Chapter 7: Quite Unforgivable
~Neverland: Day 5~
A week. One bloody week since he'd lost everything. Yes, time stood still in Neverland; yes, the days were blurred and seemed to take forever. But Hook knew exactly how many nights had passed without Milah by his side. He suspected he always would.
Managing a row boat was now a laborious and awkward process for Hook. One day he'd have to fashion a special oar he could control with his hook, but for the time being, he had to carefully kneel toward the bow and alternate strokes with the single oar in his hand, like some bloody gondola operator. Exhausted and sore as he was, it was not a comfortable or efficient way to travel. But he would not consider taking any of his crew to the island, not even to act as ferryman. This business was his alone.
The Jolly Roger rocked gently, silhouetted against the too-large moon that reflected too brightly on the waves. As he neared, Hook could hear the familiar ruckus of pirates enjoying the liquor stores a bit overenthusiastically. But, honestly, Hook couldn't care less. He ached all over, his left arm pulsed with pain; all he wanted was a wash and his bed. Perhaps some rum thrown in for good measure. So he skirted the ship and secured the row boat on the ocean side, hoping to avoid much notice. The sentry in the crow's nest would have spotted him, of course, and likely would have alerted Smee, but that could work to his advantage as the anxious man would scurry to do his bidding. And now that the first mate's arm and backside were on the mend, he would be much faster about it.
With a shiver, Hook rested against the gunwale of the row boat momentarily, trying to work up the energy to climb aboard. His head was throbbing and sending its ache down his neck, back, and chest. Suddenly, he could hear a conversation above him as several men chose to lean their backs against the railing. They didn't appear to know their captain lurked just below them.
"So what d'you suppose the captain gets up to when he meets with Pan?"
That was Turely. Hook scowled. Always a mouth on that one.
"Discussing business?" suggested another pirate. "Making trades? How else would he come back with all that fresh food and water?"
Smee's hysterical voice cut in. "I… I don't think we should be discussing the Captain's private affairs."
The others snickered at his poor choice of words. Turely turned his leer at the first mate. "So you think they're…" He thrust his hips forward in a rude gesture.
Smee managed to grow even more panicked. "Please! Turely! He could be back any time now!"
Turely only scoffed at that. "I'm just saying… you know he's not getting it from Milah anymore."
His vicious laughter was cut short by a shriek of pain as a hook buried itself in his shoulder. He tried to flinch away from the attack, but only succeeded in slightly changing the angle at which Hook's cutlass ran him through.
Hook didn't even bother retrieving his weapon from the body as it collapsed to the deck. Quivering with rage, he vaulted the railing and seethed,
"Any other jesters aboard?!"
The men were deathly silent. No one would meet his furious gaze.
"Thirty lashes for the useless fool asleep in the crow's nest. And no rations for the rest of you lot for a full forty-eight hours. You can bloody well starve for all I care."
He took a step in the direction of his cabin only to have Smee stumble in front of him. Hands raised, the man stammered,
"C-c-cap…"
Hook lacked the patience for excuses. With a burst of strength at odds with how sick he felt, Hook hauled Smee up over the railing and into the sea. As he stormed below, he was vaguely aware of the efforts to rescue the hapless first mate, but he found he wasn't the slightest bit interested in the outcome.
Bed. Definitely bed. The bath could wait.
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Killian began to stir when a nurse wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm. He opened his eyes and groaned.
"What the bloody hell am I doing here?" was his predictable response, but his voice lacked its usual fire.
He was lying on his side on a bed, a curtain draped around it for privacy. Beside him, Emma had one hand on his brace while she stroked his hair with the other. "You passed out. And I'm assuming you still don't want me to heal you, so what else was I supposed to do?"
Killian clenched his jaw and winced at a stab of agony from his back.
"And you have a fever; I think your back is infected."
He knew from long experience that she was right. But magic pain-killing drugs were not in his plan for recuperation.
From behind him, the nurse spoke up. "I'm going to take a drop of your blood to check your glucose and hemoglobin levels."
As the nurse poked Killian's finger, Emma muttered,
"Somehow I doubt the problem is his blood sugar."
Killian closed his eyes momentarily. He just wanted to be back in his bed at home. "Look, Swan, I…"
"I know. You don't want to be here; you don't want treatment. But I'm not gonna let you kill yourself for your messed-up ideas of penance."
"How do you feel now, Killian?" asked the nurse from beside Emma.
