delirio (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
delirio) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2015-06-21 10:15 pm
delirio) wrote in rainbowfic2015-06-21 10:15 pm
Entry tags:
Bittersweet #8 (FOR REAL THIS TIME)
Name: Jenny delirio
Story: H2O (Chapter 5)
Colors: Bittersweet #8: Missed Opportunities
Word Count: 3780 ish
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: No warnings this chapter :)
IMPORTANT NOTE: Somehow I managed to post the same chapter twice, and didn't notice the mistake until two weeks after the fact. :/ I'm reposting it with the correct text now. I've been so scattered!! Sorry, all. This is the REAL Chapter 5.
Notes: I am happy for crit, comments, or just readers. This is a story I want to publish, so feedback is highly appreciated. I have landed on posting full chapters at the moment--if you aren't able to read it all in one sitting, feel free to read to a chapter break and then come back to it later. I use *** to indicate a stopping point.
I found Anna attempting to get out of bed. In no good humor from my encounter with Domani, I demanded, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
She jumped at the sound of my voice, shot me a guilty look, and tucked her legs back under the covers. “I'm bored. I was just going to walk around a bit.”
“Bored? You haven't even been awake for two hours yet." I shook my head. "You’re not to get up unless supervised,” I chided. “It’s bad enough that you walked in your sleep. You need rest, Anna."
"But I feel better now," she protested.
I gave her my sternest glare. "You may feel better at the moment but that’s only the medicine working. You’re still sick.” I checked her teacup, which was empty again. “Good, keep drinking tea. Domani will make more for you if you ask. She is coming to sit with you until I return.”
"What a pretty name. What is she like?" Anna asked, running fingers through her crazy hair as if to put it into some semblance of order. I had to admit that Domani's teasing comment had hit the mark; Anna really was quite pretty, in a chaotic way with the wild curls and the freckles. Given her apparent strong will and coy humor, she probably ran men ragged trying to please her.
Aware that I was staring in silence, I said the only thing that came to mind. "She's a kind woman who likes to tell stories."
"Well, if those aren't just the simplest terms anyone's ever used to describe my long and storied career!" said Domani from the hall. She shouldered past me into the room, then paused. "Goodness, you weren't lying. She is pretty, isn't she?"
Anna looked from one to the other of us in sincere interest, and I coughed to cover my embarrassment.
"Anna, Domani. Domani," I gestured to my patient, "meet Anna."
Domani swept a curtsy, sitting on the edge of the bed with a flourish. She took Anna's hand. “You poor thing,” she cooed, "Dottore says you have no memory. Would you like for me to stay with you while he is off being important?"
“La, Domani,” said Anna, “don’t tease him so. He has been nothing but good to me, and he promised to buy me apples today.”
“I did?” Both faces turned up at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll see what’s available. Now, you—don’t push yourself. You can get cleaned up in the washroom but you aren't allowed to walk around otherwise. Lean on Domani if you’re unsteady. I expect to find you in bed when I return in a few hours.”
"As you say, Dottore," they said in unison. They looked at each other, startled. Anna tittered, and Domani merely sent me a sly smirk.
I wondered if I'd created an alliance I would regret.
"I'm going now," I announced, but the women were already deep in conversation. I supposed that was just as well. I grabbed my things and left the house. As I passed under the window that looked out on the street, I could still hear their voices. In a way, I envied their instant connection. For all that they were visual opposites--tall, dark, slender Domani and short, ample, rosy Anna--they might have been cousins at heart.
But I needed to go. The day wore on whether or not I dallied. I might be lucky to finish my work before dark.
I left my patient in Domani’s care and headed off to start my rounds.
***
When I had taken on the responsibility of medical advisor to the Pater, the first thing I had done was to commandeer the largest hospital in Tiberius as my base of operations. I was given free rein to establish a network of healers, and so I'd taken every single Bianco with even the most minimal first aid training. Of these, I selected the standouts to lead teams of their own so I would not be run ragged tending to the entire colony alone. So if the new healers were my army, then Valeria was my right-hand general. She was a full head shorter than I, strong-featured, solidly built. I had seen her carry patients heavier than her over her shoulder, and once, she'd wrestled a wild drunk to the ground and given him a good scolding after he'd sobered up.
Today, she met me in the hospital lobby, a cup of cold caffe in one hand and her tablet in the other. "Good morning, Dottore," she said. Her hair was starting to escape her plain braid, and her white suit looked rumpled, as if she'd slept in it.
"Good morning," I replied, unable to keep the disapproval from my tone. "You didn't go home last night again, did you?"
