Author's Note: I apologize for the tardy update. I've been swamped with schoolwork, but I promise that I'm still doing my best to write as often as possible. Please enjoy the chapter and kindly leave a review, it really makes a huge difference and gets me to drag myself to the keyboard when I'd sometimes rather nap. x)
"Well, look who it is!"
Dimples highlighting her toothy smile, Zoey timidly approached Alfred's bedside the following day, hands laden with a card made of construction paper and a number of 'get-well' balloons. "Are you better now?"
"Almost," Alfred replied with his own grin, much less weary than he'd been previously. He no longer felt comatose, and had regained some of the strength in his limbs. Carefully, he reached over to accept Zoey's presents. "Thanks for the super awesome stuff! I think it's safe for me to give you that hug you've been waiting for, so come over here and let me hold my Zoey-bug again."
Rubbing her shoes against the floor in uncertainty, the girl risked a few steps forward, allowing herself to be encased in Alfred's warm arms. She breathed in his scent, realizing how much she had missed his presence over the course of his quarantine. "Don't ever get sick again, okay?"
Chuckling, Alfred scooped the child up and onto the bed with him, resting her on his lap snugly. "I don't know if I can promise that. Hey, where's that weirdo uncle of ours?"
"He's talking to someone."
"What kind of someone?"
"I don't know," she admitted, chewing on the nail of her thumb. "Somebody important."
Furrowing, Alfred decided to let the subject slide for the moment. "Right… Did everything go okay last night?"
"Yeah. I hurt my hand, but Uncle Arthur fixed it. He's still sorta scary though."
Finally taking note of the dressing on the child's palm, Alfred took the injured hand in his own and held it close to his heart. "Well, I see he did a good job taking care of it. You've always been a little clumsy."
"Have not!"
"Yes, you have!" Alfred teased brightly, loving whenever he had the opportunity to get under the girl's skin. She was quite cute when frustrated, and it reminded him of the many times that he had mocked and antagonized Matthew. "I think I'll be getting out of here today. Are you happy about that?"
Smirking with a blush, Zoey considered the question. "I guess… I was having fun without you."
"Traitor!" Alfred exclaimed with a gasp, jabbing a finger at Zoey's chest. "You're going to be in big trouble for saying that!"
"No! You can't scare me!"
"Ahh, but I know your weakness," the man reminded, bringing his hands to either side of Zoey's waist before tickling her relentlessly. "Surrender now!"
"NEVER!" Zoey shrieked through a squeal of joy, slapping at Alfred's hands. A few blonde curls obscured her vision throughout the skirmish. "Let me go!"
"Hmm… I'm feeling sympathetic today, so I'll let you go with a warning," Alfred conceded, dropping his arms back onto the bed just as the privacy curtain was abruptly pulled open for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Another trespasser?"
Giving a brief nod of acknowledgment, Arthur entered the room and dropped a stack of papers on a nearby counter. "Good afternoon, Mr. 'Jones'—as you now call yourself. I'm sorry to announce that you'll be parting ways with the splendid faculty of this facility today."
"Aww, but I was just getting to know my fellow inmates," Alfred muttered with an exhausted laugh. "The drunkard being treated for alcohol poisoning down the hall was shouting all night long."
Green eyes shimmering with dry humor, Arthur pursed his lips and ambled to the bedside, gently peeling off the medical tape surrounding the IV line that rested in the crook of Alfred's arm. "Yes, our ER is world-renown for our state-of-the-art beds and ambient environment," he flaunted with a lack of expression. "Hold still."
Alfred watched with scrutiny as the needle was removed, leaving only a miniscule mark in its wake. A bandage soon was placed over the area, and he ran a hand through his hair when his arm was set free. "I probably stink, huh?"
"Yeah, you need a bath!" Zoey affirmed, curling up her nose at the man.
"It's not too apparent," Arthur half-heartedly consoled with another mocking smile. He fished a pen out of his pocket and passed Alfred the pile of documents. "Signature, please."
