Seagulls swarmed overhead, cawing incessantly. Ocean waves crashed onto the rocks. White foam came flooding over a metal railing. The beach below was deserted of life. Long jagged spikes were embedded into that sand. They all pointed towards the sea and stretched from one part of the seaside to the next. In the middle were gargantuan footprints in the shape of craters. Within the hole were the destroyed remnants of the spikes. Sea water pooled in. Dead fish formed a macabre layer of scum on top. Fresh salt sea air melded with the stench of rot and decay. Where the sea once promised excitement, of unbound opportunities beyond awaiting across the horizon, now it only hid horrors deep within its bowels. 

Behind the seafront was a half-ruined city. Toppled over structures lay strewn like felled trees in a forest, detailing a path of destruction. Helicopters hovered around the pulverised corpse of an Abyssal, its mutilated body half buried in a tipped-over tower that it collapsed onto when it lost its head. Distant cries of orders came. Engine turbines roared. Jet engines howled. Plumes of black smoke dotted the landscape all of which combined to form a dark cloud above. Francois held up his hand to block the one ray of sun that had somehow penetrated through and temporarily blinded him. It felt like someone was sticking a light directly into his eye. Despite all the chaos within the city behind him, he fixated on a costumed woman with red flowing hair. She was leaning over the railing, staring off at the horizon. It was as if nothing in the world were more important than looking at the sea.

“Hey there…” Francois approached the woman with trepidation.

There was a suffocating silence. As he stood there awkwardly, he realised just how heavy his gear had become. Stepping towards the railing, he unslung his rifle, took off his helmet and dropped both on the floor. They landed and clattered with a hard thud. He rubbed his buzz-cut hair to wipe away the sweat. He felt thankful to take off that godforsaken helmet. There was a constant beeping punctuated by a faint whisper. Even now he could hear it ringing in his ears. He would be thankful whenever the engineers decided to fix that annoying issue. Hell would be a preferable alternative rather than having to listen to that infernal beeping for all eternity. Francois put it out of his mind and focused on the woman. It was the reason he was still here after all. Yet, she remained still and utterly inanimate. Whilst she tried to appear aloof, her eyes scanned the sea. She was a vigilant warden watching the waves.

He looked to his right and attempted to engage her in conversation. “What you did back there-”

“Just doing my job.” She sliced straight to the point and kept her focus on the ocean.

“Right… Hell of a job you got," Francois mused.

The pause lasted an eternity. They both looked out to the sea. The waves were near storm-like in their surge and strength. Dark clouds suffocated the few bits of light that had managed to sneak through.

“Look," Francois turned to her, "I wanted to say-”

She groaned and shook her head in annoyance "say what?”

Francois shrugged. “Thank you is all.”

The woman turned her head. His eyes met with hers. They burned an unnatural gold. He squirmed beneath her gaze. Francois found it unnaturally terrifying about seeing an impeccably sculpted face scowling at him with such scorn and disdain. Then, Francois huffed. He leaned harder on the railing for support, exhausted from it all. Exhausted from the fight, exhausted from the fear. All he wanted now was to rest, but this was something he felt compelled to do.

“We all heard the rumours, about you and the rest of the lasses. I thought it was a joke if I’m honest. Who the hell thinks some giant woman is going to come running down the street, leap over your lines and then punch a hundred-foot fish thing in the face? No one sane, that's who.”

She remained fixated, eyeing with great intent.

He laughed weakly to himself. “I wouldn’t believe it if I saw it. I still don’t believe it and I saw you. A massive woman, big as the bloody buildings around her, charging straight ahead. At first, I thought there was another one of those things coming, but when I saw you running up to that thing that was chewing straight through us and then seeing you tear its head off with that right hook I...”

Francois paused. “I don’t know. I felt something. Felt like cheering or thanking God or something. Something. But I don't know what exactly.”

Speaking it aloud made him realise his luck. “Relief I suppose. Just relief. Christ, I probably wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you turning up, jumping in and pulling all of our asses out of the fire. You saved a hell of a lot of lives, mine included.” 

Francois slumped. It felt as though the railing was the only thing keeping him from collapsing on the floor. “God, look, I’m sorry for rambling. Saying thanks doesn’t do justice for what you did today.” 

A wisp of a frown came and went on the woman’s statuesque face. “Don’t mention it.”