Valeria shrugged, falling into step beside me. "I took a nap between shifts. And Berthold brought me caffe. I'm well, I promise."
"I can't afford to have you break down," I admonished. "Emergency or no—I depend on you to make decisions on my behalf. Once you've caught me up, I expect you to go home and rest. Do you understand?"
She sighed heavily, but nodded. "It's just hard to leave. I expect every new patient is going to be…one of them." With her hip, she pushed open the door to the quarantine wing and waited for me to enter ahead of her. The click of the door behind us muted the sounds of the busy hospital.
The silence weighed on us, ending our conversation as we strode through the cool white light of the glass-lined hall. Even our footfalls seemed dull. In this place, no nurses bustled to make rounds. No orderlies wheeled stretchers or stood chatting as they did in the rest of the building. In quarantine, the Delirio patients slept, watched over by a single Bianco who sat behind a desk at the end of the hall.
"Berthold," I said by way of greeting. "Don't bring any more caffe to Valeria today. She's on strict orders to get some sleep when we're done here."
The young man ducked his head, though I caught the rueful grin he flashed to Valeria. "Dispi, Dottore. She threatened to twist my arm off if I didn't obey."
I allowed a smile of my own. "I believe you." As Valeria snorted, I checked on the results of the overnight scans. An anomaly caught my attention and like that, my relaxed mood evaporated. "What's this?"
Valeria pursed her lips. "That's what kept me here last night. That new one you brought in, the boy from the water plant. He started to wake."
I glanced up sharply, then back down at the readings. "He received the same dose of sedatives as the others, yes? He should be in deep sleep. How could he wake?"
She shook her head and sipped the caffe. "Your guess is as good as mine. We got him settled, but not after a bit of excitement where he nearly threw himself out of bed. Would you like some more good news?"
"No, but tell me."
Berthold and Valeria exchanged a glance. "We're officially running low on supplies," she said, "all supplies, from bandages to sedatives to painkillers. Requests to the Citadella are still being ignored unless we push, at which point we're told we'll get a delivery soon, but…"
"We've heard that before." I jabbed at the tablet screen with more force than I intended. "I'll talk to Algus. Again. I'll just add it to the litany of things I need from him."
"Dispi," said Valeria quietly, but I waved off her apology.
"It's not you. It's the damned system." I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. "Let's get through this so you can go home. We'll need to start looking at new ways to treat any further cases. We can't keep sedating everyone; this has always been a temporary solution. If only I could do some real research, I know the answers are in the First Colony records somewhere. They have to be."
"Then I will pray that Pater grants you access soon," Valeria said, and though Berthold murmured assent, neither of them sounded like they believed it would come true.
***
The rest of my day was a whirl of patient rounds punctuated by repeated calls to Algus and, when that failed to help, calls to the Pater's direct line. I was put off by his secretary, politely but firmly, and finally I gave up. At least I had no further changes in the Delirio patients, all of whom seemed to remain asleep without incident.
Bone-weary at the end of the day, on my way home I stopped by the soup seller in Cantabile to explain why I didn't have her bowls. When she heard the short version of the previous day's excitement, she sent me off with a fresh batch of the lamb broth I'd missed out on. Armed with three bowls this time, I looked forward to getting home to eat. But as I neared the end of the market, a flash of color caught my eye. In front of a stall across the street, a neat stack of apples from Vespa glowed like jewels in the setting sun. I could almost hear Anna’s earlier demand for them.
To buy them, or not to buy them? Would Algus smirk at me when he heard I'd purchased something not utterly necessary for a change?
Then again, if they were for a patient...
I made my way over and requested a dozen. For good measure, I took a few pears as well. These were green and shiny with bright coral-colored patches on one side. In another day or so they’d be ripe enough to eat. They were wholesome and sweet and I could claim their nutritive value as reason enough to buy them.
"Oh, Dottore, wait!" The vendor called after me as I turned away, laden with soup and groceries. I turned back, a question dying on my lips as I was confronted with a box of pale, blueish eggs.
"What is--wait--" I protested, but my words fell on deaf ears.
"Soup Mag said y'have a patient." He nodded smartly as he set the box into my hands and stepped back. "Eggs're good eatin', and my hens've been layin' well."
The soup seller had been busy, it seemed. "Gossip spreads faster than fire," I muttered. The vendor looked slightly crestfallen so I added, "Well...thank you. I appreciate the offer."
He brightened. "Good, good! Heal the sick, Dottore. Get 'er back on 'er feet."