Scribbling his name in squiggly cursive, Alfred skimmed through the remaining papers. "Thanks for getting copies of my bloodwork and everything else. It's good to have a personal record so that I can keep track of all the things wrong with me."
"Well, as we all know, those in their twenties are notorious for thinking they're invincible. It's rather satisfying to prove to them that they actually are capable of contracting illnesses."
Scoffing, Alfred slowly sat up and ushered Zoey to stand. "Live fast and die young, right? There's nothing wrong with wanting to follow that philosophy. I don't want to rot away in a nursing home for fifteen years before I die."
"I'd rather pass away of old age and experience the full length of my life rather than sacrifice it for the thrill of a moment," Arthur countered, offering Alfred a hand to help him up.
The younger man grimaced softly as he tested his legs, finding them to be relatively strong albeit wobbly from lack of recent use. "In that case, Zoey and I will find you a nice nursing home out in Florida or something, so you can be close to the beach, old man. Actually, you don't seem that old. I don't think you ever mentioned your age."
"I can assure you that I'm far from retirement age," Arthur revealed with a huff, passing his nephew a change of clothes. "Come along, Zoey. We'll let him change in peace. Do let us know if you need any assistance. I really don't want to have to call the nurse if you collapse."
"I'll be fine!"
"I find that hard to believe!"
Stepping around the privacy curtain with Zoey and bringing it to a close, the pair waited a painstakingly long amount of time for Alfred to make himself presentable.
"Are you sure you're all right in there?"
"Yes, mother-hen," Alfred griped, finally revealing himself as he exited the room that he had been bedridden in overnight. "Seriously though, my father's fifty-three, so you've gotta be around that age too. You're the youngest of the group, right?"
Arthur momentarily ignored the questions, depositing the signed documents at the nurses' station before leading the way down the corridor. "Unfortunately. I endured many years of abuse because of it."
"So, let me take a guess. Are you fifty?"
"No."
"Fifty-one?"
"No."
"At least tell me if I'm getting warmer?"
They made their way out to the parking lot, whereupon an explosion of sunlight bombarded Alfred's eyes and left him disoriented for a few seconds. Unable to see where he was going, he promptly tripped over his own feet, catching himself by latching onto Arthur's shoulder. "That was close."
"I'm surprised you've managed not to fracture any bones by this point," Arthur grumbled with a mildly alarmed expression. "Watch where you're going and stop with your pestilence of questions. I'm forty-five."
Righting himself and taking in the new information, Alfred raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "That's a pretty big age gap."
"Yes, now you see why I was such a target for my brothers," Arthur remarked as they reached the car. "We'll be picking up as many of your belongings as possible from that terrible apartment. We'll make a second trip when you've fully recovered, if necessary."
Staggering into the passenger's seat, Alfred drew his aching skull back and onto the headrest, letting out a wide yawn in the process. "All right… Thanks again, Arthur. I really do appreciate all you've done for me."
"You're welcome..."
Zoey slid into the back, sprawling across the width of the car. There was a moment of hushed movement as they all put on their seatbelts and got settled, and Arthur paused as he turned the ignition key.
"Alfred?"
"Yup?"
"Not everyone in the world is awful… If there's one thing I've learned as a doctor, it's that while everyone is entitled to treatment, there are those who deserve it as well… And when you treat a person that deserves to be treated, you cure them every time, even if their illness is terminal. Not in a physical sense, perhaps, but certainly on an emotional level."
Fiddling with cuff of his shirt, Alfred hung his head sullenly. "Why are you telling me this?"
Arthur took in a large breath and let his eyes wander toward the multitude of skyscrapers surrounding them. Just a sliver of the sky could be seen between their massive girths. Then, he set the car in motion, noting vaguely how Zoey already seemed to be lost in her own thoughts from the rearview mirror.
