Kudos to French Heart for reviewing! Huzzah! ;)
8
A Timely Checkup
July the twenty-eighth, 1805
Diary,
The captain Jack has grown better and better each day, and has taken to bellowing his orders from his cabin in such a way so as to be heard from a mile away. Thus, Mr. Mowett and Mr. Blakeney have been allowed to save their voices for a time – orders are heard easily from the hold to the main topgallant sheet. He does this because I will not let him up, no matter how he hollers and pleads. To have all my work undone in minutes would be far too easy…
"Fernanda Maturin, I command you to let me up," Jack said as soon as I walked into his cabin with his dinner. I ignored him. "Fern, please! Just for a turn about the deck; the quarterdeck for God's sake. You don't understand," he whined as I granted him a look of sympathy. I adjusted the tray on his lap, however, without speaking. He caught my hand and resorted to petulance. "Fern…!"
"No, Jack. And you know very well why," I scolded, pulling my hand free and standing back out of reach. "I'm quite certain you can stand three more days abed."
"Absolutely not!" he declared forcefully, but his face had brightened. I had just reduced his 'sentence' by two days.
"Hmm," I said, raising one eyebrow skeptically. "Shall Stephen and I serenade you this evening after dinner?"
'Ha ha!' I thought to myself. 'What shall he think of this? There goes his to-sleep-by-eight-o'clock taboo.' He allowed himself a small smile.
"That would please me exceedingly," he said, the politest he'd been since the surgery.
"Good. Tomorrow's check-up day, by the way, and no laudanum for you this time. I need you decently awake to answer me a few things."
He squirmed, disliking being half-naked in front of me even though I had practically been looking into his stomach a few days before, but agreed in the end. I then left him, and spent the rest of the day amusing myself by watching the Surprise's crew at work finishing her paint job we sailed away from the Carolinas.
July the twenty-ninth, 1805
Aboard the HMS Surprise, a day out from Central America
Diary,
After our brief stop in the Carolinas to restock and refit (seeing as we lost our mainmast in the battle), and in Bonden's, the coxswain's, case, pick up information, we were well on our way again. Yes, the harbor-master said, a French man-'o-war had passed by not five days since, but had not stopped there. The name was unable to be made out, but it was an easily recognizable color: black, with a broad yellow stripe along the gunports. Without a doubt it was our privateer, the Orages Terrible. However, Jack has decided not to make pursuit, on account of me; though it is certain what might follow would not be half as bad as what I witnessed in the sickbay of the Surprise. But never mind that… Jack is due for his check-up now, no matter how he dreads it, and I must go to him immediately…
"Marm!" Benjamin threw me a stiff salute as I approached the captain's cabin, Stephen's customary check-up bag in my hand. Bowing slightly, he opened the door and closed it behind me. I glared.
"You should not be out of bed, Mr. Aubrey," I said stiffly upon sight of him sitting on the lockers. However, instead of the hearty grin I had expected, he looked up with a weak shadow of a smile on his gray face. Alarm grew up my back and curled around my neck in icy fingers of warning. "Sir…?" He drew in a great breath with difficulty.
"I'm glad you came," he rasped, wincing with the effort of communicating as I went to him. "I confess I… Good God…"
"Jack. Tell me what's wrong," I nearly demanded, looking him in the eye. He met my gaze, his entire body hunched and lined with pain.
"I'm dying," he managed to croak. "I'm dying, I know it. Ah…" He gasped sharply as I straightened him, undoing his waist coat and sliding it off his shoulders. His shirt soon followed.
"Keep going," I murmured, kneeling beside him to undo the bandages. With each layer that came away, my feeling of dread increased. They were spotted with blood and a fluid of some ugly yellowish color. Infection had set in for sure.
"I noticed an ache in my side when I woke up this morning," he went on laboriously. "When I moved it burned like fire, but when I sat quite still it didn't hurt so bad. That's why I'm here; the cot rocked too much." He saw me blanch as the last bandage came away. "What? What is it?"
"Oh Jack… all right, don't move. Keep your shoulders back, and try not to jerk or anything – this is going to hurt."
He clenched his teeth and straightened as I directed. "Get it over with."
"Very well then. Press this cloth against your side, just so… to the right more, against your navel… very good. Here we go…"
He had time for only one apprehensive glance at the knife in my hand before I sliced the stitches one by one, the angry red flesh pulling distastefully. He groaned aloud, throwing his head back and tightening every muscle in his body, but made no more complaint than that. I sighed with relief as puss dribbled out, slowing as the infection was purged. As gently as possible, I pressed his abdomen above and below the wound, trying to ignore his harsh racking breaths of pain. More yellow-white fluid emerged, and I set my knife down to wipe the wound clean with a wet rag and soap shavings.
"Done?" he gasped out.
"Nearly," I replied. I glanced up to see his shoulders shaking as he fought against the pain. "Just hold on, and I'll be done in less than a minute."
"Could you… damn!" His curse exploded rather violently as my needle pierced his skin, and I bit down on my lip on accident.
"Talk?"
"Yes…"
"All right." I scowled at his wound for being so bothersome, and kept up a tirade of chatter as I sewed busily. I spoke of life in Ireland, about Stephen's first absence with the Surprise, his return and his retelling of every adventure he had had aboard, about reuniting with Jack, and about my nanny, Sarah, who had been with me since I was born right up until the day Stephen dismissed her. By the time I had used up all the words I was sure could be used in a lifetime, I had finished stitching, salving, and binding my patient, and I sat back on my heels to look up at him.
"Well. How does that feel?"
"Like hell, but better than this morning," he admitted, slumping back against the wall. He gave me a small smile. "Fern to the rescue once again."
"It's my new job, sir," I said with a smile, folding up the soiled cloths and putting them in a bundle to wash later. The instruments I did the same with, and then put it all into the little satchel that held them. "Come now; I daresay a little fresh air will do wonders for your temperament."
And so, with much leaning on my shoulder, the captain and I made our way up on deck. There was a great cheer as we appeared, and three Huzzahswere sanctimoniously roared all about the ship. Jack's weary face soon lifted into a smile, and he saluted his sailors, officers, and midshipmen in reply. However, we did not remain above very long. Jack soon grew very tired, and I was obliged to take him below once again. I remained with him as he fell asleep, holding his hand and relating picturesque tales of my homeland until a gentle snore interrupted me. Smiling, I replaced his hand upon his blankets and – perhaps against my better judgment – leaned down and placed a kiss on his peaceful brow.
Let's all breathe a sigh of relief... Jack's not dead! Yet! Oops... wasn't suppose to say that... But never mind! More tomorrow, and after that who knows? I'm at an impasse! Crap:-P
-DR
More fluff:
Jack: She ruined it! She always ruins everything!
Stephen: Stop being so dramatic. You're adgitating my bees.
Jack: Oh God...
Stephen: --chuckles evilly--