I sent him what I hoped was a thankful smile and finally took my leave, the box balanced precariously in my arms all the way home.
***
Domani met me at my apartment door and took the eggs from me. “She’s sleeping,” she said quietly as we put the shopping bags into the kitchen. “I thought she felt warm but you can check. I washed her clothes and the sheets for you while she bathed, and brought her a few necessities. Then we had a nice visit until she was too tired to stay awake any longer.”
“Thank you,” I said with real feeling. “You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I wouldn’t let her clean up and get back into dirty clothes,” she said archly, but her eyes lit up at the contents of the bag. "Ohh, are one of these for me?"
I handed her the top container of soup. "That's to replace what I meant to bring you last night," I said. "Grazi."
"If this is the reward, then call on me anytime. Actually, do it even if there's no reward. Anna’s a sweet girl."
"Girl? She's not much younger than we are," I pointed out.
Domani shrugged. "She's naive. It makes her seem younger. This afternoon, she needed to be shown how to work the mechanical shower, like she'd never seen one before. And then she thought it was utterly wonderful."
Whatever I had been about to say escaped me as a low, vibrating moan swept through the house. Domani and I both froze as we always did, as if we hadn't heard it a thousand times before. I noted her drawn countenance.
"It's just the pressure," I said, "nothing more. Algus says--"
"I know what Algus says," she interrupted quietly. "You'll forgive me if I choose to disagree." The noise finally faded, ending with a whine that shook the faucet in the sink. Domani squared her shoulders. "I'd better go. Let me know if you need me tomorrow."
"I shall." It was perhaps the most normal exchange I’d ever had with her, and I was grateful for it. I would not have been able to handle her usual innuendos, not with the weariness I felt. “Anyway. Thank you again."
She patted my arm and disappeared down the stairs to her own apartment, leaving me alone with my cat and my sleeping patient. The former now wound around my ankles, asking for her dinner. “Too early,” I murmured, but I scratched her behind the ears in apology. "I'll feed you later. But now, I have to check on our guest."
Anna slept fitfully, her arm wrapped around an extra pillow that I recognized as one from my bed. I suppose I should have been annoyed that Domani had gone into my room, but as it seemed to bring Anna some comfort, I let it go. A quick scan showed a low-grade fever, so I gathered a bowl of cool water and a cloth.
At one time, I might have scoffed at such a thing. After all, we’d had pills and machines and technology to treat nearly anything. But since now the Church and the Condottieri stockpiled and dispensed medicine at their discretion, I was left with the skills I’d learned in a throwaway university course long ago, one that taught pre-colonization medicine. At the time, I’d thought it valuable only to pad my grade, but now I regularly called upon that knowledge to splint broken bones and suture wounds.
Now I sat by my patient's bed, cooling her fever with a damp cloth on her forehead. It must have been soothing, for as I began the rhythmic pattern to stroke away the perspiration, her stirring eased. She quieted at last; when I checked again, her temperature had returned to normal for the time being. I would dose her again with the medicine, later when she woke.
Gigia complained at me again, as it appeared I had never fed her in her life. I stroked her furry back and she flicked her tail between my fingers before turning around to walk under my hand again. "Yes, yes, Miss Put-upon," I murmured, "Let's see what we can find in the cupboard for you tonight."
She trotted ahead of me into the kitchen, checking over her shoulder every few steps as if she didn't believe I would actually follow her. She miaowed at me as I measured out her food, following my actions with her eyes from the counter to her eating spot until I set the dish down for her.
"Don't eat all of it at once, greedy pig," I said fondly, giving her one last scratch before I straightened. The groceries still needed to be put away, but as I reached for the bag, some movement in the hall caught my eye.
"What are you doing up?" I asked, ready to scold Anna for getting out of bed, but the words died on my lips as I realized that she was still asleep. She was silhouetted against the window at the end. I frowned. This was now the third time she’d walked in her sleep. It meant she wasn’t getting proper rest, and what if I didn’t catch her before she fell over something or hurt herself?
I moved to the hall, to keep her from going too far. She did not move, though, she merely stood there as if waiting.
I approached her with caution. "Anna?" I said as quietly as I could. "Anna. Can you hear me?"
The fabric of her nightgown rippled softly as if tugged by an unseen current. Her head turned slightly toward me when I spoke, the yellow curls shifting as she tilted her chin. I had the impression of floating, of drifting underwater. One hand lifted from its place at her side and reached out for me, searching.
I took it. I do not know what I expected; the grip was surprisingly soft. I felt like I was tethered to a buoy that would float away if I let go.