"You can't fool me with your false joy. I—I used to be a very miserable person, Alfred. In some ways, I still am. However, it's all written right there in your eyes. As much as you'll probably deny it, you have a deep mistrust and dislike for people. Of course, I don't blame you for it, since you've been conditioned to feel such a way, especially after all of the loss you have experienced."
Swiveling around to look at Arthur, the younger man found his heartbeat quickening, filling him with some sort of relentless anxiety.
"I'm sorry for what people have done to you, Alfred."
Those words… For years he'd been yearning for some sort of justice and compensation—an apology from society at large for his misfortunes, and to hear it from Arthur—of all people—made him inexplicably grief-stricken. "You don't have to—"
Arthur shook his head, leading them through the maze of the city. "Yes, I do. When terrible tragedies happen, someone has to have the courage to speak out about them on behalf of everyone. And I want you to know that I'm sorry. Truly sorry. Please, don't think badly of the world because of what has been done to you. They were a few bad seeds, Alfred. I have met so many wonderful people through my work, and I assure you that not all of humanity is bitter."
And again, he wasn't sure exactly what triggered the wetness in his eyes, but it was there, and he hated it. "If it wasn't for them, he'd still be alive. He wouldn't have gone into that burning tower to save complete strangers. He'd be with his daughter. Why did he take the call?"
"For the same reason you're a nurse. I've seen the way you act around children—I know you have hope for each of them."
Alfred frowned, rubbing at his face uneasily. "If you like humanity so much why do you call yourself miserable?"
"I did some reckless things in my youth, which I now regret. My life would've been much different if I'd been a little more optimistic at times," Arthur recalled almost wistfully as they reached the highway.
Rolling down the window, Alfred tiredly turned his head to stare outside, enjoying the feeling of the rushing breeze running across his skin and ruffling his hair. "I've thought about doing some reckless things before, but I've got responsibilities…" he whispered into the wind. "Like I said, dying young wouldn't be so bad."
"That's not true," Arthur hastily reprimanded, eyes focused on the road despite his growing frustration. "It's selfish to think that."
"I want to be selfish for once."
Reaching an arm across the seat, Arthur plastered a hand to Alfred's forehead. "You're delirious again, aren't you? You still have a bit of a fever… Things will change and you'll come to appreciate the little quirks of life that are still worth living for."
"Such as?"
"I'd say our encounter is rather notable. It's something that's turned out to be positive, I'd like to think. You don't have to return to your ruddy apartment anymore. Simply changing your surroundings might brighten your spirits. It certainly seemed to work for Zoey last night."
Hearing her name, the girl immediately directed her attention toward the men. "Why are you talking about me?"
"It's nothing, munchkin," Alfred reassured, peeking behind his seat to catch a glimpse of the child. "You've got nothing to worry about."
Nothing at all.
He hated to have to be the one to admit that his uncle had been right again, but there was no way around the fact. The moment he had stepped through the door of the house, he understood Zoey's fascination with the atmosphere. It was secluded yet homely. The simple pine-wood flooring and cream colored walls seemed to be glowing, filling the rooms with a radiance that was so unlike their chipped and rusty apartment.
Within the following hour, he had made himself comfortable in the room across from where Zoey had claimed her territory, equipped with a novel and a cup of hot tea. Though not much of a tea-fanatic, he enjoyed the warmth of the beverage traveling down his throat and leaving him feeling less chilled to the core. By the time he'd made it through the entire cup, his eyes decided they could use a lengthy rest, leaving him slumped against the industrial complex of pillows that he'd created for himself.
As expected, his dreams were panicked and nonsensical. He had broken out into a full sprint, chest heaving as he was seemingly running away from something. When he had reached a dead end, he dove from a cliff that had materialized at the edge of the world.
He soared through a mist of starry lights and bright flashes, coming to an abrupt halt in midair.
"Why are you running away from me?"
Recognizing the voice, his breath caught in his throat as he forced himself to swivel around. "H-How?"
