But I’m not like him. I can’t just watch him die.

“Goddamn you, Five,” I say through gritted teeth as I run forward and slide into the grass next to him. I press both my hands to his chest and use my healing Legacy, putting enough energy into him to at least stanch some of the internal bleeding, buying myself time to do the bigger healing. Five comes back to himself a little, his one eye finds mine and I think I catch the corner of his mouth twist into a knowing smile. Then, he passes out from pain and shock.

I need to get this metal pole out of him. Obviously I haven’t read a whole lot of medical textbooks, but I’m pretty sure removing it will further damage Five’s insides. Therefore, I should be healing him at the same time that metal is removed, hopefully to minimize the damage. I wrestle Five’s limp body into a sitting position, propping him up against me. Then, I wave Sam over.

“I need you to use your telekinesis to push the metal out of him,” I tell Sam quickly. “That way I can concentrate on the healing.”

“I . . .” Sam hesitates. He stares at Five’s mortally wounded frame and swallows hard. “I don’t think so, John.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t think you should save him,” Sam replies, his voice more resolute now. He glances over his shoulder at Nine’s unconscious body. “Nine, uh . . . I think Nine was right with how he handled this.”

My hand is on the back of Five’s neck. I can feel his pulse getting slower. I stabilized him, but it won’t last long. He’s fading. I’m not sure it’ll work if I try using my telekinesis at the same time as my healing.

“He’s dying, Sam.”

“I know.”

“This has gone too far,” I say. “We’re not killing each other, not anymore. Help me save him, Sam.”

“No,” Sam replies, shaking his head. “He’s too—look, I’m not going to stop you. I know I couldn’t even if I tried. But I’m not helping you. I’m not helping him.”

“Hell, I’ll do it,” Daniela says, pushing by Sam and kneeling on the ground next to me.

I stare at Sam for a second longer. I get why he’s refusing to help, I really do. I’m sure Nine wouldn’t be leaping to my aid if he was conscious either. Still, I’m disappointed.

I turn my attention to Daniela. She’s staring at Five’s impalement like it’s the craziest thing she’s ever seen. She reaches out one hand towards where the metal disappears into his chest, but can’t quite bring herself to touch it.

“Why?” I ask her. “You don’t know Five or what he’s done. Why would you—?”

Daniela cuts me off with a shrug. “Because you asked. Now we doing this or not?”

“We’re doing this,” I say, setting my hands on either side of Five’s wound. “Push. Gently. I’ll heal him as we go.”

Daniela squints at the piece of metal, her hands hovering a few inches away from Five’s chest. I wonder if she has the control for this. If she exerts too much telekinetic force she could end up rocketing the steel pole right out of Five and I’m not sure I’ll be able to heal his torn-up insides fast enough. We have to go slow and steady, or risk Five bleeding out.

Slowly, Daniela starts to push the metal. Five’s breathing quickens when she does and he begins to squirm, although his eyes stay closed. She keeps her focus and has better control than I anticipated. I press my hands to Five’s chest, one on each side of the wound, and let my healing energy flow into him.

“Gross, gross, gross,” Daniela mutters under her breath.

I keep sending energy into Five, sensing his injuries mending but also feeling my Legacy thwarted by the metal still in his body. That’s until I hear a wet thunk in the grass and realize Daniela’s successfully pushed the post out of Five. When that happens, I really amp things up, healing his lungs and spine.

When I’m done, Five breathes easier. He’s still unconscious and, for the first time I can remember, looks almost peaceful. Thanks to me, he’s going to live. Now that the moment has passed, I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“Damn, man,” Daniela says. “We should be surgeons or something.”

“I hope we don’t regret this,” Sam says quietly.

“We won’t,” I say, glancing at Sam. “I did this. He’s my responsibility now.”

With that in mind, and considering he’s still knocked out, I quickly undo the wrist-mounted blade from Five’s forearm and toss it into the grass at Sam’s feet. Sam picks it up, carefully examines the mechanism and then hits the button to retract the blade. He tucks the weapon into the back of his jeans.

I remind myself that even without his blade Five isn’t fully disarmed. I open up both of his hands, looking for the rubber ball and ball bearing that he carries around to trigger his Externa. He isn’t holding them, so I start patting him down. When they don’t turn up in his pockets, I know there’s only one place they can be.

Cringing, I peel back the yellowed gauze pad that covers Five’s ruined eye. Jammed into the empty socket is the glinting ball bearing and its rubbery partner. It can’t be comfortable to have those two things stuffed inside his head. This is the life I’ve saved—a guy who sees losing an eye as an opportunity for more efficient storage. I use my telekinesis to scoop the two spheres out of Five’s eye socket and chuck them into the grass. He moans, but doesn’t come to.