(no subject)
Title: First Time
Story: Tempus Edax Rerum
Characters: Nathan, Kris
Flavours: Pumpkin Pie #7 [Special effects]; Chocolate Gelato #28 [Non sequitur]
Toppings: Gummy Bunnies - 500themes #191 [You're only sleeping]
Extras: N/A
Word count: 2,042
Rating: PG
Summary: "You're in the hospital," the woman replied. "Someone found you at the side of the road, brought you in - you have the flu, like so many others here."
Notes: So much for posting this on time. Sigh. It just wouldn't come out properly at first :/
1.45 p.m.
17th September 1918.
Boston, United States.
It hurt to move.
It was his muscles, Nathan thought - and not the usual pain that came from an over-enthusiastic gym session or football game the day before.
No, this was something else entirely.
He opened his eyes slowly, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to get used to the stark lighting overhead. A woman smiled down at him. Nathan tried to lift his head but couldn't. He exhaled a shaky breath.
"Where-" The word scratched uncomfortably in his throat and the woman turned away for just a second.
"Try drinking this," she said quietly.
She put an unreasonably strong arm around his shoulders and held him up, tipping the glass so that cool, sweet water dribbled between his lips. Nathan backed off a little when he'd drunk enough and the nurse put the glass back down, lowering him gently.
"Where am I?" Nathan croaked. He couldn't remember anything - well, nothing that would explain his being here, anyway. He had to be sick; that much was obvious - but how?
"You're in the hospital," the woman replied. "Someone found you by the side of the road, brought you in - you have the flu, like so many others here."
Nathan tried to think. The flu? But that wasn't that bad, not really- And what had he been doing by the side of the road in the first place?
The woman smiled encouragingly at him again, though Nathan could now see that it was a little tired around the edges, lines gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Rest," she said. "Try and sleep some more."
Nathan closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him once more.
*
3.26 a.m.
2nd August 2011.
London, England.
Kris woke with a start, her heart thumping against her ribs. It only took her a moment to assess the situation; there was no one in the flat, no external source that had dragged her out of sleep. No, it had been something else - something internal.
She reached over and flicked on the lamp, light flooding the room. Frankie was nowhere close; and Kris hadn't felt her sister travel since the end of that meeting with Dionne, when she'd come back to the flat in a fury and had packed a bag, leaving her behind again.
Kris shook her head. Frankie would be back soon and she knew it was better her sister had her own time and space to work out what she was going to do.
But this - this that had disturbed her; someone familiar, someone so familiar but the travelling had been ragged, that of someone not yet-
Nathan?!
Kris flung the covers back, leaping out of bed and crossing to her wardrobe. She grabbed some plain-looking clothes - she didn't plan on being in any one place for too long, just enough to grab Nathan and leave - and pulled them on, running her fingers through her hair to dislodge any knots.
Only after she'd tied her shoes did she realise what she was doing. She hadn't travelled in years - and had never, ever travelled alone; if she was off by only a little, if she got stuck there-
Kris took a breath and reached into the drawer by her bed, pulling out an old brass watch, the kind nurses wore on their uniforms - but ever so slightly bigger. Frankie wasn't here, so it was up to her. She could follow the trail where her sister couldn't, anyway. This might be the better plan.
She twisted the dials on the side of the watch, closed her eyes and-
Vanished.
*
6.54 a.m.
23rd September 1918.
Boston, United States.
Kris leaned heavily against a wall as she reappeared, feeling all of her energy drain away. The thumping had already begun behind her eyes; a symptom that would only get worse the longer she was here, she knew that.
She glanced at her watch and felt for Nathan's time stream. She'd say the nineteen twenties, if she had to guess, though she supposed she might be out by a couple of years either way.
Still, the ragged green was ever-present, stronger here than it had felt back at the flat. Kris pushed her watch into her pocket and stood straight, taking deep breaths to fight the waves of nausea as she did so. Okay. She could sense Nathan's time stream now, properly. She just had to follow it.
*
7.34 a.m.
23rd September 1918.
