Chapter 11: Part Two: Christopher: Recovery Blues

Christopher's P.O.V

"Aleks? Wake up." I gently poke the sleeping girl, waiting as her eyelids flutter open revealing half dazed eyes. She pushes a strand of hair from her face, momentarily blinded by the light coming in from a singular porthole. She opens her mouth as she yawns loudly; never one for waking up alert.

I shuffle a little back as she lets out a long whine. She looks terrible. I glance over at the book lying on the table and make the connection between the bloodshot eyes and black shadows beneath her eyes. Must remember to take her lamp away tonight and the book. She needs sleep to recover but obviously the physcotic, one sided love of a mad professor to his innocent student captures her interests more. I sometimes wonder where Morgan gets these novels from and to what purpose does he need them.

I smile at her, pushing the book to one corner before putting down the tray I was carrying on the table beside her bedside. She sits up, a little awkwardly but her condition has improved a lot since she was shot four months ago. Her movements have almost reached their past fluidity; her legs growing stronger as we take long walks around the deck each day.

"Christopher?" She asks, rubbing her eyes and stretching her arms out. A shiver runs down my spine but I hide it as I allow myself to gently hug the girl good morning. Aleks's voice sounded incredibly enticing for a half awake patient. I turn away for a moment to allow Aleks to adjust herself to sit up, busying my hands with preparing the cutlery and breakfast. A grunt comes from behind me; Aleks's half asleep way of notifying me she's sat up, decent and ready for food. Smiling gently, I turn back around to her.

"Good morning Aleks." I reply, preparing the pillows before gently lowering her back down. She looks up at me and smiles back, reaching out to wipe away some lint on my shoulder. I'm glad to see her alive and recovering, the horror of removing the bullets from an unconscious, alcohol infused Aleks lingering in the back of my mind. I will never forget the blank intensity of her eyes and the dribble of blood bubbling up between her lips. Over these past few months I have spent nurturing her, I have seen her eyes change their mood and tone many times, from the glittering light amber of happiness to the brooding serious chocolate brown of sorrow. But never once will I ever be as terrified by them as I was when Thomas carried her in her, limp like a rag doll.

"Hey Christopher." She greets, looking over at the contents of the tray. "So what's Nathan got for me today?" She asks as I hand her a mug of herbal tea with honey. She wrinkles her nose at the bitter smell, holding the hot mug in one hand before passing it to the other. Aleks looks like she would rather throw it out the window than drink it; staring at the rising steam as if it was poisonous gas.

"Aleks…" I warn, lowering my tone. The daily struggle to get Aleks drink her medicinal drink has become a habit. "Don't make me force you."

"Chris, have you ever actually drank the stuff yourself? It tastes like the pig swill I used to serve." Aleks mutters in protest but she now eyes me warily, taking my threat into consideration.

"It's good for you and until you're out of my care you're drinking this 'pig swill'." I say, raising my hand towards her nose. Her eyes widen as she remembers how she found out the hard way that I will make her drink this. I pinched her nose shut and when she opened her mouth for air, I tipped some of the drink down. It wasn't a pleasant experience for both of us.

"Fine you controlling tyrant." She mutters, smirking a little, before raising the mug to her lips and quickly swallowing the mixture. Her features morph into a disgusted expression as she finally hands the mug back to me, wiping away the remaining liquid from her lips. I can't help but gawk a little at them. They look so nice, plump and soft if a little cracked. I can feel her questioning my fixation so I reluctantly tear my gaze away.

"It wasn't so bad, was it?" I cheerily ask, if a little too brightly, handing her a warm bowl of porridge with some jam on top. I feel a little competitive as I view the dish pass hands; Nathan obviously is trying to impress Aleks with these tantalizing dishes whilst I'm forcing the girl to drink horrid medicinal brews.

"It tasted like piss." She replies, devouring the porridge with obvious relish. I wait for her to finish in pleasant silence, preparing the fresh dressing for her. We change them daily, now the scars aren't as bad as before; the blood is cleared up, mangled flesh scraped away and the pus stopped a few weeks ago. But in case of septicaemia I still change her bandages. Perhaps in three days Aleks might be able to walk around again, before resuming some light activities. Another few weeks and she should be as right as rain.

I'm so engrossed in my thoughts that I don't notice Aleks until she taps me on my arm.

"Chris…"

Aleks's P.O.V

"-you ok?" I ask, tugging at his sleeve. He seemed spaced out, narrowly missing the bottle of medicinal spirits. My hand shoots out and grabs the bandage as it nearly misses rolling off the edge. Something's wrong with Christopher today; he's daydreaming and vacant. Normally he's attentive to everyone but I guess that today is his off day.

"Hmm?" He says as his eyes lose that vacant expression. I quirk an eyebrow up at him and gesture with my head. He soon realizes what I'm trying to get at and nods patiently as he takes the bandage from my hand. "Just a little light headed Aleks."

"Be careful Chris, don't really want you to get hurt." I say as he motions for me to sit up again. I feel his strong hand on the small of my back, helping me to lift myself up. We stop for a moment, allowing me to catch my breath, before Chris throws back my duvet and I swing my legs over the side of the bed. My legs, once as weak as a foal's, are strong enough for me to be able to stand up, if a little shaky. Chris takes me out sometimes for walks to help me firm them up and get used to the motion.

I wobble suddenly, my knee caught unprepared for the weight of my body and I begin to fall over. I shut my eyes as a squeak escapes past my lips; waiting for my body to smash against the wooden floor. But instead, I don't feel what would have been excruciating pain, but instead a pair of arms quickly wrap themselves carefully around my lower waist and draw me close to a solid chest. Cracking open my eyes, I realise that I'm staring into the white shirt clad chest of Chris and I grip onto him as my world finishes swaying.

