“Mana mila, why do you speak to me as if I were a child?”
For a moment, Sophie thought she was dreaming. Heart racing, she released him and slid out of bed. She walked around the bed and crouched down in the dimness so she could see his face. Instead of the blank, unresponsive gaze she’d seen for the last few days, Michael – the real, aware Michael – looked back at her.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” She flipped on a small lamp, relief pounding through her blood. Michael scowled at her, then lifted his arm and stared in amazement at the battlefield of puncture marks on it. The IV looked like it had been secured with an entire roll of tape.
“Of course it is,” he whispered crossly. “Who were you expecting?”
“It’s been hard to tell lately.” She headed toward the door. Michael gasped in pain, and Sophie turned back to see him attempting to sit up. She opened her mouth to tell him to lie back down, then thought better of it.
“Where are you going?” he croaked.
“To get someone from the medical team.” She saw his blank look. “I want someone to check on you.” She started out the door once more.
“Sophie, wait.” She turned yet again, her eyebrow raised. “Where are we?”
“We’re in the Soviet Republic, just south of the Orlisian border,” she said softly. “At the base camp of an aid agency coalition. You are safe here.”
Sophie heard him begin to cough as she raced down the hallway to see which of the medical team had stayed back from the camp. By the time she’d returned with Kathy, Michael had lapsed back into unconsciousness.
“Fever’s way down.” Kathy made a note on the chart. “And it sounds like he was much more lucid during this period of wakefulness.” She checked Michael’s lines one more time to ensure they were secure. “Come get me if he wakes up again in the same state. Sounds like things are about to get really interesting around here.”
-
February 16, 2014
Michael woke again three or four times in the next thirty-six hours. Each time, his periods of lucidity grew longer. In the early morning, Sophie was taking advantage of the pre-dawn quiet to get some work done at the nurse’s station when a thin whisper broke the quiet.
“Sophie?”
“I am here, Mikael.” She continued in his native tongue. “We are in the Soviet Republic. At an aid agency coalition base. You are safe.” She said it automatically, having reassured him with these words dozens of times since he had started regaining consciousness.
“I am hungry.”
She put the computer aside and walked to his bedside. He looked up at her with dawning awareness. “Why are you here?”
“Let me see who’s available from the medical staff, and see if you can have something to eat.” Sophie didn’t answer his question. She returned a few minutes later with Raj Patel, then retreated to the nurse’s chair.
“Dr. Nariovsky-Trent? I’m Dr. Raj Patel. It’s a pleasure to see you looking so much better.” Raj began his examination, explaining about the pneumonia and his overall condition. Michael looked resigned at the news that he’d probably need to have a few toes amputated in several months’ time.
“May I eat?” he asked when Raj finished.
“Liquids only for now. I’ll have someone bring you a tray. We’ll see how you’re doing tomorrow or the next day. Anything else we can get for you?”
“A set of scrubs,” Michael said. “And a shower.”
Raj looked doubtful. “Sponge bath is a better choice.”
Sophie could see the fury that crossed Michael’s features at this undignified suggestion. She chuckled as Raj took a startled step back in the face of his suddenly wrathful patient.
“I’ll keep an eye on him while he showers, Raj.” Dr. Patel turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s not what I meant.” She silently cursed the blush rising to her cheeks. “And get him a toothbrush too, would you?”