Doctor's Orders
I'm getting tired of just posting crap here, so I'm gonna post the beginning of an arc of an original story I've been working on. It's... okay, I guess. I just want to post it here in case my computer crashes again and I lose it. @_@ Which... is pretty damn likely, actually.
Ezra Simms and Imam Adil are my own original characters. I will murder anyone that uses them without my permission. Same goes for Ukawa, though I'm more lenient about her.
He had finally fallen asleep. The rain pitter-pattering on the bullet train window mixed with the gentle rocking and bumping of the train's movement along the tracks had done something I had been unable to do for days, and for that I was glad. Ezra had barely slept even before Seriph sent us to see the Japanese doctor she had referred my ailing love to, and the long trip to Japan had done his insomnia no good.
It was only natural that I would be relieved by his lightly snoring form, curled up with his feverish face against the cool Plexiglas window, and his long legs tossed lazily across my lap. I couldn't help but smile at the sight he made, nor could I help but wonder what the thirty-something Japanese woman sitting across from us in the compartment thought. She had been watching us with an indistinguishable expression since we had gotten on the train in Morioka, and at first it had been unnerving to me, but the moment Ezra had fallen into his light slumber, my nerves calmed.
He let out a particularly loud little snore, tilting his head a bit more into the window. His red face left a little oil on the window, and I was tempted to just pull him toward me. The hard window didn't look very comfortable, and until we knew exactly what was wrong with him I wanted nothing less than for him to be as comfortable as possible. I had even gone so far as to begin moving his legs so I could move him without making him stir, when the woman's voice cut the rainy silence, giving me pause.
She spoke first in Japanese, and noticing my lack of comprehension switched to English - I'm assuming in the faint hope I understood, as I doubt I looked as though I was familiar with it. In truth, my English was very good. It was the speaking it that gave me problems. "I don't think you should move him. The cool will help his fever."
I must have looked surprised at her observation. I only recognized his less-than-stellar state from having seen his face every day for two years, from knowing him. This woman had only seen him for the first time today - and she had only seen him flushed. "What makes you say he has a fever?"
"I am a doctor." her tone was almost chiding, and I offered her an apologetic smile. She didn't give off the airs of being a doctor; but then, neither did Seriph.
"I'm sorry if my question offended you."
The doctor just smiled, "No offense at all. Do you know what afflicts him?"
I shook my head, gently running my hand along the seam of his jeans. "Not at the moment. We're on our way to Kobe, actually. I hope the doctor we've been referred to see will be able to diagnose exactly what it is."
She hmmed, leaning back in the plush seat she occupied, and seemed to watch my hand closely. "I practice in Kobe - who is the doctor?"
I paused, not sure if I wanted to reveal that to an unknown in a train compartment. But on the other side of the coin, there was the chance that she would know something we did not about the specialist Seriph had referred us to. "Ukawa, I believe. Doctor Kaede Ukawa."
The woman seemed surprised, and a moment later I knew why, "What a fortunate meeting, then. I am Doctor Ukawa. I'm assuming you are Imam Adil and Ezra Simms?"
I nodded, giving the doctor a long look. There were only a few ways that she could have known our names, and it seemed to me that her being who she claimed to be was the most likely option. I was glad for it. I began to speak, but my words died in my throat as Ezra groaned in his sleep, his face pressing against the glass tightly for a moment before he slowly moved away, readjusting himself on the seat so that his head rested on my shoulder. His fever, I felt through my shirt, had gone up. Concerned, I kissed the top of his head, whispering to him softly words of love and encouragement.
"Ana uħibbuk Ezra." Doctor Ukawa tilted her head slightly at my words, obviously not understanding them.
She suddenly nodded, "I had been unsure of your origins, but I believe it is a safe assumption that you are Egyptian? Based on your dialect."
"Yes, I am. Though it has been many years since I last saw my first home." As I spoke, I had wrapped my arm gently around Ezra's waist, holding him against me silently. He had been gradually getting worse, and that disturbed me. "Do you speak Arabic, Doctor?"
"I do, though not the Egyptian dialect. I fear I am rusty, in any case." Her eyes had hardly strayed from Ezra's flushed face, and I understood why. She sighed, "I'd like to get him to my hospital sooner rather than later, but there are still a good two hours left until we reach Kobe. Doctor McKenzie's uncertainty of his illness intrigued me, and I want to help him recover."
There was no doubt in my mind that those words were comforting, though I knew that wanting to help and being able to were far different things - and if Seriph could not find a reason for his sudden illness, then what were the chances that a doctor that knew nothing of his history could do something she could not? My eyes fell to Ezra's black hair, and I sighed. What, I wondered, would I do if he never recovered? If he progressively got worse, and no one could save him? He sighed in his sleep, and I knew that my eyes were tearing as I shifted so his head was on my chest and my arms could easily wrap around him in an embrace.
Doctor Ukawa was silent - it was obvious that she didn't know how to react to such displays of public affection, and I found myself largely unconcerned. He was my love, and a wave of insecurity at the idea of losing him had filled me up. The only thing that made the fear lessen was the sound of his soft breathing and steady heartbeat, the feel of his warmth against my chest.
I knew what I would have done if I lost him, there was no doubt in my mind. I would follow him without hesitation. But that was the last resort, and I wanted to have tried everything to save him before giving up myself. He shifted again in my arms, my name on his lips and a little smile on his face - I held him closer, whispering more endearments.
"You love him, don't you?" Ukawa finally spoke again, and I glanced at her out of the corner of my eyes, though she was blurry - there were tears in my eyes.
I absently stroked Ezra's hair, smiling ever-so-slightly, "I love him more than life."
