Hi there!
I didn't realize this chapter would be this long! Hope you like it!
I don't know why but I really like writing Delalieu for some reason, he's just so cute in my head! 3
Now to the fic! (￣▽￣)ゞ
Day 37
"Sir, I have news!", Delalieu announced when he lowered his hand in salute.
The commander only sign of interest was a quick turn of his head. Green eyes alert.
"Speak lieutenant", he invited.
"They're taking the respiratory tube out, sir." Delalieu was excited. Even if they had discovered her last name there hadn't been much development in the research of her origin. All they had come up with was that Sjögren was definitely a Scandinavian last name. Together with the fact that the research of the mutated plague was at a standstill the Chief commander was getting restless. So was the higher ups.
"Is she getting better?", he wondered.
Delalieu's excitement blued a little.
"They say that she's not getting worse by taking the t-tube out", he explained.
Which meant the tube wasn't helping at all, Warner remarked. He dismissed the thought.
"And the blood has ceased too?", he asked.
"They never actually said that, b-but it's much less of it for sure", Delalieu replied.
Warner hadn't actually been there to witness this progress, but he took the Lieutenant's word for it.
"I will be the one to speak with her first." It wasn't a question.
The lieutenant nodded in assurance.
"We assumed that that's what you wanted, sir", he said.
Warner looked at the paperwork in front of him. Thought for a few moments.
"When will they proceed?", he asked.
"She needs to be a-asleep when they pull it out, they'll just give her some sedatives for that. Then she's going to need some time to wake up. As of when can probably be planned to suit the commander…", Delalieu explained.
Warner thought over his schedule for the day.
"They don't have enough time to do this before my lunch meeting, correct?", Warner asked. Referring to the medics.
Both of them looked at the time. Quarter past eleven.
Delalieu frowned, Warner tsked his tongue in impatience.
"Starting near the end of the meeting? It's planned to be two hours", Warner suggested.
"I'm sure we can arrange it, sir", Delalieu assured.
Warner nodded again.
"Excellent", he said.
"I want you to oversee the whole procedure, Lieutenant."
Delalieu had startled in surprise.
"You are supervising her progress", Warner reminded.
"Ah…", Delalieu exhaled. Then straightened.
"Y-yes, of course sir!", he nodded.
"Go inform the medics of our arrangement", Warner ordered out.
Delalieu saluted and was then dismissed.
"Here", one of the nurses said.
"Huh?"
She was holding out a white rectangle for him. They were both standing outside the window. She had just come out from the room.
Delalieu had watched the whole thing, as instructed. The sedative had been injected and she had fallen asleep. After making sure she slept deep enough they removed the tube; keeping a stethoscope against her chest during the whole procedure. Everything passed with no complications whatsoever.
She made a motion with her hand for him to take it.
He obeyed.
The rectangle was made out of folded, soft white fabric. There were two straps out of cotton attached to either sides. He looked at it. Unsure of what it was.
"Put it on before you go in", she instructed.
He stared at it for a few seconds, to embarrassed to ask what on earth it was she had given him. But when he looked up to finally ask he realized she was wearing the exact same thing.
A white medical mask; completely covering her mouth.
Her eyebrows were raised.
"Do you need any help with that sir?", she asked.
He shook his head.
"N-no I'm fine…!", he assured her.
She gave him a curt nod.
"Good, then you can come right in when you're ready."
He didn't catch the meaning at first. Instead he tugged out the two straps and brought them behind his ears. Covering his mouth and nose with the white piece of fabric. There was a sticky line along the edge that he had to run his fingers over to make sure there were no gaps.
Then he had to pause. Thought about what she had said for a moment, and understood what she was suggesting. His eyes widened.
"W-wait, can I really go in there?", he asked, making a move with his head towards the window.
The nurse nodded.
"Since you're immune to the former plague you'll be completely fine. The mask is more of a standard procedure", she waved off.
He blinked a few times.
"Forgive me for asking, but... why me?"
A smile broke out on her face.
"Why, you've been here every day since she got here, sir! And to be honest, she would be happier to wake up to see you than the Chief commander."
He felt his cheeks heat up in a blush. Luckily the white mask was already on, so the nurse didn't notice. Or at least it hoped it didn't show.
"You have to take of your shoes though", she said, giving his feet a look.
"O-oh, okay", he nodded and immediately bent down to untie them.
The nurse halted him by a hand on his arm.
"You can wait with that until we're inside the adjoined room, sir", she said.
He straightened up again.
"Mhm…!", he nodded. Doubting that the mask could cover up his embarrassment any longer.
"Come with me", the nurse said and gestured for the door the doctors and nurses always walked through. He followed.
The mask made everything smell like diapers. Not in a bad way. It was the smell of clean, white diapers. He caught himself feeling a tinge of nostalgia with every small inhale of his nose.
Warner did not seem to enjoy the smell quite as much.
He had arrived as soon as the meeting had ended and was now standing against a wall. Arms crossed over his chest.
Delalieu was sitting in a chair by the bed.
Both were waiting for some kind of sign of awakening.
"Alice?", Delalieu asked. His voice quiet.
The only other sound in the room was the rattling of the air pump. The mask was gone now, but they kept an oxygen mask by the bed just in case.
She didn't wake up.
"Alice?", he repeated. After some hesitation he reached forward and shook her a little by the shoulder.
She stirred at that. Gray eyes slowly fluttering open. After some blinking they found his.
A little glossy. Only half awake.