Francois shrugged. He felt he had to say something to her. At the very least, he owed him her thanks, both for him and the guys and gals beside him. One second he and his squadmates stared at a giant creature, the next an athletic beauty of equal size leapt over their lines, decimating it with a single mighty strike. No warning, no climatic showdown. The beast was there one moment, and the next, it was missing its head. It was difficult to believe this woman was able to do that, harder still to see her at a normal height. 

“I thought you should know is all. I know everyone is giving you the cold shoulder, but that's because we’re a salty bunch. It was a bad day for us, but everyone will warm up eventually.”

He chuckled grimly. “Give it time and you’ll probably hear them cheering for you when you come bounding down the street.”

Her scowl deepened and turned away from him. She did not look convinced in the slightest. 

Francois pulled a beer out of his pouch. He had several more stashed away. They were supplies procured from the quartermasters without their knowing. With how scarce beer was, or any alcohol for that fact, pilfering such items could constitute a hanging offence. So much had become scarce thanks to the Abyssals. Beer, even the cheapest sort, was luxury worth its weight in gold. Francois cracked one open. With a sudden hiss, a torrent of beer exploded forth with the force of a hand grenade. By the time he had realised his folly, all of his face was drenched in lukewarm alcohol. The woman’s stoicism weakened. She pursed her lips to stifle a giggle. Francois wiped himself clean, revealing his cheeks were now glowing red with embarrassment.

Francois grabbed a can from another pocket, “want one?”  

“I could be tempted...” A sly smile formed on her face, “is it going to explode when I open it?”

He grinned. “No guarantees.”

She popped the top. A quaint hiss, but no explosion. She downed the beer in one swig, crushed the can and chucked it into the sea. Francois watched in awe as the can hurtled away far off as she launched it with such strength and speed that it disappeared from his view in an instant. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Thanks for that.” 

Francois nursed his beer pensively after the display, taking slow sips, "least I could do for the woman who saved my ass. I’ve got a few extra if you want some more you know.” 

She nodded. Francois gave her one more. A crack, hiss and then foam formed on top. She took her time and took measured draughts, following Francois's pace. “You army boys sure know how to treat a lady.”

He bowed his head in an exaggerated courtly manner. “I try my best.”   

He extended his hand to the woman. “Francois, 24th Infantry.” 

She shook it. There was power behind her, as much as she tried to disguise it. Any harder, he might end up being flung into the sky to join the seagulls. Worse still, she could have thrown him far across the horizon to join wherever that beer car went. At last, he glimpsed the strength that afforded her the ability to slay an Abyssal with a mere punch. Alongside shattering most of the windows in the city. The blast of her punch was enough to suck the air out of the lungs of the entire platoon. They’ll be finding cracks in the foundations of most buildings for weeks to come thanks to that shockwave.

“Titaness, Abyssal Hunter.”

“Titaness?” Francois smirked. “Odd name for your parents to give you.”

She rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. “It’s a moniker moron. If you want my real name, it's going to take a lot more beers to coax it out.”

“Oh, so you're telling me my charm and charisma isn’t enough?”

She tried her hardest to contain her grin, "maybe it is, maybe it isn't."

They exchanged deep smiles with one another, their eyes locking. The waves behind started to die down and list against the rockface. Sunlight broke through the dark shroud. One of the rays caught her face, causing the Titaness’s eyes to sparkle like twinkling gemstones. Francois felt a surge of energy he never felt before. Even with all the despair of the day, looking into her eyes and her soft smiling face rejuvenated him. A trio of jets came screaming past, the furious roar of their engines snapping them both out of their trance. They turned back to their drinks instead.

“Well then, how about beer and some food back at base? Would that be enough to convince you, Miss Titaness?” 

“A dinner date already?” She scoffed. “You move quick.”

“I don’t know if you would call sharing an MRE ration and some warm beer I took from the quartermasters a dinner date.”

She tittered. “I could lower my expectations.” 

Francois shrugged, nursing his warm beer. "Women always do for me."

The Titaness snorted in amusement. 

“Hey, how about this. When it's all this shit has settled, I can take you somewhere fancy. A token of my appreciation for saving me and my squadmate's lives.”

The Titaness soured. It took Francois by surprise. She seemed more distant, more icy and reserved than before. “You think it will?”

“Will what?”

“Settle. You think things will go back to normal?”

“Course it will.” 