Boston, United States.
Nathan felt like he was the only one recovering. He'd been here for five days - that he could remember, but he thought it might be closer to a week, really - and had seen the amount of men who had died; men his age, apparently healthy before they'd arrived.
He knew what it was, once he'd worked out the year. 1918. Spanish Flu. He knew he was lucky to be alive; and that now, able to sit up and hold a normal conversation without feeling like the air itself was heavy, he was going to survive this.
He'd told the nurses his name in the end, but of course they couldn't find any of his records - not that they had time to search that hard, either. He was finding it hard to lie, but recognising it as a necessity.
"You weren't born here, though?" said one of the nurses, as she checked on him for the second time that morning. "You're not American."
"The accent, huh?" Nathan laughed, though that brought on another coughing fit and the nurse looked at him with concern. He shook his head. "I'm fine. And no, not American. English."
"Not in the war?"
It took Nathan a moment to realise what she was asking and when he realised, he blushed and shook his head. "Not anymore."
She smiled easily enough and reached across to feel his forehead. "Your fever's gone. Apart from that cough, you're almost as good as new."
"So, soon I could-"
"Nurse Smith?"
This was another nurse, younger, possibly only seventeen or eighteen, Nathan thought. "There's a girl demanding we let her in," she said. "An English girl."
Nurse Smith looked sharply at Nathan for a moment, before she turned back to the other nurse. "Is she showing any signs of infection?"
"Not exactly," the younger nurse said, but she looked uncertain.
Nurse Smith sighed. "I'll come and look," she said. "We can't risk exposing him again - or her to these people, if she's not infected."
The two women left and Nathan sat up properly, wondering who it could be. He thought of Frankie, but then pushed that thought away. He hadn't really had time to panic about where he was in the last few days, but it was all coming back to him now - he was stuck nearly a century in the past and had no way of getting home, unless-
"Come on, Nathan," Nurse Smith said suddenly, appearing at his right elbow. "She said her name is Kristine. Your sister?"
Nathan nodded without really thinking. Kristine; he didn't know a Kristine, but maybe Frankie was using a false name-?
Disappointment made his stomach lurch when he walked out of the main hospital room and into the reception where the girl was waiting - she was dark-haired and clearly taller than Frankie, even he could tell that.
Then she turned and smiled and Nathan saw Frankie in every inch of her face. "Nathan!" she exclaimed loudly, hugging him without any preamble. "I've been looking for you everywhere! When I heard about the flu here, I feared the worst-"
He had to admit, this girl played the worried sister well; tears flooded her eyes now and he patted her on the head gently, shushing her. "I'm fine," he said. "I got better."
It seemed to be enough to placate Nurse Smith, who was smiling at him now. "Are you feeling up to going home, Nathan?" she asked.
Nathan nodded and she turned to consult a chart. Kristine took a step back - and Nathan saw now that there was something wrong with her; but he doubted it was the flu. Her arms were shaking.
"Your charts all look reasonably okay," the nurse said finally and then sighed again. "To be honest, they've wanted you booted for the last day or so; there's just not enough space here as it is... So you have to promise me, if you get any worse, you'll come straight back here, okay? And stay in the house for the next couple of weeks or so."
Nathan sucked in a breath. He knew this was wildly irresponsible of the nurse - this was a pandemic, after all - but he was better and, though she didn't know it, he had no intention of sticking around here.
"I'll make sure he does," Kristine said, grabbing Nathan's hand and squeezing it tight. "Thank you, so much."
The nurse nodded and smiled. "Don't worry about it."
There was a sound behind her and as she glanced over her shoulder, Kristine pulled sharply and dragged Nathan out of the hospital.
"Who are you?" Nathan asked once they were outside. There was a chill wind that he knew wasn't going to sit well with his chest, but the girl pulled out a watch as soon as they found an empty stretch of road.
"I'm Kris," she replied, not looking at him. "Frankie's my sister."
That certainly made more sense, Nathan thought, watching her fiddle with the dials.