Those eyes paired with hair that wasn't nearly as unruly as his own greeted him patiently. A compassionate hand reached out toward him, and he quickly moved to accept it.
"Matthew?"
The hand had disappeared, and he stared down at the spot where its form had once been.
"Why are you running away from me?"
He blinked and lifted his gaze again, mouth gaping as Zoey suddenly replaced where Matthew had previously been standing. She wore a meek expression, head tilted slightly to one side as she raised an eyebrow at him.
"Are you scared?"
"Zoey—"
"Do you love me?"
Stepping forward with outstretched arms, he nodded furiously. "Of course."
"Then let that be enough. Why can't you let that be enough?"
"Shhh… You're all right."
Gasping for breath, Alfred jolted forward in a chilled panic, shivering violently as he squinted at the dimly lit bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand had been turned on, illuminating the room somewhat and keeping the creeping shroud of darkness at bay.
Swallowing roughly with a grimace, he gently laid himself back down on the damp bedspread. "What time is it?"
"Nine in the evening. You've been immobile for most of the day," Arthur murmured with a frown. "On the bright side, your fever is breaking—once and for all, I should hope." He rummaged around through some items on the nightstand, revealing a glass of water just a moment later. "Best to stay hydrated."
Nodding and accepting the offering, Alfred greedily downed the water, parched and uncomfortably warm everywhere. "Thanks. I'm sorry for being such a burden."
"If I didn't want to help, I wouldn't have let you stay here… I imagine that was quite the nightmare you had."
Reaching a hand behind his head to rub his neck, Alfred merely shrugged his shoulders. "It happens a lot, unfortunately."
Humming to himself in thought, Arthur leaned against the windowsill beside the bed. "Have you talked to anyone about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Some grief counseling or a support group wouldn't hurt. It's not healthy to deny yourself the time to cope," Arthur reasoned, creaking the window open slightly to allow a fresh breeze into the room. The smell of the wet pavement from an evening drizzle awakened the sick man's senses immediately, rousing him out of his sloth-like movements.
Sniffling away the congestion in his sinuses, Alfred sighed. "It's been eight years. I'm fine."
"I beg to differ."
"Time heals all wounds, right? Look, I've got it under control, okay?"
The elder man clicked his tongue disapprovingly but made no further comments, deciding that it really wasn't his place to pry in such personal matters. "Fine then, do as you wish."
There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence afterward, at which point Alfred tried to search for a reason to leave the prison of the bed. "Hey, I think I'm finally gonna go and take that shower because I reek. Is that all right with you?"
"Are you feeling strong enough?"
It was now a matter of pride, and thus, Alfred immediately dipped his head in affirmation. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he carefully stood on his wobbly limbs. His body had rebelled against him, and it was harder than he'd expected it to be to make the trip to the doorway.
Panting by the time he'd crossed the length of the room, he let out a tired chuckle. "I feel like an old lady. You wouldn't happen to have a walker on you, would you?" he joked, stumbling into the hallway.
"Here, let me give you a hand."
"No, I'm good, thanks!"
"Can't you cease being an idiot for just a moment?"
"I'm not an—! Oww! Leg cramp!"
"Serves you right!"
"Umm, what are you guys doing?"
Turning around in unison, both men stopped in their tracks as the little bewildered voice rang at them from the top of the stairs. Zoey pressed her eyebrows together in confusion, watching in mild amusement as Alfred struggled to release himself from the vice-grip Arthur had around his waist.
Clearing his throat in an authoritative manner, Alfred fixed his slouching posture and stood up straight, flopping around momentarily in a last ditch attempt to free himself. "Oh, we were just having a chat…"
"You're both freaking me out," the child accused, chewing on her upper lip. "I think I'll get ready for bed now…"
"That's a good idea," Alfred seconded.
When the girl was out of sight once more, Alfred glared menacingly at his uncle. "Don't traumatize my niece."
"Oh, I'm the one traumatizing her now? You can't reverse the damage that's been done to her after all of the years you've spent with her."
