Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
DARBY
“Here you are, sir.”
Darby set the mug of coffee on Dr. Fransten’s desk and stood with her hands clasped in front of her, waiting for him to give her the day’s schedule. Artificial energy buzzed through her limbs, keeping the exhaustion that pulled at her at bay.
The doctor answered without looking up from the patient charts in front of him. “Thank you, Shelton. Have a seat.” He picked up the mug and motioned with it to the chairs before taking a sip.
The silence stretched across the office for a few moments, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall. Finally, Dr. Fransten set the papers down and leaned back in his chair. “How is your patient progressing?”
It took her tired brain a few seconds to realize he was referring to Fitz.
Darby smiled. “His recovery is promising. He was able to sit up yesterday, and he has regained nearly full range of motion in both arms. Walking is the next step—if you’ll pardon the pun—and I have hope that with some recalibration of the artificial leg he will be fully mobile within a week or two. ”
She did her best to give her report in a clinical, professional manner, though it was hard to keep the excitement completely from her voice.
Thankfully, Dr. Fransten seemed to share her enthusiasm.
“Amazing,” he remarked softly, his eyes bright with interest. “I will admit, I was skeptical that you would be able to effectively connect his neural pathways between his brain and the metal mechanisms you designed, but it seems your experiments have been quite successful. You should be proud of your accomplishments, Shelton.”
She felt her cheeks warming at his praise. “I’m just thankful that I was able to save him.”
“When would you like me to present your findings to the Guild of Medicine?”
The question caught her off guard. She blinked. “Oh. I suppose I hadn’t thought of it as strictly necessary at the moment, given his recovery.”
He set his empty mug down on the desk. “Unless you plan to keep him locked away and out of sight, his appearance will hardly go unnoticed. And notice will bring questions, and questions will bring your name and reputation under scrutiny, unless we act preemptively.” Dr. Fransten steepled his fingers together.
“I am more than happy to take full responsibility for whatever repercussions there might be. A slap on the wrist from the Guild is worth it for the medical advancements this will make possible.”
Darby pressed her mouth into a thin line, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she considered. “I see what you mean. Perhaps in a week or two, when Fi—Captain Monstrego has had a chance to recover fully?”
Dr. Fransten nodded. “Very well. In the meantime, we have a full day ahead of us.” He handed her one of the patient charts. “I want you to take care of the tonsillectomy.”
Her jaw dropped. “On my own?”
“Unless you doubt your ability to handle it.”
“I can.” She took the chart from him, a feeling of elation bubbling up from her toes. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”
He waved her away with a smile. “As I have seen, Shelton. As I have seen.”
Her feet ached from standing all day and a heavy weariness had settled deep into her bones, but Darby couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she trudged down the steep, narrow stairs to her workshop.
I knew it would only be a matter of time before my hard work paid off! Maybe now Fransten will finally let me take on more cases by myself. After all, if I could put Fitz back together on my own, it’s not like he can say I’m not ready for far simpler procedures.
The thought of the captain caused her smile to widen, and she against the workshop door with her knuckle before opening it. “It’s a beautiful evening! I hope you’re ready for—Fitz!”
The captain was sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the side of the toppled-over armchair. The clothing rack was knocked to the ground as well, and her spare jackets and coveralls strewn across the floor. The expression on his face was stormy.
“What happened?” She crossed the room in just a few steps and knelt in front of him, pulling her stethoscope from her pocket in a fluid, practiced motion. Raven flew down and landed on her shoulder.
“What do you think you’re doing? It’s mine.”
Darby, satisfied after a few moments of listening that Fitz’s heart was still in working order, sat back on her heels and tried for a bit of humor to clear the dark clouds away from Fitz’s brow. “It seems like Raven has claimed you—probably due to the number of pretty, shiny screws you have.”
His jaw worked back and forth, and his scowl only darkened.
Darby bit back a sigh.
I thought we made progress yesterday, though I suppose it is rather unreasonable of me to expect that one conversation could magically fix things. Recovery takes time.
“What happened?”
“I tried to walk.”
“Without me?” She rose and gathered the garments from the floor, depositing them on the cot in an unceremonious heap.
“I am a grown man,” Fitz drawled sarcastically. “I was walking years before you were even born. I didn’t think I needed your permission.”
“No, but you might need my help.” Darby extended her hand. “I haven’t had a chance to double check the calibrations on your leg yet.”
He pushed her hand away and tried to stand himself, pulling his good leg underneath him and using the chair behind him to rise awkwardly to his feet. “Right, because now I’m some kind of creature you’re responsible for. I wouldn’t need your help walking if you had just left me alone.”
She pushed the sting of his refusal and cutting words away, hiding her emotions in straightening the clothing rack and the chair.
She nudged Raven from her shoulder, shrugged out of her jacket, and threw it over the rack.
“You would need even more help, because you would be dead. Rigor mortis is much harder to work with than tight screws.”
“Oh? Do you have a lot of experience?”
“I’m a doctor; I see death almost as much as I see life.
” She quickly located the turnscrew and other tools she needed to work on his leg and shoved them into the pocket of her skirt.
While it would be easier to work in her coveralls, leaving Fitz at the moment felt wrong.
“But since my training is to protect and prolong life as much as possible, I do my best to avoid it. I know this is a change for you, and it’s understandable that you’re upset, but you need to know that now that you are alive, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you that way.
” She met his eyes, unwilling to back down.
“And that includes making sure you don’t fall over when you walk.
