Page 62 of Never Quite Gone

“Ah yes, the vital business of watching Dr. Monroe complete his paperwork.” Marcus's smile held secrets as he joined our vigil. “Though I must admit, his surgical techniques are rather... remarkable.”

Sarah leaned against the wall, her usual professional poise softening among friends. “Did you hear about his latest operation? Saved a child others had declared hopeless. His hands never shake, even during the most difficult procedures.”

“Like he's done it a thousand times before,” William murmured, then looked confused by his own words.

I watched them carefully, these souls on the edge of remembering. William rubbed his temples again while Sarah pressed her fingers to her forehead. Only Marcus seemed untroubled.

“The benefit dinner next week should help fund the new ward,” I said, drawing them back to present concerns. “Though convincing the board to approve Dr. Monroe's suggestions has been... interesting.”

“Especially with Dr. Vale's opposition,” Sarah added. “Though I can't understand why he's so against the renovations.”

Inside the office, Dr. Monroe gathered his things to leave. William straightened unconsciously, his protective instincts surfacing without context.

“We should go,” Sarah said, though she made no move to leave. “The night shift needs attending.”

“The new wing won't build itself,” Marcus agreed mildly. “Though I suspect we'll all find reasons to linger here regardless.”

William shot him a sharp look. “You sound like you know something we don't.”

Marcus's smile remained enigmatic. “Perhaps I simply understand the pull of certain places. Certain people.”

“Speaking of people,” Sarah interjected, “did you hear about Elizabeth's engagement? To that dreadful Thomson fellow?”

The conversation turned to safer topics - society gossip, hospital politics, William's latest attempts to avoid his father's matchmaking schemes. But underneath ran currents of something deeper, something none of them could quite grasp yet.

“Another late night solved nothing,” Marcus observed as Dr. Monroe finally left through the main entrance. “Shall we try again tomorrow?”

“As if we could stay away,” William replied, then looked startled by his own certainty.

Sarah squeezed my arm gently before leaving for her rounds. William lingered a moment longer, watching the empty office with troubled eyes. Marcus waited patiently, eternally understanding what the others couldn't yet remember.

“Alexander,” William said suddenly, using my full name. “Sometimes I feel like... like we're missing something important. Something right in front of us.”

“Perhaps some mysteries solve themselves in their own time,” Marcus suggested, his hand steady on William's shoulder.

They dispersed into the hospital's nighttime rhythm, leaving me alone with Marcus and the weight of knowing what came next. My old friend's expression held centuries of watching these patterns repeat.

“They're beginning to remember,” he said quietly.

“I know.” The words tasted bitter as temple herbs. “Sarah's dreams are getting stronger. And William...”

“Will remember everything soon enough.” Marcus's voice carried gentle warning. “The question is, what will he do with that knowledge this time?”

“He's different in this life,” I said, watching the corridor where William had disappeared. “Kinder. More balanced. Maybe when he remembers...”

“Some souls remember too much,” Marcus interrupted gently. “Carry too much weight from past lives. Your brother's love has always burned dangerous bright.”

We moved through the quiet hospital, our footsteps echoing off walls that had seen countless nights like this. The gas lamps cast shadows that looked too much like temple fires.

“I've watched him in this life,” I continued, needing Marcus to understand. “The way he cares for family, how he protects what matters. Even without memories, his soul tries to make different choices.”

“And yet.” Marcus paused by a window, moonlight catching the ancient knowledge in his eyes. “Even now, without remembering, he's drawn here night after night. Watching. Planning. His soul recognizes patterns it doesn't yet understand.”

“The ritual was never about power,” I said softly. “Not really. He just wanted to keep everyone safe.”

“The most dangerous magic often comes from the purest intentions.” Marcus's hand found my shoulder, steady as it had been through centuries. “Love that burns too hot inevitably consumes what it tries to protect.”

We stood in silence, watching night settle over the city. Somewhere out there, William was probably already dreaming - fragments of lives he'd lived, choices he'd made, power he'd reached for with desperate hands.

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