The Titaness looked at the desolation. So much destruction was wrought, even with the might of the military trying to stem the creature's advance. All those lost, all those who sacrificed everything. All that toil and struggle, and still their home was reduced to rubble. It was barely a city anymore, more a long and winding graveyard where rescuers were exhuming the remains of the fallen from. She looked back at Francois.

“What makes you say that?”

“I dunno.” He rested his back on the railing, now surveying the aftermath of the battle, “I believe it, that's all.”

She huffed a weary sigh. “How can you believe that? Look at what one of them did here, what they are doing everywhere. You think it's all going to be normal one day?”

“I don’t think it's ever going to be normal again. But you gotta believe things will go back to some form of normalcy right? You can’t think we are going to spend all our days slogging through shit.”

The Titaness grimaced and gazed at the sea, “I’m not so sure.”

Francois joined her. They both looked out over the sea. “Got believe it will come, otherwise wants the point you know? I dunno when this will end, but I’m sure it will happen someday at some point. We'll get through it.”

She turned to Francois. His cheeks were red, his speech slurred from all the beer. A complete lightweight. She smiled. Either he was an optimist or delusional, but it was nice to hear someone speaking of better times to come, even if he was a bit too far into his alcohol. A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.

“And one day, you won't need to wear that outfit.” 

She sulked. “I like it you know.”

“I guess someone has to. But it looks so…” Francois squinted. The suit was horribly white all over. It was unbelievably sterile that it barred on grotesque.

“Boring.”

“My suit looks boring? You think my suit looks boring?” Her brow furrowed, processing Francois's comment as if it were the stupidest remark she had ever heard.

“Yeah!” Francois took a hearty swig of his beer. His cheeks went redder still. He then began pointing at different parts of her costume. “Maybe get some colour on there, like patterns or something. Some purples or oranges that go with that red hair of yours!” 

The Titaness huffed. She hid her half grin as best she could. “I’m getting fashion advice from a jarhead… Where did my life go so wrong…” 

She did inspect herself, however. She tensed her bicep, tracing a finger over in a straight line and nodding in consideration. A pattern may spruce things up a tad over a plain white costume.

“It went wron-" he hiccuped, "wrong when you let a blind man design that suit.”

She chuckled, yet it was tinged with a hint of exhaustion. “Maybe it went wrong earlier than that…”

The Titaness stared off, caught in a silent reflection as she rubbed the back of her neck. Francois saw surgical scars at the nape. He then noticed smaller marks on her hand and feet. They looked recent but it was hard for him to estimate. The skin was still somewhat pink, meaning it had perhaps not fully healed. Yet, it was clear some sort of sharp instrument was used to make what looked to be incisions. When she touched the scar, a luminescent glow hummed for a moment beneath her skin. Francois blinked, unsure of what he saw. He wondered just how many of those little scars were being conveniently disguised by her outfit. 

“Anyways,” she focused back on him, “it’s the only thing that doesn’t tear when I grow.” 

Francois’s head bobbed from side to side. “Hadn’t considered that.” 

The waves behind died down and the far cries of military might seemed to be more distant. Both of them rested on the railing, sipping their beers. 

“Wait…” Francois looked stumped. He had the expression of a confounded caveman. “What do you mean, grow?”

“You know…” The Titaness tensed. Her muscles bulged. A horrific metallic groaning emanated. She shot up several feet and then loomed over Francois. Her new weight caused the railing she leant on to buckle and bend back. Seeing it before him struck fear into his heart. It defied all logic and reasoning. She was just willing herself to gain height. Francois couldn’t rationalise it.

“Like that.” Her voice carried far more strength now, enough to make Francois feel every enunciation. There was a sly smirk that stretched from ear to ear.

“W-What the-?” The colour drained from his face. All the alcohol in his system dissipated at the sight of the towering woman. She wasn’t as tall as beforehand, but having her standing directly over him was make him tremble.

She tittered. Each gentle laugh made his chest rumble. The Titaness squatted down. Francois came barely to her hips in height. “You’re acting as if you’ve never seen a woman have a growth spurt before.” 

“I-I…” Francois gulped. A drop of cold sweat trickled down his head. “I haven’t.” 