But at our contact, her eyes fluttered. Her grasp tightened; she let out a soft cry and stumbled forward into me. I caught her against my chest. My hands took her shoulders and I held her back to look at her face. "Anna, Anna, wake up. You were walking again."
She gave a quiet sob, but she listened to me. Her eyes found mine, large and confused. "D-Dottore?" she said in a small voice. "Dottore…do you hear it? It’s...so sad." A smothered gasp escaped her as if she fought against bursting into tears.
“What did you hear?” I should have guided her back to bed but I did not. “What are you talking about?”
“It can’t only be in my head,” she insisted. “I—I heard it. A voice, plain as day.”
Voices again. Let me in. “What does it say?”
“I…don’t know.” She bit her bottom lip. “I swear I heard it.” Once again she seemed dangerously close to crying.
Anything but that. I never knew what to do when a woman cried. “Shh,” I said gently. “You're still sick, Anna. It’s probably the fever dreams.”
“But—”
“You need to get back to bed, my dear.” I turned her around and escorted her back to her room. “If you do, I’ll bring you the dinner I bought while I was out.”
She seemed to have recovered when I returned with the soup and a pair of spoons. “I’m so sorry,” she said, clutching the bowl to warm her hands, “I’m being a terrible nuisance.”
“No, you’re not,” I assured her as I settled in the chair with my own bowl. I tapped my tablet screen and balanced it on my knee as I ate. I had all my notes from the day to review and then I needed to arrange training for some of the newer Bianchi who wanted to go into medicine.
“Domani was good company,” Anna said between mouthfuls. I glanced up from my screen.
“I’m glad,” I said. “She said she’s willing to visit with you tomorrow as well. I feel better knowing you’re not alone.” I gave her a brief smile and went back to work. Tomorrow, I would call for an inventory of the hospital’s remaining medical supplies so we knew what we had to work with in case the promised shipment never materialized...
I felt her still watching me. I tried to focus on what I was doing but it was difficult to concentrate. When I looked up at last, she took that as a cue to speak again. “You are terribly busy, aren’t you?”
I sighed inwardly but answered, “I have a lot of responsibility. Not only do I have you to care for, but I have other patients as well. On top of all that, the well-being of all of Centro is on my shoulders.”
“Don’t you have anyone to help you?”
“Of course.” I resigned myself to the conversation. I suppose there were worse things than talking with a pretty girl who seemed interested in what I had to say. “There are some Bianchi who aid me, and they manage much of the work that doesn’t require my full attention. I still have rounds to make, however, and I visit the Citadella often to report in and coordinate with the Church.”
“So you’re a Church man?” She cocked her head at me. “I don’t know why, but I can’t imagine you so.”
“No, I am most definitely not a ‘Church man’.” I closed the notes on the tablet and set it aside.
"Good," she murmured, then frowned. "I wonder why I said that."
"Force of habit," I replied. "I told you, things will come back to you little by little. Opinions, things you like and dislike, things that you feel. Those will be first, and the actual memories will follow eventually, I'm certain."
"Hmm." She drew up her knees and clasped her hands around them, resting her chin on them. "Domani says my aura is very strange," she said with a half-smile. "I'm like a chrysalis. She’s never seen anything like it before. It’s all shifting colors.”
I frowned. “I don’t believe in such things.”
“Domani does.”
“I know she does. She never fails to remind me.”
Anna grinned at that. “But that’s just it. I think that’s why I couldn’t picture you as part of the Church. You're not a believer.”
“It’s not like that at all,” I said, admittedly with a dose of indignation. “Domani talks about colors and energies and the like, but I believe in things I can see and touch.” I stood and collected the now-empty bowls to bring them into the kitchen.
Anna reached out suddenly, arresting me with a single finger. She pressed it against my shirt, just above my heart. I felt the warmth of her skin through the cloth and found myself unable to breathe. She studied the wrinkle she made in the fabric, then her eyes traveled up until they met mine, her lips curving in a lopsided smile.
“La, Dottore,” she said softly, “Does this mean I can believe in you?”
My mouth worked as I struggled to think of what to say in response. But then she removed her hand and freed me from that strange airless moment. Dazed, I straightened. My voice returned at last. “Get some sleep,” I managed, “I’ll stay in the chair tonight to make sure you don’t walk around again.”
She laid down with her arm around the pillow. “You don’t have to do that,” she murmured, “I don’t think I’ll be walking anymore tonight.”
I paused in the doorway. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I just feel it.” I could see one sleepy eye over the edge of the pillow. “Good night, Dottore.”