"Thanks Chris." I take a step back when the dizziness stops and smile at him. I sag back down onto the bed for a few moments, before lifting myself up again. In a flash, Christopher is back by my side again hovering anxiously over me.

"It's the duty of a doctor to protect his patients." He says, holding his hand out as I sway for a moment again. Latching onto it, I rebalance myself.

"Sorry for being a nuisance."

"Aleks, it's fine." He insists, never dropping that easy going smile. I feel so safe whenever he's around; like he's my guardian angel in a naïve, childish way. Hauling one of my arms around his shoulder, he carefully handles me towards the other end of the room where a freshly washed pile of my clothes lay. I can feel him tense a little as Chris shoulders my weight.

"You're an excellent doctor." I compliment him. We near the table with my clothes and he lets go of me when I'm standing right in front of it, leaning with all my weight on the smooth surface. I wait as he sets up a screen between me and him to protect my modesty as I change from my nightshift to my daily clothes, watching his fluid graceful movements flowing into one another with a trained patience. He seems so serene to remain silent whilst I watch him, envying that flawless grace that I could never have. And I'm supposed to be the girl.

"There we go." He finally breaks the silence as the screen is finally set up. I smile and push myself off the table, shooing away Christopher with a wave of my hand. I shake a little as I let go, walking independently and I spot Christopher start to inch forwards towards me, a worried expression on his face.

"Get back behind the screen, your pervert!" I manage to laugh a little as Chris disappears blushing behind the screen, a muttered apology thrown over his shoulder. It was sweet, really, that Christopher is such a good friend, I think to myself as I pull my nightdress over my head. The morning air feels cold against my skin as I hastily pull on some undergarments. The billowy cotton shirt envelops my body, but I feel a slight strain across my arms as I lift the sleeve; I must have grown a little bit taller.

I have just finished putting on my undershirt as the shop gives a sudden buck as it crests a large wave, throwing me off balance. It slams me heavily against the wall, clothes flying everywhere, whilst I moan in agony as pain rips through my side. I slide down the wall and fall onto the wooden floorboards with a loud thump. Lying sprawled out, my chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

"Chris….A little help if you don't mind."

Christopher shoots back through the screen within seconds of my cry, faltering a little as he sweeps back the screen and looks at my thinly clad form; the white undershirt the only thing covering me. I send up a silent prayer to the gods that it is very long and covers everything up to my knees.

"Uh…"Chris stammers for a moment as his face blushes again, avoiding looking at anything but her. I let out a choked laugh, silenced by another whimper as I try to stand up.

"Geez, Chris you've seen me naked before. At least this covers all the important parts." I say, reaching out my hand to him. A smile breaks out across his face as he catches my smirk. A sigh escapes his lips and he shakes his head at me.

"That was under surgery, Ola! It was absolutely necessary." Chris protests, flushing even further under my teasing. Relenting, he comes over and gradually lifts me up to stand.

"Don't lie to yourself Chris. You know you liked it." I giggle as he hauls me up. He stiffens at my comment, his grip tightening on my waist, effectively tying me in place. I stand still, stunned at the change of attitude in Chris. He's always so gentle and passive, that he acting so possessive and controlling is out of character. He rests his chin on my shoulder, tilting his head so his lips are separated from the skin on my neck by merely my hair.

"Mine." He quietly says, his breath grazes along my collarbone. I lift a hand up and cup his cheek, feeling the slight stubble along his jawbone.

"Chris" His warms arms wrap around my waist make me feel safe, tied to reality in a way. I glance up to Chris and he's staring back down at me, eyes wide and glazed. They look similar to mine in colour but the depth is way beyond what my can achieve.

We stand, frozen in that position. The world carries on as normal. The faint strains of Russell and Eduardo yelling from above carrying down to us. But we are in our own little world in that moment, just with each other in it.

I blush under his intense survey of my face, wrenching my gaze away from his. I feel the arms drop as I push myself away from him, letting my air fall into my face to cover MY blush. Daring to take a peek, I turn around to see Chris staring at me like he crash landed back to Earth.

What is wrong with me? I can't be falling for everyone. That's impossible. My own goal was to only use this ship as a method of transportation to their land, which I thought full of wealthy merchants. Maybe I could've gotten a job as a clerk or assistant. But instead this happened. I am in love with a pirate. The very type my mother told me to avoid. I'm working as one, acting against the law but what law do the lawless have? I serve only the Pirate King, my newest ambition to rule over the Seven Seas just like Morgan. I'm dressing and eating the things they do. I'm close with all of them. They're the only real friends I had in my short life.

The naïve little me I left in Yamato would have been horrified.

"Chris." I break the silence. He jolts at the sound of my voice, mouth open a little.

"Ola! I'm so sorry, I don't know what was going through my mind…I acted out of order." He begins to stammer, the normal Chris flooding back into him. He held back as I silence him with a look.

"Chris, stop panicking and get yourself over here. I need help to pick up the rest of my clothes and if we don't get out son, I'm pretty sure that THOMAS AND NATHAN, who are behind the door, will start to suspect something." I cheerfully say, raising my voice a little as the door is thrown open, revealing the two eavesdroppers.

Chris and I start to laugh as they pick themselves up from the floor and scatter out of the door. Their departing footfalls fade away and we're left to ourselves again.

It feels happy, right. It feels like regret shouldn't.

As I meet Chris's gaze from across the room, I know he feels the same.