Crossing his arms, Alfred took a few steady steps forward. "Hey, I've been a pretty cool caretaker so far."
"Yes, and the lack of discipline you've instilled upon the girl explains why she thinks you are beneath her," Arthur huffed, giving his nephew a critical look.
"She doesn't think that."
"Admit it, you're a pushover, lad."
Affronted, Alfred stormed into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, keeping Arthur out and far away. "Am not!"
Scoffing in the corridor, Arthur continued to make his argument known. "She treats you like a friend, and not like a father figure."
"And what's so bad with that?"
"Nothing, but she should know that you deserve a bit more respect as her legal guardian," Arthur countered, listening as Alfred grumbled something furiously under his breath and turned on a stream of steaming water.
"Daft numpty," Arthur jeered, going about his way. He scowled one last time at the door, lips pursed firmly. "You'll see, in due time."
The weekend was far too short, in everyone's opinion, but Monday morning did not seem to mind the numerous complaints, greeting its adversaries with another workweek. From a distance, everything appeared to be ordinary and routine, but Zoey knew better than to fall for such a trick.
Though the sunlight filtering through the blinds was the same as always, the blinds themselves were very different. She awoke to a new bed, new atmosphere, and new outlook on the day. There seemed to be a certain kind of excitement and simmering enthusiasm in the air, and she actually found herself shedding a smile upon leaving the warmth of the bed to tackle an unspoiled day.
"Take the day off," she heard as she entered the kitchen, unsurprised to find her two uncles bickering already. She was growing used to their constant arguments, and accepted them as a sign that all was relatively well and in order.
Alfred was chugging a cup of coffee, dressed in his blue scrubs and white Nike's. "You really have to prescribe yourself some anti-anxiety meds. I'm perfectly fine. I'm not contagious anymore, and a leftover case of sniffles isn't going to keep me from doing my job."
"I'd hardly consider the H1N1 virus a case of the 'sniffles'."
Taking another long sip of coffee, Alfred finally noted Zoey's presence and smiled with his eyes. "Good morning, cutie pie. Ready for another awesome day of third-grade?"
She breathed in the scent of cinnamon waffles topped with bananas—Alfred's specialty. He must've volunteered to make breakfast. "Nope."
"Aww, well… Got any tests today?"
"Mm-hmm," she replied, hopping into a chair and taking a plate of waffles. "It'll be easy though."
Smirking, Alfred stroked the girl's hair gently. "Oh, yeah? I expect you to bring home a hundred, then, or you'll be in big trouble. Pinkie-promise?"
"Yeah," Zoey agreed, locking pinkies with the man. "You're coming to the talent show next week, right? My class is performing."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Smiling contentedly, she ventured a glance at Arthur, shrinking under his gaze involuntarily before turning her attention back to Alfred. "Will Uncle Arthur come too?"
"If you want… You'll have to invite him, though," Alfred suggested, smiling expectantly at the other man. "He's a busy man, you know. He'll need to pencil you in on his schedule."
Nibbling the inside of her cheek, Zoey swallowed the last piece of her breakfast nervously. She was hoping she wouldn't have to invite the other, seeing as his presence was unnerving, but it would be rude for her to back out now. "Uncle Arthur? Could you please come to my school's talent show next Wednesday?"
The man's eyes brightened substantially, and Zoey wondered why the man didn't smile more often, seeing as he was much less scary when he did so. "It'd be my pleasure."
Slumping slightly in her seat in a mixture of fear and disappointment, Zoey said the words that Alfred expected her to say. "Thank you… Can we leave now? I don't want to be late."
Laughing with a look of reassurance, Alfred nodded and helped to clear the table with Arthur. "Go brush your teeth and get your things. We'll leave in five minutes."
And five minutes came as promptly as ever because she was soon buckled into the backseat of the SUV, head lolling to one side and resting on her shoulder as she watched the other men, women, and children bustling about to bring about the start of the day. It was a collective action, she realized—to be making one's way to work and school, and it was nice to know that she wasn't the only one forced to choose education over sleep.