He decided not to take his frustration out on the lady for doing her job. He put on a weak smile and replied,
"Not at my best, but I can assure you that I don't need to be here."
She smiled back. "You know, a lot of people say that. But it's always better to get checked out anyway. We'll do our best to get you back on your feet."
With that, Dr. Whale bustled through the curtain. His smile was pretty obviously fake, as well. "Good morning."
Killian groaned again.
"Always a pleasure to see you too, Hook." He took a look at the vital signs the nurse had recorded. "What seems to be the problem today?"
When it became apparent that Killian would not be a willing participant in the conversation, Emma took charge.
"He got injured a couple of days ago, and I think he might be getting an infection."
Whale seemed on the verge of rolling his eyes. "Injured, huh? And let me guess: he didn't seek medical attention?"
"Won't let me heal him, either."
The doctor couldn't have looked less surprised.
"Want me to order a psych consult?" he quipped under his breath to Emma.
"Look, mate," Killian broke in. "I don't want to waste your time; I'm sure you've others to see. I feel better now."
He tried to raise himself on his elbow but hissed a breath when the pain in his back and his raging headache prevented him.
"I can see that. Where were you injured?"
Killian went silent again.
"His back," Emma supplied.
"May I take a look?"
Killian didn't say no, exactly, so Emma used magic to remove his pajama top and bandages. There was a pause as Whale took in the sight.
"Well… I'd confidently go with the infected theory."
Emma could tell by the look on his face that he was startled by the severity of the injuries.
"You should have definitely come in earlier. You're developing an infection that could have been prevented if we had cleaned those up right and started antibiotics."
With closed eyes, Killian replied,
"You're not telling me anything I don't already know."
Whale sighed. "Well, let's get you admitted. I'd like to start some IV fluids and antibiotics. And we may have to surgically debride those lacerations. We can stitch them up nicer for you too."
"No," Killian gritted out.
There was a beat.
"No to what?" Whale asked patiently.
"All of it," Killian replied painfully. Then he looked at Emma. "Take us home, love. Please?"
Emma scowled at him. "You won't let me use my magic to fix you, so I'll be damned if I use it to take you away from the only other people who can help."
"You need treatment," Whale insisted. "Wounds as extensive as this, especially if they become infected, can easily become life-threatening."
Killian only shifted on the bed with a grimace. Dr. Whale met Emma's gaze.
"What is this really all about?"
"He's convinced that he deserves it. Won't let anyone help him because he's a stubborn ass."
Temper rising, Killian opened his eyes to look belligerently at the doctor. "Look, mate, I know how it works here; you can't do anything to me without my consent."
There was another tense silence, with Whale looking helplessly at Emma. Finally she turned all her attention on her husband.
"Killian, please. Do it for me."
Killian sighed and considered her plea. Then he carefully answered,
"I will submit to your antibiotic drugs. But I'll not have any further treatment."
Whale made a wry face. "Why is it that whenever you come here you always leave AMA?" He sighed. "I'll meet you halfway. Until we figure out what's causing the infection, we need to get you on strong, broad-spectrum antibiotics, and the best way to do that is intravenously. But you can do that as an outpatient, coming in for a dose every twelve hours. And that way we can also monitor the progress of the infection. Do we have a deal?"
Killian nodded. "Aye."
Within short order, he was gritting his teeth, determined to show no hint of a reaction as Whale scraped something into several places where the pain was the worst. Emma wasn't questioning it, so there must have been some diagnostic value. Killian couldn't begin to guess. Eventually, the physician stepped back, saying,
"All right. Well, I'll put your orders in, and someone will be down shortly to take you up to Ambulatory Infusion."
He moved toward the curtain, and Emma said,
"Thanks, Dr. Whale."
With a sigh, Killian added, "Look. I know you're looking out for my best interests, and I do appreciate that."
Whale turned and raised an eyebrow. "Woah. You really are sick if you're thanking me!" Then he brushed aside the curtain and slipped out.
Emma bent down and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, Killian."
He replied with a penitent smile. "You don't need to stay with me, love. You should head to work."
She looked hesitant. "Are you sure?"
"Aye. I'll be fine. I will send a texting message to your phone when I'm ready for you to take me home."
Still torn, but finally deciding to trust him to stick to the agreement, she nodded. "Okay. Good luck." She kissed him again. "You know I still love you, even when I'm frustrated. Right?"