The Titaness sighed. The groan came again. Francois instinctively grabbed his helmet but was unable to save his rifle in time. He was forced to step back as she grew unless he wanted to be inadvertently crushed. He went from her hips down to barely her calf muscle in an instant. The rifle snapped as it buckled and then disappeared beneath her foot. She was biting her lip hard, her hands were gripped tight on her brawny thighs, digging deep into her outfit. Her physique engorged, her brawn becoming thicker and more defined. The ground beneath cracked under the strain as her bare feet bored. In the next instant, Francois was below her ankle comparatively when her growth spurt stopped. Her breathing was rapid, frantic almost. Each huff blasted Francois such that he had to battle her to stay upright.

“God that feels good.” Her voice was rife with bass. It was enough to make his skull rattle from its strength. When her senses returned, she looked down at Francois. Her cheeks reddened. He stared in awe.

“O-Oh!” She closed her eyes and shot back down in height. Instead of the groan, there was a pathetic whine. 

He regained control of his breathing and wiped his head. “Fucking hell…”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” She blurted out, tripping over her own words.

“Not that, my rifle!” He pointed to the shattered and thoroughly flattened pieces of what once constituted a weapon.

“Huh?... You… Weren’t scared?” She stuttered out. 

“Not really…” Francois shrugged. He played it cool. There was still a hint of fear, more so from being face to face with something so big when it had just equalled him in height mere moments ago. The adjustment from woman to giant woman and back again was tough to fathom. Whatever sorcery or science allowed her to do that, he did not wish to know or even pry.

“More shocked is all. I mean, it isn’t every day you see a woman grow that tall right in front of you." 

The Titaness beamed the heartiest grin Francois had ever seen. She laughed in relief. “Glad to hear it. Most are pretty terrified. Understandable really…” She rubbed her wrist. 

“Why?” He wandered over to collect the bits of his rifle scattered in the footprint. He sighed in defeat. There was a crushed can of beer pancaked flat, its contents leaking out to form a puddle.

Francois felt remorse that such precious alcohol did not survive the onslaught. “Why would anyone be scared of you? Well, apart from those Abyssals.”

The twinkle in her eyes shone like the brightest star. Her grin grew even wider. Francois lent on the buckled railing as best he could.

"You’re still a woman is all. Well, one who can defy science and grow," he pulled out another beer from his pouch. “oh yeah, and one that can K.O a hundred or so foot tall walking fish from the sea."

"You make it sound like you meet those kinds of women all the time."

"Not all the time," Francois cracked open the beer and smiled. "But I am happy to have met one in particular."

"Oh? And who might that be?" She smiled coyly. The Titaness rested by him. They were shoulder to shoulder.

"If you tell me your name, I'll let you in on that secret."

"Hmm..." she pondered for a moment. She rubbed her chin in an overexaggerated manner.

Radio static built up from the headset of his helmet. Orders then came blaring out. Francois pinched his forehead in frustration.

“Ah shit, I got to bolt. Sarge will have my ass for dinner if he finds out I dipped.” He grabbed the scattered parts of his rifle and strapped his helmet back on. Francois downed his beer and threw the can. It joined all the wreckage and ruin scattered about in the street.

He took out the other beers from his pouches as he started walking away. Two more precious beers. Part of him wanted to keep them for later. Instead, Francois turned and chucked them at the Titaness. She grabbed them with her usual accuracy, not even for a moment taking her eyes off Francois. He hadn’t noticed just how hard she was biting her lip. 

“Take em’. Compliments from myself and the 27th!”

There was a strange pulsating beeping in his ear. Radio fault no doubt he imagined. Those lazy engineers still hadn’t solved the problem. Strange that he hadn’t noticed it more.  He went back down the ruined remains of the street, trudging over the remains of a blown-out apartment, snaking past all the furniture that scattered the war-torn street. As he marched across the rubble into the destroyed city, the Titaness called out behind.

“W-Wait!”

He looked over his shoulder. The Titaness blushed. She twiddled with her hair and looked at her feet. If she bit her lip any harder, she could have made it bleed.

She finally looked up and cried out, “it’s Jennifer!” 

Francois smiled, "well then Jennifer, me and the lads owe you!” 

He gave a two-fingered salute, “Beers are on you next time right?”

Jennifer huffed, “you were meant to be taking me out to dinner next time!”

“I said when it's all settled!” He threw his arms out around, “does this look settled to you?”

“If you come by the barracks, I got some coffee, cheese spread and some crackers we could share if you are really that desperate!”

“Deal!” She shouted back.  

He laughed heartily.