The morning rush-hour wasn't too much of a headache, and they arrived at her school relatively early. While Arthur waited in the car, Alfred abandoned his seat to escort her down the sidewalk and through the entrance gates leading to the building, as was their usual morning ritual.
"Have a good day, Zoey."
"You too, Alfred."
The man crouched before her for a minute, staring past her figure and over at the other children that were assembling with their various classes. A number of parents scurried around them as well, planting kisses on foreheads and zipping up backpacks before bidding their younglings farewell.
Sighing softly, Alfred drew Zoey into a strong hug, resting a hand on her head. "I love you."
"Love you too…"
"Are you sure?"
"Uh-huh."
"Really sure?"
"Yes!" Zoey promised with a giggle, squeezing Alfred tightly in return. "Will you come and pick me up?"
"Yeah, but I'm afraid you're going to have to stay at the afterschool program for a while because I don't get out of work until five. Arthur and I will come and get you, okay?"
"But I don't like going to afterschool."
"I know, Zoeybug, but we don't have a choice. Now that we're staying with Arthur, you can't just take the bus from here," Alfred explained calmly, running a hand over the child's back. "It'll just be for two hours. You can finish up your homework there and play with your friends. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
Frowning, Zoey scuffed her shoes on the cement. "I don't know… Most of the people that stay for afterschool don't know me."
"Well, then you'll make new friends! Everyone will like you!"
It was easier said than done—trying to get out of one's shell. Zoey wasn't the most sociable of children, and usually only spoke when she participated in class of felt the need to share her opinion on a topic that interested her. Otherwise, she kept mostly to herself. Naturally, when Alfred asked if she had many friends, she'd make up stories to appease him.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
"Chin up, sweetie. If you keep frowning, your face will stay like that forever," Alfred teased, chastely setting a kiss atop the girl's head before urging her to meet with her class. He observed her departure, and once she was in the care of her teacher, he made his retreat back past the entrance gates and over to the car once more.
Arthur started the car once he had his seatbelt on, heading for the hospital. "Did everything go all right?"
"Yeah, it'll be fine. Zoey's just a little worrywart sometimes," Alfred stated with a faltering grin, propping up his head with one arm on the car door. "She's tough though, so I'm sure she'll manage."
"I see…"
They arrived at work shortly afterward, and it wasn't until Alfred was back on the floor of the ER again that he discovered his absence had been noted by many. A majority of the staff asked him if he was faring well, and he shared a few good-humored remarks with them before settling back into the customary swing of the day.
He could've lived without the morning huddle, though.
"We need to start working on punching out on time, guys. This is an extremely important procedure that we must abide by and—"
He zoned out during the remainder of Elizabeta's speech, deciding instead to mentally organize the tasks that he would have to complete throughout the course of the day. When the info-session had been completed, he returned to the nurses' station, hoping that his shift wouldn't be too hectic.
Lucky for him though, a new admission prompted his attention and Arthur briefed him on the situation. "Hypotensive, confused, and vomiting adult male who stopped taking his betamethasone."
"Sounds like a blast," Alfred groaned, taking the medical file from Arthur to skim it. "Tell me that I love my job."
"You love your job. In fact, you adore it."
Smiling cheekily, Alfred mustered a spring in his step. "Thanks, I need to be reminded sometimes. We've all been there, I'm sure."
"I'll leave you to it then."
"Hey, are you gonna buy your tea at Starbucks today?"
Rolling his eyes with a shake of the head, Arthur said tersely, "What do you want?"
"The usual."
"Caramel Macchiato?"
"Yes, you're the best."
"I know."
Alfred took a moment to laugh at the elder's smug expression as he trudged away before tending to the aforementioned patient.
There was nothing like starting off the day right by cleaning up some vomit.
Oh, yes, he loved his job, all right.
