The table was bare when I awoke, which perhaps I should have predicted. Nevertheless, I checked every corner of the sick berth, thankful for the blazing light of day flooding from above. The sun had found us at last, but even that could not keep my worry from jumbling my insides.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I reached the quarter deck certain I would find my escapee there. And there he stood in naught but a tunic and trousers, being mindful of his shoulder (I would give him that) and talking enthusiastically with Tom. Jack's back was to me, but Tom saw me approaching and interrupted his captain's chuckling to excuse himself, just as I cleared my throat loudly.
Jack was smiling anew, knowing it was I before he turned. I crossed my arms defiantly, swallowing a grin so that I could scold him convincingly.
"I've never been known to talk in my sleep, Captain Aubrey, but I suppose your going to tell me I absent mindedly excused you from the berth?"
"No, indeed, Stephen, you were sleeping quite soundly when I left you this morning." The captain's good humor did not leave him.
"And why exactly did you leave?"
"Wretchedly uncomfortable to sleep on, those tables of yours are, doctor. Here I have believed always that your first concern was for your patient's relief and well-being."
I had to sigh at this, thoroughly disarmed once again by the boyish grin of Jack Aubrey.
"Well, then m'dear, may I see after your shoulder in the luxury of your own cabin?"
"Luxury! My, Stephen, such a compliment must be sent to Killick. He will be most pleased to hear that you think so highly of his upkeep." I rolled my eyes half-heartedly, as the captain and I did indeed make our way down to his room. I seated Jack in his chair at once, and felt after his fever.
"Still warm, Jack, too warm to be called normal. Don't overheat yourself on deck anymore today. Now as for this shoulder…" My intense cleaning of the bayonet wounds seemed to have chased off the majority of the awful infection that had threatened to take hold of the limb. The redness, too, had faded now until the area was mostly bandages and bruises.
Jack was quiet and cooperative, which when I commented on, he gave no reply. "Are you well, joy?" I ventured after his bandages had been changed, and I had gently returned his shirt to cover them.
"Just thinking, Stephen…" he said, very quietly. "Choices…" I smiled tentatively, showing him, as best I could, that I understood. His mind was recovering with his body. But for a captain, the scars of certain choices remain forever.
There was little melancholia in his step as he stood from the chair and walked the few steps toward the door, yawning broadly. He knew…well, he knows, me far too well and before my already open mouth could release its protest, he turned towards his hammock saying: "Now, if you'll excuse me, doctor, I'm overdue for a nap."
With that, Jack Aubrey flopped himself down in the swinging cloth, throwing his good arm across his eyes dramatically. I shook my head at him, chuckling all the way out of his door.
You're excused, Jack Aubrey. You are certainly and much more than excused.