You don’t have to like it—you don’t even have to like me—but you will have to deal with it. ”
He grunted, but said nothing.
Darby positioned herself in front of him, hovering her hands just above his forearms. “Can you try taking a step forward with your left leg?”
Fitz complied. The movement was stiff and unnatural, as if his leg were made of a stiff board. She dropped to a knee and made some adjustments to the screws in the knee joint before jumping up again. “Try it now?”
He shifted his weight and then suddenly fell forward.
She caught him, wrapping her arms around his middle, and holding him up as he regained his balance.
His right hand rested on her waist, and she almost imagined she could hear the thum-tick of his heart beating faster inside his chest. She waited until she was sure he was stable again, then backed up a step, an apologetic smile on her face. “That might have been too much.”
He swallowed, and his voice was tight and strained when he answered. “It’s alright.”
She knelt down and began fiddling with the screws again.
“Are you always this intense?”
Fitz’s gruff question caught her by surprise, and she looked up to find him watching her with a thoughtful frown. “What do you mean?”
“I thought doctors were supposed to have a pleasant bedside manner. You’re more like…a drill sergeant.”
A smile quirked at the corner of her lips. “You didn’t strike me as the type to want to be coddled.” She straightened and motioned for him to step again. They went through the dance several more times as they spoke, with her adjusting and checking and adjusting again.
“So this is all an act?”
The hint of a smile died away. “No. But I try to adjust my approach to whatever the patient needs. Some do need a little extra hand-holding and gentle encouragement.” She considered her words for a moment, then went for it. “You needed a kick in the pants.”
“Such a ladylike sentiment.”
The return of dry sarcasm in his voice had her spirits rising again.
Grumpy I can handle. It’s much better than the negative dismissal of the value of his own life he seems set on believing.
“My mother would be appalled. Well, more appalled than she already is, though I don’t know if that’s actually possible.”
“She didn’t want you to go into medicine?”
Darby swallowed past the painful lump that re-emerged whenever she thought of her parents.
“She didn’t want me doing anything that might interfere with marrying a rich young man and increasing their standing in society, and Father went along with whatever she said.
I think she only allowed me to enter the Academy because she was convinced I would give it up before the first term was over and come home with my tail between my legs. ”
Fitz let out a huff of amusement. “You don’t seem like the giving up type.”
She rose, satisfied with her work, and pocketed her tools again.
“I’m not. And once I knew for sure I was going to stay, I challenged myself to not only finish, but to finish so well that not even she could find any fault.
I graduated at the top of my class, and I’m the youngest registered Mavorian mage in recent history.
” She gently pulled Fitz forward, walking him with slow steps around the small room to help him grow accustomed to the movement.
“I’m sure she must be proud.”
Her humorless laugh echoed in the small room. “One might think. But in her eyes, I’ve not only humiliated her with my unladylike shape and build—I’m not very fashionable, in case you haven’t noticed—but I’ve brought shame and mortification by choosing to work for a living.”
But it doesn’t matter, she told herself for what must have been the millionth time. Because people like Merry and Fitz need me. If I had been content to just wither away on the sides of a ballroom, they might have fared much, much worse.
She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Not that I’m telling you all of this to make you feel sorry for me or to change your mind. I have Henry, and he’s proud enough of me for two parents.”
“Henry is your…?”
“Technically, he’s my landlord, but he practically adopted me after my second year at the Academy. I would spend nearly every night and weekend in the cafe studying; his coffee is the only reason I was able to graduate.”
“And your friends? Surely they are proud of your accomplishments.”
Darby looked up at him with raised eyebrows as she turned him around at the door to pace across the length of the room again.
“You’re certainly full of questions. Know your enemy, I suppose,” she added with a chuckle before continuing.
“But I don’t really have friends to speak of.
I was too intense and focused during my time at the Academy, and it tended to drive most people away. ”
They moved in silence for a few moments. Fitz’s gait was uneven, but he was growing steadier with every step. Darby squeezed the arm she held. “You’re doing wonderful, Fitz! Now it’s just the matter of the stairs, and we’ll have you ready for a moonlit stroll in no time.”
The captain visibly recoiled. “You want me to go outside?”
“Of course. You can’t stay in this room forever.”
Fitz shook his head vehemently. “I can’t go out there. They’ll see me as a monster.”
She let go of his arm in order to place herself squarely in front of him. She crossed her arms. “You’re not a monster.”
“You have to say that. You made me this way.”
“Fitzwilliam Monstrego.” She infused her voice with every bit of intimidation she could muster. “You are not a monster. You are a hero who has been given a second chance at life, and the sooner you get that through your thick skull, the better. It’s a pity I don’t have mind control magic.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” The bite of his words was softened by the tears she could see gathering at the corners of his eyes. “You’re not the one who will be making the old ladies whisper and the babies cry.”
“If they do, they’ll have to answer to me,” she responded stoutly, meaning every word. When he didn’t answer right away, she reached out and laid her hand gently on his arm. “I mean it, Fitz. But there’s no rush; we can take all the time you need.”
He stared down at her hand as if transfixed. He swallowed once, twice, before bringing his dark eyes up to meet hers straight on. He whispered, “You were wrong earlier.”
“Oh?”
“I wasn’t asking questions to know my enemy better. I was asking because when you’re going into battle, it’s important to understand the person fighting alongside you.”
Darby’s lips stretched into a soft smile. “I’m with you, Fitz. You’re stuck with me, no matter what battles lie ahead.”