"Do you know what you're doing with that thing?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "Well, sort of. We might end up a few... days off. I'm not very good at picking a specific time."
Nathan tried to ignore the panic bubbling up in his throat. This girl was Frankie's sister - and Frankie had saved him from that explosion, after all. It would have to work out.
Kris held out her hand. She had a no-nonsense look about her eyes that was the complete opposite of her sister and Nathan was a little slower to take her hand than he would have liked. Something about her was... off, that was for sure.
"Hold on tight," she said and pressed the dial down.
*
4.47 p.m.
3rd August 2011.
London, England.
She'd been focusing on the where rather than the when, so Kris was pleasantly surprised when they arrived back in the flat - and from the looks of the clock, not too long after they'd left.
Then the pain hit, as brutal and sharp as she'd been expecting and Kris doubled over, making sure her watch was tight in her hand even as she held onto her stomach.
"What is it?" Nathan was hovering, uncertain what to do with her - and she could still hear the scratch in his voice, the reminder that he'd just been through something he ought not to have.
"I'll... I'll be fine," she managed, easing her way over to the sofa and collapsing onto it, wincing when the pain began to thud behind her eyes. "I'm not... supposed to travel."
Nathan seemed to have realised about the headache and drew the curtains to, handing her a blanket that he found behind one of the armchairs. She put it over her eyes; it wasn't enough to stop the pain but the lack of light was somewhat soothing.
"This happens every time you travel?" he was asking now, his voice incredulous. "Why did you come, then?"
"Frankie... not here," Kris said on an exhale, gritting her teeth when her legs cramped, not daring to move them at all. "Can't reach her."
Nathan seemed to realise there wasn't much she could say so he asked one final question. "What can I do?"
"Nothing," she said. "Rest. You need... strength. Been ill." The cramp made itself known again and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Long minutes passed and so did the pain. "I'll be fine... soon. A few hours."
"Okay," Nathan said. She heard him settle into an armchair. "I'll stay here."
Kris didn't have a reply to that; she closed her eyes and hoped that sleep might claim her soon.
Story: Tempus Edax Rerum
Characters: Nathan, Kris
Flavours: Pumpkin Pie #7 [Special effects]; Chocolate Gelato #28 [Non sequitur]
Toppings: Gummy Bunnies - 500themes #191 [You're only sleeping]
Extras: N/A
Word count: 2,042
Rating: PG
Summary: "You're in the hospital," the woman replied. "Someone found you at the side of the road, brought you in - you have the flu, like so many others here."
Notes: So much for posting this on time. Sigh. It just wouldn't come out properly at first :/
1.45 p.m.
17th September 1918.
Boston, United States.
It hurt to move.
It was his muscles, Nathan thought - and not the usual pain that came from an over-enthusiastic gym session or football game the day before.
No, this was something else entirely.
He opened his eyes slowly, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to get used to the stark lighting overhead. A woman smiled down at him. Nathan tried to lift his head but couldn't. He exhaled a shaky breath.
"Where-" The word scratched uncomfortably in his throat and the woman turned away for just a second.
"Try drinking this," she said quietly.
She put an unreasonably strong arm around his shoulders and held him up, tipping the glass so that cool, sweet water dribbled between his lips. Nathan backed off a little when he'd drunk enough and the nurse put the glass back down, lowering him gently.
"Where am I?" Nathan croaked. He couldn't remember anything - well, nothing that would explain his being here, anyway. He had to be sick; that much was obvious - but how?
"You're in the hospital," the woman replied. "Someone found you by the side of the road, brought you in - you have the flu, like so many others here."
Nathan tried to think. The flu? But that wasn't that bad, not really- And what had he been doing by the side of the road in the first place?
The woman smiled encouragingly at him again, though Nathan could now see that it was a little tired around the edges, lines gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Rest," she said. "Try and sleep some more."
Nathan closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him once more.
*
3.26 a.m.
2nd August 2011.
London, England.
Kris woke with a start, her heart thumping against her ribs. It only took her a moment to assess the situation; there was no one in the flat, no external source that had dragged her out of sleep. No, it had been something else - something internal.