"Guess I'll be seeing you later Titaness!"

Jennifer nodded. Then she grew. That roar of metallic groaning. Francois watched her explode up in height. It should have terrified him as it did before. Instead, he felt a sense of protection and relief. She was beyond a force of nature. A woman with overwhelming strength. To her, he would look no more like a little bug scurrying on the floor, something weak, fragile and easily trood upon. Yet, she beamed the brightest smile at him and returned the two-finger salute. It was hard for him to believe that this woman had been so icy minutes ago.

“And I'll be seeing you.” She then turned away from him and walked down the beachfront. Francois felt the strength of her footfalls dissipated over time. He was no longer hopping on the spot thanks to the weight of her tread. It quietened down as she went further away. Scratching his head, Francois turned towards the ruined city. 

He slid down a pile of rubble and went deeper into the desolation. So many abandoned buildings. Empty restaurants, shops and apartments. It felt like he had just wandered into a ghost town. Then came that infernal beeping. He couldn’t hear anything save for the beeping. No orders, no blare of military vehicles. The radio beep grew stronger. His head spun. Francois looked around. There was nothing save for winding roads littered with debris. They seemed to stretch and bend off onto the horizon. There were no jets overhead, no blare of tank engines, no barking of orders or the march of soldiers from afar. It was utterly still. There wasn’t even any wind blowing through. He looked back to where Jennifer was. He couldn’t hear the ocean or those annoying gulls. It was as though the entire world had died.

Then, blood trickled down his face. Francois touched his head. How had he not noticed the wound? Why was it bleeding now? He looked at his hands, down his body. His uniform was torn to shreds. Cuts, bruises, gashes all over. A light emerged over the mound of rubble he had just crossed. Like a bedazzled moth, he felt drawn to it. A gentle breeze brushed him, boosting him towards it. He heard something on the wind. A whisper, so subtle and faint, it melded with the breeze he felt.

“W-What?” Francois staggered. His legs went weak and fell onto the floor. He looked around. There was nothing. No street, no bits of rubble, no ruined buildings around him. Just the light that now sat on the horizon. He crawled towards it, but it became dimmer as though the dawn was being suffocated by endless night. His eyes were heavy. A growing desire to sleep ambushed him. When his eyelids began to shut, the beeping became mercifully quieter, the light dimming.

Francois rested upon a bed of nothingness. He felt cold. Afraid. Tired. Then came warmth. The void enveloped him. No more worries, no more fears. It tempted him to simply let go and become one with it. With fleeting strength, he forced his body to crawl to the light, reaching out with bloodied hand to grasp the waning embers. He knew the whisper. It called to him like a siren. When he reached out, the light slipped from his grasp, flying off further into the night. He crawled towards it, refusing to give in. One of his shoulders then went limp, forcing him to drag himself across the emptiness with one hand. He grunted, pulling his body. As he got closer to the light, the more his muscles howled in agony. All this pain came rocketing through him. It felt like he was being bathed in acid. Every nerve ending screamed. Yet, he pushed forward to the light. He knew something was waiting there. Francois knew there was someone waiting there. He stretched out and grabbed the light.

Then, as though he were witness to the explosive birth of a new sun, all the darkness was swept away in a tide of dazzling light. He was blinded, until a menagerie of colour flooded his view. It swirled and swayed as though he were drunk. When it settled, he could, at last, make out that a thin blue curtain surrounded him. Francois couldn't even turn his head. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a blood bag and an IV drip hanging by his bedside. A machine tracked vitals. Another was a huge box connected to a tube that led to a respirator that was firmly attached to his mouth. Wires ran from the contraption and into his left arm. Thin tubes were inserted all across him. A wireframe was attached to his shoulder. His left arm was wrapped in a cast. He scanned to his right. Beyond the edge of the bed was the top of a chair. Francois groaned. 

A silhouette formed beyond the curtain. A nurse flung it back. A squat fat lady in light blue sortie gear inspected a clipboard thick with papers. Her brown eyes met with Francois. She then darted off. When she came back. she returned with a portly black man in a white overcoat. They muffled something. He saw their lips move but no sound came. There was a ringing, a godforsaken drone that dominated his hearing. The duo then left. In the corner of this white room was a small television screen. At first, it seemed too far away but the blur dissipated. There were images of a ruined city. Flashes of wreckage. From on high it looked like two great footprints were stamped into the middle of a metropolis. The screen flickered. Other giant women were on the television fighting in a concrete jungle of so many buildings. His eyes stung with a dull throbbing pain.

