Doctor's Orders - 2

I'd done so well for so long to hold on to the hope that one day, everything would be different. I fought and struggled, kept my head down, and did the best I could each day. I showed up when no one wanted me. I carried loads that my weak body was not meant to hold. I endured abuse and neglect and hatred because I believed that... one day... someone was going to see me for myself and not as Fumbles.

Tears welled in my eyes and dripped down into my hair as I stared at the ceiling of the infirmary. The doctor, for all the good she'd done to keep me alive all those years, had broken me more than Evangeline and her cohort of jackals ever could. And I saw on her face that she knew she had.

For the first time in three years, her gaze softened, and she stroked the hair at my temples away from my face.

"Shhh, hey... I'm sorry. That wasn't fair to you, Auri. Look at me, okay? Please?" Her cool hand cupped my cheek and turned my face toward hers. Thin lines etched across her forehead and the corners of her eyes. "I'll talk to Delta Hester, alright? I'll go to her personally and explain that you need to be on bed rest and isolation because you were attacked while fulfilling your duties. And I'll make sure that she doesn't take it out on you when you finally return to service, alright?"

"R-Really? You'd do that for me?" I asked, voice cracking under the weight in my chest. I hated how deeply I yearned for her kindness.

Goddess, I hated how a simple touch and a few soft words could make my heart ache and momentarily forget the venom she spewed at me before. But I did. Stars above, for that moment of weakness, I believed Doctor Andromeda cared for me, perhaps a sliver. Like how she had before.

"Of course. I would do anything to help you, Aurelia. You know that. Come on... let's get you to the isolation wing and get you settled."

Doctor Andromeda's hands found me again, gentler this time, as she helped me upright and into a wheelchair. She rolled me out of the empty infirmary, a fresh litany of soft, caring words pouring from her lips. And I foolishly leaned into the warmth of her presence behind the chair. Foolishly believed that my fortune was changing for the better.

"How long will I be in isolation?" I asked again after she pushed me into the dimly lit hallway of the west ward. Isolation was certainly the word. These were once the overflow beds during the early days of Snow Pointe, when territorial battles often left half of Snow Pointe's forces injured or dead. But that was nearly two hundred years ago, and the west wards were dark ever since. Cold, drafty, the smell of old blood clung to the air and walls, a remnant of the battles and darkness of the past.

No one came to the west wards. The air was thicker there, and it made my chest constrict with a new sensation: fear.

"It'll be at least a week before I can say for sure. I want to make sure you stay stable. Plus... I have some news." Doctor Andromeda stopped my chair beside a dusty bed and rounded to the front, kneeling at my feet to meet my gaze.

"I've been doing more research on your condition, and I've discovered a new treatment regimen. It's intense... and it won't be easy on either of us. But, I think, it could be just what you need to get up on your feet once and for all. But we need to trust each other and the process if we want any chance of this remedy sticking, okay?"

A new regimen?

Aurelia...

Arya's voice startled me. Weaker than before. Tired.

Arya? ... Arya?! ...

Silence. Terrible, frightening silence. It was enough to make my heart stutter and reframe reality. The doctor's sudden kindness and the gentle care didn't match. Not the way I'd been treated these last three years. It didn't fit with the horrible things she said to me when I woke, or the bruising grip on my arm.

I remembered... "No one will miss you..." That's what she said before suddenly changing her tune. The saccharine kindness was a lie. The medicine was a lie. Everything was a lie. I just couldn't prove it. Yet.

"Do you trust me, Aurelia? Do you trust that I can fix you and make you well?" Doctor Andromeda asked, her gaze dark, intense. It sent chills down my spine. The fear grew. An instinct, long buried under my need for validation and care, roared to life.

No.

Arya's weak voice, the feeling the medicine gave me on my moonday, the sudden shift in her demeanor. No, I didn't trust her. Not even a little. But I wouldn't tell her that. I was sick. Wheelchair bound. At her mercy. There was a reason she wanted me docile and compliant. A reason she shifted from cold and abrasive to sweet and kind. And it wasn't guilt or care. She didn't want me to fight.

So, I wouldn't.

"Of course," I said, smiling weakly at her. "I've always trusted you with my life."

"Good girl." She smiled at me, and I finally saw her fangs. The ones hidden behind the warm touches and gentle praise of my childhood. "Now, let's get you in bed."