She reached over and flicked on the lamp, light flooding the room. Frankie was nowhere close; and Kris hadn't felt her sister travel since the end of that meeting with Dionne, when she'd come back to the flat in a fury and had packed a bag, leaving her behind again.
Kris shook her head. Frankie would be back soon and she knew it was better her sister had her own time and space to work out what she was going to do.
But this - this that had disturbed her; someone familiar, someone so familiar but the travelling had been ragged, that of someone not yet-
Nathan?!
Kris flung the covers back, leaping out of bed and crossing to her wardrobe. She grabbed some plain-looking clothes - she didn't plan on being in any one place for too long, just enough to grab Nathan and leave - and pulled them on, running her fingers through her hair to dislodge any knots.
Only after she'd tied her shoes did she realise what she was doing. She hadn't travelled in years - and had never, ever travelled alone; if she was off by only a little, if she got stuck there-
Kris took a breath and reached into the drawer by her bed, pulling out an old brass watch, the kind nurses wore on their uniforms - but ever so slightly bigger. Frankie wasn't here, so it was up to her. She could follow the trail where her sister couldn't, anyway. This might be the better plan.
She twisted the dials on the side of the watch, closed her eyes and-
Vanished.
*
6.54 a.m.
23rd September 1918.
Boston, United States.
Kris leaned heavily against a wall as she reappeared, feeling all of her energy drain away. The thumping had already begun behind her eyes; a symptom that would only get worse the longer she was here, she knew that.
She glanced at her watch and felt for Nathan's time stream. She'd say the nineteen twenties, if she had to guess, though she supposed she might be out by a couple of years either way.
Still, the ragged green was ever-present, stronger here than it had felt back at the flat. Kris pushed her watch into her pocket and stood straight, taking deep breaths to fight the waves of nausea as she did so. Okay. She could sense Nathan's time stream now, properly. She just had to follow it.
*
7.34 a.m.
23rd September 1918.
Boston, United States.
Nathan felt like he was the only one recovering. He'd been here for five days - that he could remember, but he thought it might be closer to a week, really - and had seen the amount of men who had died; men his age, apparently healthy before they'd arrived.
He knew what it was, once he'd worked out the year. 1918. Spanish Flu. He knew he was lucky to be alive; and that now, able to sit up and hold a normal conversation without feeling like the air itself was heavy, he was going to survive this.
He'd told the nurses his name in the end, but of course they couldn't find any of his records - not that they had time to search that hard, either. He was finding it hard to lie, but recognising it as a necessity.
"You weren't born here, though?" said one of the nurses, as she checked on him for the second time that morning. "You're not American."
"The accent, huh?" Nathan laughed, though that brought on another coughing fit and the nurse looked at him with concern. He shook his head. "I'm fine. And no, not American. English."
"Not in the war?"
It took Nathan a moment to realise what she was asking and when he realised, he blushed and shook his head. "Not anymore."
She smiled easily enough and reached across to feel his forehead. "Your fever's gone. Apart from that cough, you're almost as good as new."
"So, soon I could-"
"Nurse Smith?"
This was another nurse, younger, possibly only seventeen or eighteen, Nathan thought. "There's a girl demanding we let her in," she said. "An English girl."
Nurse Smith looked sharply at Nathan for a moment, before she turned back to the other nurse. "Is she showing any signs of infection?"
"Not exactly," the younger nurse said, but she looked uncertain.
Nurse Smith sighed. "I'll come and look," she said. "We can't risk exposing him again - or her to these people, if she's not infected."
The two women left and Nathan sat up properly, wondering who it could be. He thought of Frankie, but then pushed that thought away. He hadn't really had time to panic about where he was in the last few days, but it was all coming back to him now - he was stuck nearly a century in the past and had no way of getting home, unless-
"Come on, Nathan," Nurse Smith said suddenly, appearing at his right elbow. "She said her name is Kristine. Your sister?"
