A/N: This is the first LoZ fic I ever wrote seriously. It actually was started about three years ago and has been finished on and off after having survived through three hiatuses and a serious consideration of scrapping. But I decided to give it another chance, and am actually quite pleased with the results. Rated PG-13 for violence and Link's surprisingly dirty mouth; warnings include angst, sadness, violence, Link/Zelda pairing (no citrus), and alternate realities. The timeline I'm basing things on is a quasi-alternate-reality of my own creation: I base most if not all of my Zelda fanfiction on the idea that all the deeds done and chronicled in the Zelda games (with the exception of the Wind Waker for obvious reasons) were the deeds of one brave young lad chosen by Destiny and the three Goddesses as the Hero of Time, the Legendary Hero. Oh. And I don't own Linky (more's the pity) or Zelda or any of the game's other characters. They are copyrighted to Miyamoto Shigeru-san and Nintendo, the lucky bastards. I own, however, sole copyright of each and every one of my original characters. Steal them and I will hunt you down and break your elbows. Remember: A vague threat is no one's friend.
-Act II-
-Dimensional Refugees-
2
The ambulance roared to a stop I front of the emergency room at Mercy Medical Center, The nameless victim was taken directly inside by the trauma team, and that was the last Kate saw of him for a time.
The young John Doe had been treated for his wounds and taken to a room in the Intensive Care Unit. There he stayed for about two weeks until his condition stabilized some, and was moved to a regular room. The victim was completely silent, ignoring the pleas and requests of any information about himself or his homeland. He seemed either unwilling or unable to say anything. Days passed and still nothing. He sat, unmoving, every day spent staring out the window from the hospital bed, his right arm in a sling from where it had been broken. The hospital staff at Mercy quickly noticed that the silent young man rarely ever slept, and when he did, it was restless, and he would often awake screaming from some horrible nightmare.
And so he remained in the hospital, silent, somber, and quite often brooding about some hidden, unknown inner turmoil that he would reveal to none. One staff member, however, could have sworn that late one night as she walked past his room to work her late shift, she could hear muffled sobbing from within. When asked if it could have been the other occupant, she answered plainly that there was no one else in that room.
Finally, about two weeks after that, the hospital's administrative staff put their collective foot down, and decided that if someone could not get any information out of him within the week, he was out of Mercy's hands, and would have to finish his recuperation on his own, ready or not.
Mike Williams, Kate's supervisor, called her into his office two days later and gave her the long and short of it. Well, mostly the short. "If somebody doesn't talk to him fast, and get something out of him, then in five days, he's toast."
Kate blinked, startled by her boss' blunt speech.
"The hospital administration is at their wit's end. They can't get anything out of him, and quite frankly, he's taking up space."
"What am I supposed to do about it?" Kate asked plainly, not quite sure where she fit in. Then, even as he started to explain, she understood.
"I read your report, Ms. Madison, and I know you got his guard down before," Williams explained.
For some inexplicable reason, Kate bristled. "With all due respect, sir," she grated, I did not 'get his guard down.' I calmed a frightened patient so he could receive treatment. If you and the administration have a problem with that, then I won't have anything to do with it."
She turned her back on him, and he stood in an attempt to get her to reconsider. "Look, Kathryn, I know you don't think much of my solution. But I'm not trying to get you to take advantage of him or anything. I do want to help this guy as much as we can. If he's discharged now, there's no telling what could happen to him out there. I don't want that. You're the only one who has any chance of getting that through to him. Please try. If it doesn't work, then…" he shrugged.
Kate's face softened and she turned around. "All right, sir. I'll give it a try," she relented. She knew he didn't mean for her to take advantage of anyone. Long day, she supposed, had put her nerves on edge. "If I don't have any success, what is he gonna do?"
"I don't know, Ms. Madison. I really don't."
-Act II-
-Dimensional Refugees-
2
The ambulance roared to a stop I front of the emergency room at Mercy Medical Center, The nameless victim was taken directly inside by the trauma team, and that was the last Kate saw of him for a time.
The young John Doe had been treated for his wounds and taken to a room in the Intensive Care Unit. There he stayed for about two weeks until his condition stabilized some, and was moved to a regular room. The victim was completely silent, ignoring the pleas and requests of any information about himself or his homeland. He seemed either unwilling or unable to say anything. Days passed and still nothing. He sat, unmoving, every day spent staring out the window from the hospital bed, his right arm in a sling from where it had been broken. The hospital staff at Mercy quickly noticed that the silent young man rarely ever slept, and when he did, it was restless, and he would often awake screaming from some horrible nightmare.
And so he remained in the hospital, silent, somber, and quite often brooding about some hidden, unknown inner turmoil that he would reveal to none. One staff member, however, could have sworn that late one night as she walked past his room to work her late shift, she could hear muffled sobbing from within. When asked if it could have been the other occupant, she answered plainly that there was no one else in that room.
Finally, about two weeks after that, the hospital's administrative staff put their collective foot down, and decided that if someone could not get any information out of him within the week, he was out of Mercy's hands, and would have to finish his recuperation on his own, ready or not.
Mike Williams, Kate's supervisor, called her into his office two days later and gave her the long and short of it. Well, mostly the short. "If somebody doesn't talk to him fast, and get something out of him, then in five days, he's toast."
Kate blinked, startled by her boss' blunt speech.
"The hospital administration is at their wit's end. They can't get anything out of him, and quite frankly, he's taking up space."
"What am I supposed to do about it?" Kate asked plainly, not quite sure where she fit in. Then, even as he started to explain, she understood.
"I read your report, Ms. Madison, and I know you got his guard down before," Williams explained.
For some inexplicable reason, Kate bristled. "With all due respect, sir," she grated, I did not 'get his guard down.' I calmed a frightened patient so he could receive treatment. If you and the administration have a problem with that, then I won't have anything to do with it."
She turned her back on him, and he stood in an attempt to get her to reconsider. "Look, Kathryn, I know you don't think much of my solution. But I'm not trying to get you to take advantage of him or anything. I do want to help this guy as much as we can. If he's discharged now, there's no telling what could happen to him out there. I don't want that. You're the only one who has any chance of getting that through to him. Please try. If it doesn't work, then…" he shrugged.
Kate's face softened and she turned around. "All right, sir. I'll give it a try," she relented. She knew he didn't mean for her to take advantage of anyone. Long day, she supposed, had put her nerves on edge. "If I don't have any success, what is he gonna do?"
"I don't know, Ms. Madison. I really don't."