“Good night, Anna,” I replied, though I think she did not hear me, falling into slumber even as I left the room.
delirioStory: H2O (Chapter 5)
Colors: Bittersweet #8: Missed Opportunities
Word Count: 3780 ish
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: No warnings this chapter :)
IMPORTANT NOTE: Somehow I managed to post the same chapter twice, and didn't notice the mistake until two weeks after the fact. :/ I'm reposting it with the correct text now. I've been so scattered!! Sorry, all. This is the REAL Chapter 5.
Notes: I am happy for crit, comments, or just readers. This is a story I want to publish, so feedback is highly appreciated. I have landed on posting full chapters at the moment--if you aren't able to read it all in one sitting, feel free to read to a chapter break and then come back to it later. I use *** to indicate a stopping point.
I found Anna attempting to get out of bed. In no good humor from my encounter with Domani, I demanded, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
She jumped at the sound of my voice, shot me a guilty look, and tucked her legs back under the covers. “I'm bored. I was just going to walk around a bit.”
“Bored? You haven't even been awake for two hours yet." I shook my head. "You’re not to get up unless supervised,” I chided. “It’s bad enough that you walked in your sleep. You need rest, Anna."
"But I feel better now," she protested.
I gave her my sternest glare. "You may feel better at the moment but that’s only the medicine working. You’re still sick.” I checked her teacup, which was empty again. “Good, keep drinking tea. Domani will make more for you if you ask. She is coming to sit with you until I return.”
"What a pretty name. What is she like?" Anna asked, running fingers through her crazy hair as if to put it into some semblance of order. I had to admit that Domani's teasing comment had hit the mark; Anna really was quite pretty, in a chaotic way with the wild curls and the freckles. Given her apparent strong will and coy humor, she probably ran men ragged trying to please her.
Aware that I was staring in silence, I said the only thing that came to mind. "She's a kind woman who likes to tell stories."
"Well, if those aren't just the simplest terms anyone's ever used to describe my long and storied career!" said Domani from the hall. She shouldered past me into the room, then paused. "Goodness, you weren't lying. She is pretty, isn't she?"
Anna looked from one to the other of us in sincere interest, and I coughed to cover my embarrassment.
"Anna, Domani. Domani," I gestured to my patient, "meet Anna."
Domani swept a curtsy, sitting on the edge of the bed with a flourish. She took Anna's hand. “You poor thing,” she cooed, "Dottore says you have no memory. Would you like for me to stay with you while he is off being important?"
“La, Domani,” said Anna, “don’t tease him so. He has been nothing but good to me, and he promised to buy me apples today.”
“I did?” Both faces turned up at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll see what’s available. Now, you—don’t push yourself. You can get cleaned up in the washroom but you aren't allowed to walk around otherwise. Lean on Domani if you’re unsteady. I expect to find you in bed when I return in a few hours.”
"As you say, Dottore," they said in unison. They looked at each other, startled. Anna tittered, and Domani merely sent me a sly smirk.
I wondered if I'd created an alliance I would regret.
"I'm going now," I announced, but the women were already deep in conversation. I supposed that was just as well. I grabbed my things and left the house. As I passed under the window that looked out on the street, I could still hear their voices. In a way, I envied their instant connection. For all that they were visual opposites--tall, dark, slender Domani and short, ample, rosy Anna--they might have been cousins at heart.
But I needed to go. The day wore on whether or not I dallied. I might be lucky to finish my work before dark.
I left my patient in Domani’s care and headed off to start my rounds.
***
When I had taken on the responsibility of medical advisor to the Pater, the first thing I had done was to commandeer the largest hospital in Tiberius as my base of operations. I was given free rein to establish a network of healers, and so I'd taken every single Bianco with even the most minimal first aid training. Of these, I selected the standouts to lead teams of their own so I would not be run ragged tending to the entire colony alone. So if the new healers were my army, then Valeria was my right-hand general. She was a full head shorter than I, strong-featured, solidly built. I had seen her carry patients heavier than her over her shoulder, and once, she'd wrestled a wild drunk to the ground and given him a good scolding after he'd sobered up.
Today, she met me in the hospital lobby, a cup of cold caffe in one hand and her tablet in the other. "Good morning, Dottore," she said. Her hair was starting to escape her plain braid, and her white suit looked rumpled, as if she'd slept in it.
"Good morning," I replied, unable to keep the disapproval from my tone. "You didn't go home last night again, did you?"
Valeria shrugged, falling into step beside me. "I took a nap between shifts. And Berthold brought me caffe. I'm well, I promise."
