When he received word of a new visitor coming to his base, he didn't expect it to be a dying white kid.
He was called by someone from the United States Embassy about a call to help near his base. He sent a chopper and met the caller. A doctor. He was made aware that she was in Tanzania doing humanitarian work.
But she was fine. The person she was with, however, was not.
The moment Don Simmons saw the boy, he was shocked beyond words. this was a boy, likely a teenager, who was airlifted to his base, who was barely alive, covered in infections, wounds, and was practically a walking corpse.
But when he got the information about his body and the ailments afflicting him, he couldn't help but gasp.
The kid had a broken arm, which was apparently almost torn off by a lion, or a leopard. Probably a leopard considering he was found with a leopard hide cloak.
Back to the leopard, it seems it tore him up. The boy had claw marks on his chest, face and back. The face and chest ones were very vivid and will leave some nasty scars.
But the back, he had cauterized it. It was evident to the doctor that the back wounds were dreadful, but he cauterized it. That is not something a boy can just do.
The worst of the afflictions, was his ankle. And Simmons was shocked they didn't amputate it.
When he saw that ankle, it was black. It was dead. However, by some miracle, the kid will keep his foot. A lot of skin and tissue was indeed dead, thus why his ankle was black, but once those dead parts were removed, and the rest was patched up, the ankle would heal completely.
When he asked what did that, he learned it was a Gaboon viper.
Traces of its venom was in his blood. Faint, but still present. Luckily, they flushed it all out, but it was a miracle the kid survived.
But he felt no pity for the boy. That would be rude. He could tell. This kid saw some serious shit. And he fought like hell to survive.
'I don't know who you are, kid, but you earned my respect.'
Don Simmons promised to help get that kid the right treatment. If he was going to walk again, he was going to need some skin grafts, due to his ankles skin being removed due to being dead.
He can insure the kid gets perfect treatment. He wouldn't do this for anybody. But seeing the struggles of the kid, he deserved the best care.
———
Sam has been lying in bed for a while now, going over his new memories.
He thought about the canvas project. That's apparently what it was called. Bring 50 quirkless kids and make them fight to survive through cruel and unusual tests.
He was the only one to survive. He became the leaders canvas.
Just thinking about that guy brought a chill to Sam's spine.
'Wushan… is without question, a monster.'
Sam looked at his shaking hand. He could still see the evil smile and the rotten air around him.
He had to get out of Africa. He had to plead to these people who picked him up to let him go. Or else he would have to escape. He was grateful to them, but he needed to make sure he left without being caught.
The door opens, and Sam is brought out of his thoughts. He tensed up, getting ready for anything.
At the door were two Americans. A white woman in a doctor's coat and a black man in camouflage.
"Hello, young man! How are you feeling?"
The doctor gave Sam a warm smile.
"…Hey."
Sam was parched and didn't want to say too much.
She quickly went beside his bed and took a pitcher of water and poured him a cup of water.
"Here."
He took it and drank it all quickly.
"…thanks."
She smiled.
"Ahem."
Sam then noticed the black man was ready to talk about his story.
"Thank you Doctor. I'll take it from here."
"Let me check up on him, first."
She got closer to Sam.
"Any pain, numbness, tingling?"
"Pain… all over."
She gave a sympathetic smile.
"That's to be expected. You worked yourself to the grave young man. It's a miracle you survived. Just rest. You're safe now."
She said touching his hand as a sign of trust to him.
He didn't buy it but gave a polite smile.
She left and now he was in the room with the black man.
"Alright kid. Ya got a name?"
Sam hesitated.
"…Sam."
"Sam. I'm Don."
"Hi Don."
Don chuckled.
"Relax kid. I'm not gonna pry. You don't have to tell me much. Someone isn't in such a state if they weren't running from something. Luckily, you're on American soil, technically. This base is American territory. I ain't gonna let anyone snatch you."
Sam narrowed his eyes. This guy already knew he was running.
"Don't look at me like that, man. I ain't gonna hurt you."
"…I appreciate the help, but I would appreciate it if I could leave."
Don raised a brow.
"Oh? And where will you go?"
Silence.
Sam wasn't gonna squeal.
Don sighed.
"Alright, alright. I won't press you anymore. But I'm afraid you ain't going anywhere any time soon."
"What do you mean?"
Don stood up and took off the blanket covering Sam's feet. He was so lost in thought earlier he forgot about the worst of his wounds.
He looked down and saw his Ankle. He was expecting there to be no foot attached, but for some reason, it was there.
"W-why do I still have a foot?"
Don laughed.
"Well, kid, it's simple. You are a monster."
Sam flinched at that.
Don saw that.
"Sorry, sorry. I meant that, you are incredible. It seems that a lot of flesh around your ankle was unsalvageable, but after surgery, the doc was able to save it. It will need a hell of a lot of rehab, but you will still recover."
Sam was shocked.
"That's impossible. Even if the foot was saved, I'll likely never walk again."
"That is true, but luckily, the doctor who brought you here is a famous doctor in the states. She works closely with the number one hero Star and Stripe!"
Sam gawked.