Killian smiled. "And I you."
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A short while later, an orderly came and assisted him into one of those wheeled chairs which the hospital staff used to transport patients. Before leaving, Emma had used her magic to reattach his bandages exactly the way they had been, with his pajama shirt on top. But he still couldn't put any sort of pressure against the wounds, so he essentially had to sit in the middle of the chair, back straight, and grip the chair arm tightly to keep himself from leaning back. Thankfully, the trip didn't last long. He was wheeled into a room with a row of recliner chairs, none of which were occupied at present. No beds, he noted.
A woman came to greet them. She had long, very light blonde hair, similar to the Snow Queen's; almost white. An unusual star-shaped birthmark decorated the center of her forehead. She smiled warmly.
"Hello, I'm Thea. You're Killian?"
"Aye." He stiffly shook her hand.
The orderly helped Killian up and onto one of the recliner chairs, on which he had to lie awkwardly sideways. As the chair couldn't go all the way flat, there was a certain amount of pull on the skin of his lower back, especially the left side. Killian cursed inwardly and wondered if Whale knew of the set-up in here and was trying to get him to change his mind about being admitted. But that was ridiculous. Whale was a professional.
Thea hung a couple of bags of fluid from the pole beside his chair. Then she turned to study Killian.
"Are you all right there?"
"A flat surface would be preferable," he admitted.
"I'm sorry. I can see if we can find a cot to bring in here."
"I'll survive, as long as this doesn't take too long. But perhaps for the next time."
She nodded. "Once we get set up, this first infusion will take about an hour, because Dr. Whale ordered some fluids along with your antibiotic. Later doses will just be the antibiotic, so they'll be closer to twenty minutes."
"No pain killers, correct?"
She checked his orders again. "No."
"Good."
Thea set the folder down. "Do you have any allergies?"
"Not that I am aware of."
"Okay. May I take a look at your arms?"
She took hold of his right arm, rotating it to visualize the inside and then the back of his hand. "We can leave the catheter in place for a few days so we don't have to poke you every time you come in. But I'm thinking we may have to be limited to your right arm, unless you'd be able to go without this for awhile." She indicated his brace.
"I would prefer not to."
"That's all right. You'll just need to be extra careful to keep the site dry, and not to dislodge it accidentally."
"I think I can manage that."
Thea retrieved some pillows from a cupboard and arranged them in front of him so he could comfortably rest his right arm on top. Then she wrapped a tourniquet around his upper arm and instructed him to make a fist. After a few moments of prodding at different veins, she selected a site on the side of his wrist, in line with his thumb and a few centimeters below the tattooed dagger's tip. She removed the tourniquet, thoroughly cleaned the skin in the area, and then repositioned the tourniquet below his elbow.
"Just a little poke, now," she warned. Killian watched as she smoothly pierced his skin, advanced the needle into the vein, and then pushed the plastic catheter in place. She held it steady with a finger as she removed the needle and then quickly attached a short length of plastic tubing, which she used to fill a couple of test tubes with his blood. Then, with her finger still over the catheter, she removed the tourniquet and replaced the tubing with a different line, which was already filled with saline and had a green plug at the other end. This she looped couple of times before securing the whole set-up against his skin with a see-through square of adhesive plastic, leaving the plugged end accessible.
"A few things to watch out for," she began as she worked on attaching the IV bags to the catheter. "Pain, redness, swelling, or a rash around the catheter site. Also any pain or stiffness in your shoulder. And, obviously, if it comes out, you'll want to put pressure on the area." She pushed a few buttons on a device through which the tubing ran. "Side effects of the antibiotic can include stomach upset, diarrhea, or yeast infections. And some people can have severe allergic reactions, so I'll be monitoring you closely for this first treatment."
She cleared away the supplies and stepped back. "Any questions?"
"How many days must I take these drugs?"
"It depends on the results of the cultures and how the infection responds. Once we know the organism and its sensitivities, we may be able to switch you to an oral antibiotic that's more targeted."
He nodded, and, seeing that he had no further questions, Thea moved away to do some other work. Leaving him to doze…
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AN: I know there's no canon reason for animosity between Killian and Whale, but I've read several fics where there is, and I love it every time :) Also, my limited medical knowledge comes mostly from working as a vet assistant ten years ago (and a little bit of Dr. Google!) So don't hold it against me if it's wrong. Coming up: Pan vs. Hook!