“M-Ma’am, you need to wait!”

Footsteps pattered. Francois drew upon all of his willpower to turn his head. He met with the rose-red-haired figure. Jennifer halted at the door, stunned in shock. She looked hollow. Dark circles surrounded her eyes and her hair was tattered and wild. She sprinted across, near enough throwing the nurse and doctor aside to sit beside him. Jennifer held Francois’s head. Tears streamed down her face. It looked as though she had not slept for days.

“I thought-” She tried to speak. Her voice cracked, choking on her tears. Words lodged in her throat. Jennifer ran her hand across Francois’ cheek. She wept. A mechanical groan came. Jennifer began to grow, her baggy clothes tightening around her athletic frame. Her tanktop and pyjama pants adhered against her athletic frame. The staff around watched in awe as she shot up in height. A whine came from the hospital bed as it began to buckle beneath her increasing weight.

Francois returned a fragile smile. Jennifer wiped away her tears. Her growth abated, having almost doubled in height.

“I…” Francois’s words were meek. His throat was scratchy. It felt as though he had been deprived of water for all of his life. 

Jennifer loomed over him. She moved in closer to listen.

“I...” He brought all his might to bear to lift his arm. All the weight of the world seemed to rest on him. All that might he conjured was barely enough to point a finger toward the television screen.

She gazed over her shoulder. Jennifer looked defeated, shrinking into herself as the footage rolled. “Don’t…”

"M-Ma'am, you need to let him rest." The doctor came beside Jennifer. He hunched over himself, intimated by the Amazon-like woman in front of him.

She turned slowly. Her dark scowl could terrify statues into running from her. The doctor and nurse stepped back, fearful of her. Jennifer's voice barely veiled her anger, "He's just woken up and you want me to leave him?" 

Her knuckles cracked as her hand balled into a fist. "I am not leaving him, not now, not ever."

The doctor somehow stood resolute against the near twenty-foot-tall Jennifer whose head was bumping against the ceiling. "P-Please ma'am, he's just barely awoken from a month-long coma. He's going to be confused... disorientated. He may not fully understand exactly what has happened to him or where he is. We don't want him going into shock, relapsing or worse." 

Jennifer went to speak then halted. She looked down at her feet instead.

"Let him rest. Him opening his eyes and speaking after so long is a good sign, but we will need to monitor him to make sure there will be no short or long-term issues to his recovery."

She sighed in frustration. A whine came as she shrunk down in height. Her clothes were slightly torn at the seams. "I understand doc. I'm sorry about that, it's just..." 

"I understand ma'am, but he'll pull through. If he's recovering from his coma this early, your man is clearly as tough as they come. I have full confidence he'll pull through this, as you will."

Jennifer smiled at the doc. She looked over Francois. He had fallen back to sleep. The sight of so many medical instruments plugged into him broke her heart. Ventilator, respirator, IV drip, blood bag, heart monitor. He was more machine than man. Then there were all the Ilizarov frames bound to his legs. Along his head was one long stitch where falling rubble from his office torn a gash in his head. There were numerous other scars covered by his hospital gown. Jennifer rubbed her nape.

"Thank you, but can I stay with him for just a while longer?" 

The doctor looked at his assistant, who hesitantly nodded. He said, "It is outside visiting hours, but we can make an exception, considering the extraordinary circumstances. When the night care nurses come, you will need to leave him and return in the morning."

Jennifer nodded and sat down on the chair next to the bed. The doctor and nurse let her be as they departed the ward. Jennifer gripped his hand, wrapped her fingers around his and then leaned on the bed. The pumping of the ventilator and the beeping on the monitor that so annoyed her were drowned out as she held his hand. She wondered if he could hear her if Francois had been able to listen to her every time she visited. It felt like inane regurgitation at this point. The same old story repeated time after time over the month. Just as she was about to leave, she always told him the same one. She loved it the most. A time when she felt unsure and lost, worrying about so much. She grimly chuckled to herself. Jennifer thought the only reason Francois had woken up was just to stop her from retelling it another time. If that were true, then maybe telling it a few times more wouldn't hurt him. Fondly recalling that story certainly helped to keep her spirits high in the last terrible month of her life. 

"Remember when we first met?" Jennifer whispered to him.