The train was slowing, and Ukawa's voice, when she next spoke, was full of what could only be called determination, and that was so very reassuring, "Then I will do everything in my power to make sure that he makes a full recovery."
Ezra Simms and Imam Adil are my own original characters. I will murder anyone that uses them without my permission. Same goes for Ukawa, though I'm more lenient about her.
He had finally fallen asleep. The rain pitter-pattering on the bullet train window mixed with the gentle rocking and bumping of the train's movement along the tracks had done something I had been unable to do for days, and for that I was glad. Ezra had barely slept even before Seriph sent us to see the Japanese doctor she had referred my ailing love to, and the long trip to Japan had done his insomnia no good.
It was only natural that I would be relieved by his lightly snoring form, curled up with his feverish face against the cool Plexiglas window, and his long legs tossed lazily across my lap. I couldn't help but smile at the sight he made, nor could I help but wonder what the thirty-something Japanese woman sitting across from us in the compartment thought. She had been watching us with an indistinguishable expression since we had gotten on the train in Morioka, and at first it had been unnerving to me, but the moment Ezra had fallen into his light slumber, my nerves calmed.
He let out a particularly loud little snore, tilting his head a bit more into the window. His red face left a little oil on the window, and I was tempted to just pull him toward me. The hard window didn't look very comfortable, and until we knew exactly what was wrong with him I wanted nothing less than for him to be as comfortable as possible. I had even gone so far as to begin moving his legs so I could move him without making him stir, when the woman's voice cut the rainy silence, giving me pause.
She spoke first in Japanese, and noticing my lack of comprehension switched to English - I'm assuming in the faint hope I understood, as I doubt I looked as though I was familiar with it. In truth, my English was very good. It was the speaking it that gave me problems. "I don't think you should move him. The cool will help his fever."
I must have looked surprised at her observation. I only recognized his less-than-stellar state from having seen his face every day for two years, from knowing him. This woman had only seen him for the first time today - and she had only seen him flushed. "What makes you say he has a fever?"
"I am a doctor." her tone was almost chiding, and I offered her an apologetic smile. She didn't give off the airs of being a doctor; but then, neither did Seriph.
"I'm sorry if my question offended you."
The doctor just smiled, "No offense at all. Do you know what afflicts him?"
I shook my head, gently running my hand along the seam of his jeans. "Not at the moment. We're on our way to Kobe, actually. I hope the doctor we've been referred to see will be able to diagnose exactly what it is."
She hmmed, leaning back in the plush seat she occupied, and seemed to watch my hand closely. "I practice in Kobe - who is the doctor?"
I paused, not sure if I wanted to reveal that to an unknown in a train compartment. But on the other side of the coin, there was the chance that she would know something we did not about the specialist Seriph had referred us to. "Ukawa, I believe. Doctor Kaede Ukawa."
The woman seemed surprised, and a moment later I knew why, "What a fortunate meeting, then. I am Doctor Ukawa. I'm assuming you are Imam Adil and Ezra Simms?"
I nodded, giving the doctor a long look. There were only a few ways that she could have known our names, and it seemed to me that her being who she claimed to be was the most likely option. I was glad for it. I began to speak, but my words died in my throat as Ezra groaned in his sleep, his face pressing against the glass tightly for a moment before he slowly moved away, readjusting himself on the seat so that his head rested on my shoulder. His fever, I felt through my shirt, had gone up. Concerned, I kissed the top of his head, whispering to him softly words of love and encouragement.
"Ana uħibbuk Ezra." Doctor Ukawa tilted her head slightly at my words, obviously not understanding them.
She suddenly nodded, "I had been unsure of your origins, but I believe it is a safe assumption that you are Egyptian? Based on your dialect."
"Yes, I am. Though it has been many years since I last saw my first home." As I spoke, I had wrapped my arm gently around Ezra's waist, holding him against me silently. He had been gradually getting worse, and that disturbed me. "Do you speak Arabic, Doctor?"
"I do, though not the Egyptian dialect. I fear I am rusty, in any case." Her eyes had hardly strayed from Ezra's flushed face, and I understood why. She sighed, "I'd like to get him to my hospital sooner rather than later, but there are still a good two hours left until we reach Kobe. Doctor McKenzie's uncertainty of his illness intrigued me, and I want to help him recover."
There was no doubt in my mind that those words were comforting, though I knew that wanting to help and being able to were far different things - and if Seriph could not find a reason for his sudden illness, then what were the chances that a doctor that knew nothing of his history could do something she could not? My eyes fell to Ezra's black hair, and I sighed. What, I wondered, would I do if he never recovered? If he progressively got worse, and no one could save him? He sighed in his sleep, and I knew that my eyes were tearing as I shifted so his head was on my chest and my arms could easily wrap around him in an embrace.
Doctor Ukawa was silent - it was obvious that she didn't know how to react to such displays of public affection, and I found myself largely unconcerned. He was my love, and a wave of insecurity at the idea of losing him had filled me up. The only thing that made the fear lessen was the sound of his soft breathing and steady heartbeat, the feel of his warmth against my chest.
I knew what I would have done if I lost him, there was no doubt in my mind. I would follow him without hesitation. But that was the last resort, and I wanted to have tried everything to save him before giving up myself. He shifted again in my arms, my name on his lips and a little smile on his face - I held him closer, whispering more endearments.
"You love him, don't you?" Ukawa finally spoke again, and I glanced at her out of the corner of my eyes, though she was blurry - there were tears in my eyes.
I absently stroked Ezra's hair, smiling ever-so-slightly, "I love him more than life."
The train was slowing, and Ukawa's voice, when she next spoke, was full of what could only be called determination, and that was so very reassuring, "Then I will do everything in my power to make sure that he makes a full recovery."