"I can't afford to have you break down," I admonished. "Emergency or no—I depend on you to make decisions on my behalf. Once you've caught me up, I expect you to go home and rest. Do you understand?"
She sighed heavily, but nodded. "It's just hard to leave. I expect every new patient is going to be…one of them." With her hip, she pushed open the door to the quarantine wing and waited for me to enter ahead of her. The click of the door behind us muted the sounds of the busy hospital.
The silence weighed on us, ending our conversation as we strode through the cool white light of the glass-lined hall. Even our footfalls seemed dull. In this place, no nurses bustled to make rounds. No orderlies wheeled stretchers or stood chatting as they did in the rest of the building. In quarantine, the Delirio patients slept, watched over by a single Bianco who sat behind a desk at the end of the hall.
"Berthold," I said by way of greeting. "Don't bring any more caffe to Valeria today. She's on strict orders to get some sleep when we're done here."
The young man ducked his head, though I caught the rueful grin he flashed to Valeria. "Dispi, Dottore. She threatened to twist my arm off if I didn't obey."
I allowed a smile of my own. "I believe you." As Valeria snorted, I checked on the results of the overnight scans. An anomaly caught my attention and like that, my relaxed mood evaporated. "What's this?"
Valeria pursed her lips. "That's what kept me here last night. That new one you brought in, the boy from the water plant. He started to wake."
I glanced up sharply, then back down at the readings. "He received the same dose of sedatives as the others, yes? He should be in deep sleep. How could he wake?"
She shook her head and sipped the caffe. "Your guess is as good as mine. We got him settled, but not after a bit of excitement where he nearly threw himself out of bed. Would you like some more good news?"
"No, but tell me."
Berthold and Valeria exchanged a glance. "We're officially running low on supplies," she said, "all supplies, from bandages to sedatives to painkillers. Requests to the Citadella are still being ignored unless we push, at which point we're told we'll get a delivery soon, but…"
"We've heard that before." I jabbed at the tablet screen with more force than I intended. "I'll talk to Algus. Again. I'll just add it to the litany of things I need from him."
"Dispi," said Valeria quietly, but I waved off her apology.
"It's not you. It's the damned system." I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. "Let's get through this so you can go home. We'll need to start looking at new ways to treat any further cases. We can't keep sedating everyone; this has always been a temporary solution. If only I could do some real research, I know the answers are in the First Colony records somewhere. They have to be."
"Then I will pray that Pater grants you access soon," Valeria said, and though Berthold murmured assent, neither of them sounded like they believed it would come true.
***
The rest of my day was a whirl of patient rounds punctuated by repeated calls to Algus and, when that failed to help, calls to the Pater's direct line. I was put off by his secretary, politely but firmly, and finally I gave up. At least I had no further changes in the Delirio patients, all of whom seemed to remain asleep without incident.
Bone-weary at the end of the day, on my way home I stopped by the soup seller in Cantabile to explain why I didn't have her bowls. When she heard the short version of the previous day's excitement, she sent me off with a fresh batch of the lamb broth I'd missed out on. Armed with three bowls this time, I looked forward to getting home to eat. But as I neared the end of the market, a flash of color caught my eye. In front of a stall across the street, a neat stack of apples from Vespa glowed like jewels in the setting sun. I could almost hear Anna’s earlier demand for them.
To buy them, or not to buy them? Would Algus smirk at me when he heard I'd purchased something not utterly necessary for a change?
Then again, if they were for a patient...
I made my way over and requested a dozen. For good measure, I took a few pears as well. These were green and shiny with bright coral-colored patches on one side. In another day or so they’d be ripe enough to eat. They were wholesome and sweet and I could claim their nutritive value as reason enough to buy them.
"Oh, Dottore, wait!" The vendor called after me as I turned away, laden with soup and groceries. I turned back, a question dying on my lips as I was confronted with a box of pale, blueish eggs.
"What is--wait--" I protested, but my words fell on deaf ears.
"Soup Mag said y'have a patient." He nodded smartly as he set the box into my hands and stepped back. "Eggs're good eatin', and my hens've been layin' well."
The soup seller had been busy, it seemed. "Gossip spreads faster than fire," I muttered. The vendor looked slightly crestfallen so I added, "Well...thank you. I appreciate the offer."
He brightened. "Good, good! Heal the sick, Dottore. Get 'er back on 'er feet."
I sent him what I hoped was a thankful smile and finally took my leave, the box balanced precariously in my arms all the way home.