He was sitting on a chair by the bed. His uniform jacket was draped over the back of the chair.
She stared at him.
He smiled at her surprised look. She hadn't expected to see him.
"How do you feel, dear?", he asked.
A shadow of a depressing reminder passed over her face, but it cleared up in remembrance as soon as it came. All she had to do was to swallow and realize the difference. She tried a small gentle, but firm, exhale. It rattled, but she didn't dive into a coughing fit either.
As she took in this newfound freedom of her airways he turned around and nodded for Warner.
"Can she sit up?", the commander asked. He went to the wall and brought another chair with him to the other side of the bed.
Delalieu looked at Alice for some sort of answer. She seemed to check her condition, then shook her head.
Warner saw this as well.
"No problem", he sighed and sat down
"Stay laid down."
"So, Alice. You wrote down your name on a piece of paper the other day, didn't you?", Warner started.
Alice immediately knew what he was talking about. Her eyes lighting up a little.
"Alice… Showgreen?"
"Sjögren", she corrected. It sounded like Shh-ugh-gr-en (like encyclopedia). Her voice was quiet and gentle, careful of not letting too much air out at once. It was clear it took a lot of effort to utter the small word.
"Exactly", Warner nodded, even though he had had no idea how the name was supposed to be pronounced.
"We're already working on finding your origin. But since you can talk now it would make things much easier if you filled in some things for me", he continued.
"Though talk might be a bit of an over statement", he corrected himself.
Alice hummed, seeming to be on the same track.
Warner flipped open a notepad and clicked the bottom of a ballpoint he had gotten from his pocket.
"So, where did you come from when you showed up in my office more than a month ago?", he asked, straight to the point.
"Because you're not from sector 45, are you?"
She looked at him a little strangely. She didn't answer.
"Alice…", Delalieu perked in, making her shift her attention to him.
"You once told me that it was 'a lot colder where you were from'. Remember? You had given your gloves to the boy in your house, so your hands were cold." He retold, looking between her and the commander, who was watching the conversation.
Alice nodded after remembering.
"Where is that...? Where you're from", Delalieu asked.
She brightened up at that.
"Sweden", she answered.
"I'm from... Sweden", she said, having to take a short break in the middle of the sentence. But the glossy layer over her eyes cleared up a little, her excited healthy self flicker by, even for just a second.
The two men shared a look.
"Good…", Warner said making a small notation on his paper.
"But where were you before coming here?", he asked.
"How did you get to sector 45?"
Alice just blinked.
"Well if you're from Sweden you must have come here. How did you get here?", he asked.
She shifted her gaze as she seemed to think it over.
The two gentlemen waited. They saw how Alice frowned a little. She put a hand on her head, frown deepening. She looked troubled all of a sudden.
"Alice?", Delalieu asked. He touched her forehead with the back of his hand to see if she was catching a fever.
She did feel a little warm.
"I don't…", she said. Fumbling over the words.
The two shared another look.
"How are you feeling Alice?", Warner asked, lowering the note pad.
"Tired…", she replied. Her frowning changed to heavy blinking. It looked like she was mere seconds from falling asleep.
"Maybe we should continue this some other time…", Warner suggested.
"Yes, she probably needs to rest some more after the sedatives…", Delalieu agreed.
Warner aimed his eyes at the sick girl again. "I'll come back when I have the time", he said. Then he rose and went out, not waiting for Delalieu. The door closed behind him.
Delalieu was just about to scoot back the chair to rise when he felt something touch his hand. He looked down in surprise and saw Alice's hand have contact with his own.
A pair of fingertips.
Barely brushing against him.
He tensed some.
They were too cold. Looking at Alice he saw that she was looking at him with tired eyes. They were still a little glossy, but awake. Still blinking to fight sleep.
He relaxed. Then gently, and with some caution, he let his fingers cover hers. Then, as gently, he closed it. His thumb starting to rub the side of her hand to alter some warmth.
"You're doing a great job, dear", he said, quietly.
"You'll get well in no time, you'll see."
He felt a small push inside his palm. Reassuring? Agreeing? Whatever it was it made him feel better.
"Just rest now", he said and watched as her eyes closed. He sat there with his thumb rubbing her hand until her breaths deepened and he was sure she was asleep. When they did he gently let go of her hand. Then he reached for the mask and put it on with the rubber band around her head; figuring it would be foolish to leave her without it. It amazed him that she didn't wake up.
Pushing back his chair a second time that day he stood up, took his jacket, hung it over his arm and headed for the door. But as he reached for the handle he felt a tug. Not a literal tug to his sleeve, but it was something. Something that had halted his hand.
He looked back at Alice. At the crease between her eyes. At her hand lying on the white sheets. Small. Lonely.
There it was again. The tug.
Then realization struck him cold.
He didn't want to leave her alone.
He wanted to be there when she woke up again.
He shifted the weight of his feet. He had things to discuss with Warner. It was his job to assist the chief commander in these sorts of situations.
But his hand still hovered above the handle.
He blew a short huff through his moustache, sounding a bit odd with the mask still on. He made a decision.
Quickly, because the commander was waiting for him outside, he returned to the bed. Then he tucked her in, pulling the duvet up to her chin, folding it in over itself along her sides. Making sure to cover her hand in the process, to keep it warm.
When he deemed it finished he felt her forehead again; it wasn't any different. He made a small nod. It would have to do. For now.
Then he left. Giving her one last look through the window.