Nathan nodded without really thinking. Kristine; he didn't know a Kristine, but maybe Frankie was using a false name-?
Disappointment made his stomach lurch when he walked out of the main hospital room and into the reception where the girl was waiting - she was dark-haired and clearly taller than Frankie, even he could tell that.
Then she turned and smiled and Nathan saw Frankie in every inch of her face. "Nathan!" she exclaimed loudly, hugging him without any preamble. "I've been looking for you everywhere! When I heard about the flu here, I feared the worst-"
He had to admit, this girl played the worried sister well; tears flooded her eyes now and he patted her on the head gently, shushing her. "I'm fine," he said. "I got better."
It seemed to be enough to placate Nurse Smith, who was smiling at him now. "Are you feeling up to going home, Nathan?" she asked.
Nathan nodded and she turned to consult a chart. Kristine took a step back - and Nathan saw now that there was something wrong with her; but he doubted it was the flu. Her arms were shaking.
"Your charts all look reasonably okay," the nurse said finally and then sighed again. "To be honest, they've wanted you booted for the last day or so; there's just not enough space here as it is... So you have to promise me, if you get any worse, you'll come straight back here, okay? And stay in the house for the next couple of weeks or so."
Nathan sucked in a breath. He knew this was wildly irresponsible of the nurse - this was a pandemic, after all - but he was better and, though she didn't know it, he had no intention of sticking around here.
"I'll make sure he does," Kristine said, grabbing Nathan's hand and squeezing it tight. "Thank you, so much."
The nurse nodded and smiled. "Don't worry about it."
There was a sound behind her and as she glanced over her shoulder, Kristine pulled sharply and dragged Nathan out of the hospital.
"Who are you?" Nathan asked once they were outside. There was a chill wind that he knew wasn't going to sit well with his chest, but the girl pulled out a watch as soon as they found an empty stretch of road.
"I'm Kris," she replied, not looking at him. "Frankie's my sister."
That certainly made more sense, Nathan thought, watching her fiddle with the dials.
"Do you know what you're doing with that thing?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "Well, sort of. We might end up a few... days off. I'm not very good at picking a specific time."
Nathan tried to ignore the panic bubbling up in his throat. This girl was Frankie's sister - and Frankie had saved him from that explosion, after all. It would have to work out.
Kris held out her hand. She had a no-nonsense look about her eyes that was the complete opposite of her sister and Nathan was a little slower to take her hand than he would have liked. Something about her was... off, that was for sure.
"Hold on tight," she said and pressed the dial down.
*
4.47 p.m.
3rd August 2011.
London, England.
She'd been focusing on the where rather than the when, so Kris was pleasantly surprised when they arrived back in the flat - and from the looks of the clock, not too long after they'd left.
Then the pain hit, as brutal and sharp as she'd been expecting and Kris doubled over, making sure her watch was tight in her hand even as she held onto her stomach.
"What is it?" Nathan was hovering, uncertain what to do with her - and she could still hear the scratch in his voice, the reminder that he'd just been through something he ought not to have.
"I'll... I'll be fine," she managed, easing her way over to the sofa and collapsing onto it, wincing when the pain began to thud behind her eyes. "I'm not... supposed to travel."
Nathan seemed to have realised about the headache and drew the curtains to, handing her a blanket that he found behind one of the armchairs. She put it over her eyes; it wasn't enough to stop the pain but the lack of light was somewhat soothing.
"This happens every time you travel?" he was asking now, his voice incredulous. "Why did you come, then?"
"Frankie... not here," Kris said on an exhale, gritting her teeth when her legs cramped, not daring to move them at all. "Can't reach her."
Nathan seemed to realise there wasn't much she could say so he asked one final question. "What can I do?"
"Nothing," she said. "Rest. You need... strength. Been ill." The cramp made itself known again and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Long minutes passed and so did the pain. "I'll be fine... soon. A few hours."
"Okay," Nathan said. She heard him settle into an armchair. "I'll stay here."
Kris didn't have a reply to that; she closed her eyes and hoped that sleep might claim her soon.