***
Domani met me at my apartment door and took the eggs from me. “She’s sleeping,” she said quietly as we put the shopping bags into the kitchen. “I thought she felt warm but you can check. I washed her clothes and the sheets for you while she bathed, and brought her a few necessities. Then we had a nice visit until she was too tired to stay awake any longer.”
“Thank you,” I said with real feeling. “You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I wouldn’t let her clean up and get back into dirty clothes,” she said archly, but her eyes lit up at the contents of the bag. "Ohh, are one of these for me?"
I handed her the top container of soup. "That's to replace what I meant to bring you last night," I said. "Grazi."
"If this is the reward, then call on me anytime. Actually, do it even if there's no reward. Anna’s a sweet girl."
"Girl? She's not much younger than we are," I pointed out.
Domani shrugged. "She's naive. It makes her seem younger. This afternoon, she needed to be shown how to work the mechanical shower, like she'd never seen one before. And then she thought it was utterly wonderful."
Whatever I had been about to say escaped me as a low, vibrating moan swept through the house. Domani and I both froze as we always did, as if we hadn't heard it a thousand times before. I noted her drawn countenance.
"It's just the pressure," I said, "nothing more. Algus says--"
"I know what Algus says," she interrupted quietly. "You'll forgive me if I choose to disagree." The noise finally faded, ending with a whine that shook the faucet in the sink. Domani squared her shoulders. "I'd better go. Let me know if you need me tomorrow."
"I shall." It was perhaps the most normal exchange I’d ever had with her, and I was grateful for it. I would not have been able to handle her usual innuendos, not with the weariness I felt. “Anyway. Thank you again."
She patted my arm and disappeared down the stairs to her own apartment, leaving me alone with my cat and my sleeping patient. The former now wound around my ankles, asking for her dinner. “Too early,” I murmured, but I scratched her behind the ears in apology. "I'll feed you later. But now, I have to check on our guest."
Anna slept fitfully, her arm wrapped around an extra pillow that I recognized as one from my bed. I suppose I should have been annoyed that Domani had gone into my room, but as it seemed to bring Anna some comfort, I let it go. A quick scan showed a low-grade fever, so I gathered a bowl of cool water and a cloth.
At one time, I might have scoffed at such a thing. After all, we’d had pills and machines and technology to treat nearly anything. But since now the Church and the Condottieri stockpiled and dispensed medicine at their discretion, I was left with the skills I’d learned in a throwaway university course long ago, one that taught pre-colonization medicine. At the time, I’d thought it valuable only to pad my grade, but now I regularly called upon that knowledge to splint broken bones and suture wounds.
Now I sat by my patient's bed, cooling her fever with a damp cloth on her forehead. It must have been soothing, for as I began the rhythmic pattern to stroke away the perspiration, her stirring eased. She quieted at last; when I checked again, her temperature had returned to normal for the time being. I would dose her again with the medicine, later when she woke.
Gigia complained at me again, as it appeared I had never fed her in her life. I stroked her furry back and she flicked her tail between my fingers before turning around to walk under my hand again. "Yes, yes, Miss Put-upon," I murmured, "Let's see what we can find in the cupboard for you tonight."
She trotted ahead of me into the kitchen, checking over her shoulder every few steps as if she didn't believe I would actually follow her. She miaowed at me as I measured out her food, following my actions with her eyes from the counter to her eating spot until I set the dish down for her.
"Don't eat all of it at once, greedy pig," I said fondly, giving her one last scratch before I straightened. The groceries still needed to be put away, but as I reached for the bag, some movement in the hall caught my eye.
"What are you doing up?" I asked, ready to scold Anna for getting out of bed, but the words died on my lips as I realized that she was still asleep. She was silhouetted against the window at the end. I frowned. This was now the third time she’d walked in her sleep. It meant she wasn’t getting proper rest, and what if I didn’t catch her before she fell over something or hurt herself?
I moved to the hall, to keep her from going too far. She did not move, though, she merely stood there as if waiting.
I approached her with caution. "Anna?" I said as quietly as I could. "Anna. Can you hear me?"
The fabric of her nightgown rippled softly as if tugged by an unseen current. Her head turned slightly toward me when I spoke, the yellow curls shifting as she tilted her chin. I had the impression of floating, of drifting underwater. One hand lifted from its place at her side and reached out for me, searching.
I took it. I do not know what I expected; the grip was surprisingly soft. I felt like I was tethered to a buoy that would float away if I let go.
But at our contact, her eyes fluttered. Her grasp tightened; she let out a soft cry and stumbled forward into me. I caught her against my chest. My hands took her shoulders and I held her back to look at her face. "Anna, Anna, wake up. You were walking again."