"Even so, how could she-"
"She used her quirk to save the muscles and tissue that are needed for walking, but she couldn't save the skin and some of the flesh. Her quirk lets her move an injury to another nearby part of the body. She used it to send the worst of the injury into the non-essential parts of your ankle. Your ankle is still fucked. But it will recover."
Sam was shocked. He never heard of such a quirk. But that would be a miracle quirk if she can move injuries.
"Why would she do that?"
"She is here in Africa for some humanitarian aid. A geologist found you and called his buddy to get the UN humanitarians that were in Kazilamihunda. She was a part of the group. She called the embassy and they called me, to send a chopper to get you out."
Sam was shocked. They really went out of their way to help him.
"…thank you."
Sam didn't fully trust them, but he wasn't ungrateful. They really went out of their way to help him.
"You were lucky. Damn lucky. But that is regarding your ankle. You did everything else on your own. The doctor confirmed it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Don sighed.
"It means you freakin' should have died. Your body was fucked up. Not only was the ankle a mess, but your body was riddled with infections. A normal person wouldn't survive long with so many wounds and no immediate medical help. Yet you, you pushed yourself beyond the limits for a normal man. It was almost as if your body refused to die. Or was it your mind? Either way, you dragged yourself away from death."
Sam was silent.
"You earned a lot of people's respect kid. Especially mine. So don't worry. I won't push you. You can relax and I've reported that this base will help with your rehabilitation. Even Doctor Miller, the miracle doctor, will help with your rehabilitation."
Sam couldn't understand.
"Aren't you worried I'm dangerous?"
"You are dangerous kid. I know you have knife wounds and gunshot wounds all over your body. You were fighting for a long time, weren't you? And mercenaries are common in Africa. If I had to guess, you're an escapee. It's not as rare as you think for mercenaries to escape from their organization due to poor treatment. They can be hunted and killed due to leaving, mainly because they are filled with info that could compromise the organization."
Sam was shocked again. He was just outed.
"But don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I promise. You escaped. You fought through hell and back and escaped. I would be a fool to just let your efforts be for nothing. So believe this. I will help you, okay man?"
Sam didn't know why, but he felt the honesty in this man's words. He looked into his eyes and saw no deception. Only admiration and respect.
'Perhaps I can trust him…'
———
For the next couple days, Sam just layed in bed and talked with Lieutenant Simmons. Sam liked him. He was honest and spoke freely. He didn't beat around the bush.
He also got to know the doctor who saved his foot. Doctor Elsa Miller. She was a pretty lady from America, and it turns out she is called a Miracle Doctor. She is second only to recovery girl.
She also happened to be roommates with the number one American hero Star and Stripe in college.
They were both kind individuals and Sam began to trust them a bit more.
He decided to tell them some of the things. He told them he was a mercenary. He was forced to become one. He was first thrust into an armed conflict at 6 years old in Djibouti.
He left out the Canvas project. But he did mention his reputation. Miller tilted her head, questioning, while Simmons was floored.
"You are Canvas?!?"
Sam shushed him. He made them promise to not reveal anything he told them, so having him
Blurt out such things is not okay.
Luckily Simmons cooled down.
"…please don't call me that. That name is a curse."
He remembered Wushan and how all those other kids died because of his Canvas Project.
Seeing he doesn't want to talk about it they laid off. They know he is suffering. They watched him the past couple days and saw the horrific night terrors that haunt him. They also see how he mapped every single room for escape points and also watched people like hawks, studying their every move.
It was obvious he suffered from severe PTSD. Doctor Miller concurred with Simmons when he said it was severe PTSD. Something he had seen in friends in the military.
Seeing them calm, he told them how he had to fight for years and years. How he had no childhood and was forced to fight to survive in the hellish war zones of Africa.
He left out a lot of choice information. Mainly… Zola.
Honestly, he hasn't thought much about her. He was so hyper-focused on staying alive that he put her death aside.
Now that he was safe, he felt tears fall from his eyes.
"I-I'm sorry, Lieutenant. Can I please have some space?"
Seeing he was about to breakdown, they left him alone. They knew he needed to process things.
The moment the door closed, they winced as they heard the most dreadful wail in someone so young.
Sam was finally letting it all go.
"Why?! Why?! Why does everyone I love end up dying?!"
First his Mom and likely his Dad. Then, the 9 other kids he had grown to care for. Not to mention his best friend Charles. And finally, the light in this hellish life. The person who saved him from becoming the monster the Pale Hand wanted. It was as if the universe was determined to make his life miserable.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… I couldn't save you, Zola… I swear. I'll go back… for you."
Sam just allowed himself to cry. Finally, letting out all his pent up despair. What he let out before this was just a small bit. He had to force himself to calm down and stay strong. But now that he is safe, at least thinks that he is safe, he will allow himself to fully act his age.
Outside the room. Miller and Simmons could only listen to the mournful wails in silence. They could tell, he went through hell.
They knew they weren't dealing with a monster. He's a victim.
"I'm gonna make a few calls. I refuse to abandon this kid."
Simmons said with determination.
Miller, who was wiping tears from her eyes nodded.
"Me too… I'll help with his rehabilitation."
They both nodded, determined to help Sam. Not for any other reason, than the fact that he is a lost kid who wants to go home.