes, artfully concealed by subtle makeup. He had to strain his vision and analytical skills due to his less-than-optimal condition. 

"Hello, Joe," she said softly with her hands disappearing into the pockets of her lab coat. 

"Hi, Dr. Palmer. How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Forever?" Joe smiled, though it was strained. 

"You used to call me like that when you were angry or pissed by something or someone. It makes me feel like a stranger. Between us, there are no titles, only our names." Dr. Christine Palmer briefly closed her eyes before opening them with a tired sigh. A pained expression marred her mature features. She was hurting inside, seeing her deceased best friend's son in that poor shape. However, she had to be strong for herself and him. There was a reason she was a doctor who cared for her patients, but Joe wasn't just any patient. 

"I am not angry with you or anything. I understand your pivotal role in the hospital. It's something else entirely putting me in a bad mood, Chris" Joe slightly shook his head before shifting his gaze at the opened window, the city's skyline looking as beautiful as ever. 

A shadow of a smile appeared on Christine's lips as she briefly studied the monitors beeping beside Joe. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm not pressing." 

"Don't worry, it's nothing major. I just feel lucky that I've escaped death. That's all." 

Christine examined him, looking for any abnormalities. She then opened her mouth, slightly hesitating, before she continued. "I-I don't know how I would've lived with myself if you had died shortly after Ronny." 

"I'm glad you care about me very much, even if I don't deserve it," Joe replied, his previously cold eyes now radiant with warmth as he met her gaze. 

"Oh, Joe," Christine's expression mellowed, her eyes moistening. "I want to give you a loving hug right now, but I fear that I'll give you a death hug instead." 

"That's strangely funny, Chris," Joe coughed when he tried to burst out in laughter. 

"Try not to go intense or it's gonna hurt, Joe," Christine said soothingly while palming his bruised hand. 

"You're strong." She sat on the chair beside him. 

"Well, thanks. So, what about the road to recovery, eh?" 

"Oh, that's... It's going to take long depending on many factors." 

"What's your estimate?" 

"8 weeks, just for the fragmented segments of your affected ribs to recover. As for full recovery, that's gonna take months. However, it can be narrowed depending on how you respond to respiratory therapy and how well your immune system is. And..." 

"I think I understand the whole process. I get it." Joe didn't take it to heart. 

"You're taking it like a champ," Christine smiled and ruffled his slightly damp hair. 

Since she was done with her shift, Christine seized the opportunity to bond with Joe until the sedatives lulled him into slumber. Tenderly, she placed a small kiss on his forehead before carefully adjusting the sheets over his sleeping form. Only then did she take her leave. 

Over the next few weeks, Joe continued with his slow recovery while getting almost daily visits from a guilty-looking Peter, a red-eyed Gwen, and MJ also swung in sometimes after her acting gigs were over. Joe enjoyed the visits as they staved some of his boredom as he bided his time. And on June 31st, when he regained a fraction of his mobility, Joe 'escaped' the hospital. It seemed someone didn't want to pay the medical bills. 

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