She gave a quiet sob, but she listened to me. Her eyes found mine, large and confused. "D-Dottore?" she said in a small voice. "Dottore…do you hear it? It’s...so sad." A smothered gasp escaped her as if she fought against bursting into tears.
“What did you hear?” I should have guided her back to bed but I did not. “What are you talking about?”
“It can’t only be in my head,” she insisted. “I—I heard it. A voice, plain as day.”
Voices again. Let me in. “What does it say?”
“I…don’t know.” She bit her bottom lip. “I swear I heard it.” Once again she seemed dangerously close to crying.
Anything but that. I never knew what to do when a woman cried. “Shh,” I said gently. “You're still sick, Anna. It’s probably the fever dreams.”
“But—”
“You need to get back to bed, my dear.” I turned her around and escorted her back to her room. “If you do, I’ll bring you the dinner I bought while I was out.”
She seemed to have recovered when I returned with the soup and a pair of spoons. “I’m so sorry,” she said, clutching the bowl to warm her hands, “I’m being a terrible nuisance.”
“No, you’re not,” I assured her as I settled in the chair with my own bowl. I tapped my tablet screen and balanced it on my knee as I ate. I had all my notes from the day to review and then I needed to arrange training for some of the newer Bianchi who wanted to go into medicine.
“Domani was good company,” Anna said between mouthfuls. I glanced up from my screen.
“I’m glad,” I said. “She said she’s willing to visit with you tomorrow as well. I feel better knowing you’re not alone.” I gave her a brief smile and went back to work. Tomorrow, I would call for an inventory of the hospital’s remaining medical supplies so we knew what we had to work with in case the promised shipment never materialized...
I felt her still watching me. I tried to focus on what I was doing but it was difficult to concentrate. When I looked up at last, she took that as a cue to speak again. “You are terribly busy, aren’t you?”
I sighed inwardly but answered, “I have a lot of responsibility. Not only do I have you to care for, but I have other patients as well. On top of all that, the well-being of all of Centro is on my shoulders.”
“Don’t you have anyone to help you?”
“Of course.” I resigned myself to the conversation. I suppose there were worse things than talking with a pretty girl who seemed interested in what I had to say. “There are some Bianchi who aid me, and they manage much of the work that doesn’t require my full attention. I still have rounds to make, however, and I visit the Citadella often to report in and coordinate with the Church.”
“So you’re a Church man?” She cocked her head at me. “I don’t know why, but I can’t imagine you so.”
“No, I am most definitely not a ‘Church man’.” I closed the notes on the tablet and set it aside.
"Good," she murmured, then frowned. "I wonder why I said that."
"Force of habit," I replied. "I told you, things will come back to you little by little. Opinions, things you like and dislike, things that you feel. Those will be first, and the actual memories will follow eventually, I'm certain."
"Hmm." She drew up her knees and clasped her hands around them, resting her chin on them. "Domani says my aura is very strange," she said with a half-smile. "I'm like a chrysalis. She’s never seen anything like it before. It’s all shifting colors.”
I frowned. “I don’t believe in such things.”
“Domani does.”
“I know she does. She never fails to remind me.”
Anna grinned at that. “But that’s just it. I think that’s why I couldn’t picture you as part of the Church. You're not a believer.”
“It’s not like that at all,” I said, admittedly with a dose of indignation. “Domani talks about colors and energies and the like, but I believe in things I can see and touch.” I stood and collected the now-empty bowls to bring them into the kitchen.
Anna reached out suddenly, arresting me with a single finger. She pressed it against my shirt, just above my heart. I felt the warmth of her skin through the cloth and found myself unable to breathe. She studied the wrinkle she made in the fabric, then her eyes traveled up until they met mine, her lips curving in a lopsided smile.
“La, Dottore,” she said softly, “Does this mean I can believe in you?”
My mouth worked as I struggled to think of what to say in response. But then she removed her hand and freed me from that strange airless moment. Dazed, I straightened. My voice returned at last. “Get some sleep,” I managed, “I’ll stay in the chair tonight to make sure you don’t walk around again.”
She laid down with her arm around the pillow. “You don’t have to do that,” she murmured, “I don’t think I’ll be walking anymore tonight.”
I paused in the doorway. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I just feel it.” I could see one sleepy eye over the edge of the pillow. “Good night, Dottore.”
“Good night, Anna,” I replied, though I think she did not hear me, falling into slumber even as I left the room.
no subject