Note: Elizabeth and Ross have no prior history nor will they have it. She is not a villain in this story.
Also, it has been quite a while since I wrote anything so I apologise if anything seems odd. I'm still struggling to find my way back to writing.
Anyhow, please leave any sort of feedback :D
Bad News
Ross stood next to the window, gazing down the street, watching people moving hurriedly across the street and cars whose drivers seemed to be in as much hurry as the pedestrians as they kept honking.
He was trying to stay calm, to process all the information he got over the last twenty-four hours without shouting or breaking anything.
As it turns out, the brown-haired woman that stayed by his side while he was in hospital, hooked on those darn machines and fighting for his life, was Elizabeth, and the man was Elizabeth's fiancé and Ross' cousin, Francis.
Both of them were beyond happy that Ross finally woke up, having spent ten days in coma. According to them, the doctors that attended him feared he mightn't wake up since he was pretty badly beaten up and had sustained a severe concussion.
His motor skills seemed fine, save that he had bruises and scratches all over his body as well as terrible headaches and couldn't sleep. The doctors assured him and his relative that he would recover soon, but Ross did not in the least feel convinced.
He was surrounded by strangers, at least that is what those people were to him now. Even if he knew them once, there wasn't a trace of a single memory of them which only frustrated him more.
Shaking his head to ward off further thinking that caused him headache, he went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face, his hands trembling as he did so. As he lifted his gaze towards the mirror, a stranger's face that looked back at him did nothing to ease the sense of restlessness in his stomach. What is more, it made him sick to look at himself in the state he was in now so he quickly exited the bathroom, rushing towards the cell phone Elizabeth had left him in case he needed them.
Opening the contacts list, he found her number and dialled, resolute to get out of the hospital. All those doctors and nurses and constant check-ups and the overall smell of death and illness that hung in the air suffocated him to the point he was ready to jump through the window just to get out of there.
Luckily, Elizabeth answered after a few rings and said she would come as soon as she was able to, seeming quite worried for Ross.
He couldn't blame her. He was worried about himself too. Ross didn't feel like Ross Poldark, as they said his name was. He didn't feel like anyone in particular. The fact that he was a stranger to himself scared him because, how could one forget oneself, one's entire life?
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Ross, darling. Please, sit down. Francis should be here shortly and then we can discuss further steps regarding your situation," Elizabeth pleaded as she pulled Ross onto the bed.
It'd been five minutes since she came and Ross hadn't sat since, pacing up and down the room and raking his hands through his untamed black curls. The look on his face clearly showed his discomfort and torment, mirroring the battle happening inside him.
"Elizabeth, I cannot stand this anymore. I've asked you times and times to tell me about my life, my...past. I sense both of you are hiding something from me and I just... I can't stand not knowing."
He lifted his gaze towards the woman in question, noticing his words had struck a chord with her. In a vain attempting to school her features, Elizabeth reached for him once more,
"Ross-"
At that moment, Francis knocked on the door, looking cautiously between Elizabeth and Ross as if assessing some potential threat. Surely, he felt the tension in the room, noticed Ross' distraught appearance and Elizabeth's desperation.
"Oh, thank goodness. Francis, Ross has been on tenterhooks and I couldn't dare to say anything without you," exclaimed Elizabeth, offering a gentle smile to her fiancé.
"Of course, dear. I'm glad you waited for me," Francis squeezed her shoulder lightly as he leaned down to kiss her forehead and sat on the chair next to Ross's bed. Turning towards him, he asked,
"My dear cousin, how are you feeling today?"
Ross scowled a little, standing up once again and walking to the window, gripping his head tightly, breathing in deeply to compose himself.
"I'm not quite sure how to answer you satisfactorily. I haven't slept, my entire body hurts and I can hardly stand upright but I can't lie for too long either. I feel trapped, and this place is suffocating me," he answered earnestly.
Ross turned and exhaled loudly as if trying to rid himself of some burden, then realising the silence in the room, observed his cousins, who were fidgeting nervously in their seats and exchanging odd looks.
"What is it? Please tell me. I'm already going mad as it is."
Francis cast a look at Elizabeth once more, and when she answered his unasked question with a light nod, spoke. "Ross, please sit down. What we have to tell you is of great importance. Unfortunately, it is no good news."
"What? Can there be anything worse than my losing my memory and almost ending up a cripple?"
Francis ignored his remark and waited for Ross to have a seat on the bed, all the while clenching his fists nervously and clearing his throat while Elizabeth took Ross' hand intertwining their fingers.
"Ross, I'm afraid... I'm afraid... Your father, Ross. He passed away."
The only answer Francis got was an empty gaze. Ross did not move nor did he make to speak. Elizabeth on the other hand, sniffed and wiped a stray tear off her flushed cheek. Ross remained silent though his breathing became ragged.
"How did it happen?" he finally asked after a few minutes, his voice unwavering, showing no emotion.
"Heart attack. When he got the news of your accident... they misinformed him. Told 'im you died. With his weak heart and that quarrel you had had before you left the house... I am terribly sorry, cousin. It is a most unfortunate event."
Lowering his head slightly, Ross took a few moments to try and recollect this man, his father. He searched and searched his memory but to no avail; his mind was a blank sheet, devoid of memories, his heart vacant of emotions towards the man save for common human compassion.
How was it possible he felt not an ounce of pain within his soul for a man who raised him and provided for him?
Ross felt anger bubbling up, simmering just under the surface of the emotional lid he struggled now to keep on, at least until Francis and Elizabeth left. Her hand was still holding his; he imagined she wanted to convey her sympathy and support. He could feel Francis' eyes on him, patient, warm.
"My mother?" he managed to croak out, surprising even himself.
It was Elizabeth who replied in her calm, soft voice. "Your mother passed away when you were but a child, may God rest her soul. It was just your father and you."
"Ross, please say something. I know we've thrown this at you but the doctors said we had to do it lest you find yourself wanting to go home and...well, wonder, you know. I'm terribly sorry. Elizabeth and I are, of course, here for you. Whatever you need, just let us know."
"Francis is right. We're here for you. We've talked and agreed it would be for the best you came to live at Trenwith, with us, so as to have someone caring for you."
Ross couldn't make himself respond anything but to faintly whisper, "May I, please, be left alone? I-I need a few moments for myself."
He let go of Elizabeth's hand and walked to the window again, focusing on the noise coming from the outside rather than on his racing heart and ever growing sense of despair and misery.
Francis and Elizabeth shared a look before getting up, Elizabeth hooking her arm under Francis as they left Ross' hospital room, but not before both of them cast a glance at him one more time. Ross paid them no attention, merely waiting to hear the familiar click.
When the doors closed, he rushed to the bed and lay in it, pulling the covers over his head. His whole body shook as the cries ripped from his throat; he was overcome with grief for a life he couldn't remember, a mother and a father he couldn't recall, and genuine sense of hollowness that filled his heart.
