April 8th, 1995

Heiligendamm im Mecklenburg, Germany

"My father is retiring," Johann announced as he set himself down heavily in his chair at the kitchen table. He both looked and sounded tired and seemed less than happy that his father was moving on from the working world. Eliza's brow crinkled with concern.

"Doctor Faust was always so very good to me," she commented quietly. "It is a loss, but he must deserve a happy retirement." She set the sugar bowl down onto the table along with Johann's customary mug of coffee.

"It is not so much the fact that he is retiring as it is the reason," he sighed, looking truly miserable now. "He's been forgetting things lately. It is the first sign, you know. Of the—"

"The Faust family madness?" Eliza finished for him, seating herself with her own cup of coffee. "My dear, he's getting old. Forgetfulness isn't exactly unusual for someone of his age, I'm sure you are aware." Eliza looked quite sure, very sure, in fact, that the good, kind, honest Doctor Faust was not coming down with a case of hereditary insanity. But Johann himself was quite sure of the opposite.

"Of all the people in the world, Eliza, I would have hoped for at least a teaspoon of sympathy from you," he muttered angrily, stirring a single sugar cube into his mug. Without bothering to at least put the used spoon in the sink, he tossed it onto the table towards his wife and stalked off, presumably to his study. Eliza stared after him coldly and feeling thoroughly disrespected. So much for the new hat she had bought him for his birthday. It would remain hidden in the closet until he decided to be a more civilized person, she decided, and with that, she went off to take care of her own business, leaving Johann's used spoon on the table. Men could be such pigs sometimes.

The clinic was closed, as it was Sunday, but Eliza was hard at work inside, shelving the files of patients they had seen over the previous week. Being the only clinic in the small coastal town meant that they had their work cut out for them, but the cases were all much the same. Scrapes and lacerations from diving near the rocks. The occasional flu that went around. Travelers experiencing nausea from sea travel. It was all very much typical and it was a peaceful life, though sometimes it could feel as though every day was the same. Jingling and the sound of panting announced the arrival of their pet dog, Frankie. Eliza let slip a small smile, feeling her mood improve. Frankie always looked like he was in good spirits. She took a small break to give his ears a decent scratching and she picked a stray flower out of his collar that had gotten stuck there. Frankie liked to roll in the buttercups that grew in the yard and he would sometimes come home tinted yellow because of them. Already feeling her sourness fading away, she tucked the buttercup into the band that kept her hair out of her face and got back to work. She would hurry up so she could go make lunch and properly apologize to Johann.

But, as it so happened, she didn't find herself wrapping up on her work until close to sundown. An examination of the supply closet revealed that they were nearly out of gauze and tourniquets, which she then had to order. On top of that she knocked out nearly two hours attempting to troubleshoot the autoclave as the instruments were coming out cold and still noticeably soiled. They would have to call a repairman out to fix it the next day; it couldn't be helped.

The click of the key in the lock and the sound of the front door opening made her jump. She hadn't even noticed how late it had become and how dark it had become as well. "Johann?" she called, wiping grease from her hands on a paper towel as she stepped out into the waiting room. Sure enough, her husband stood in the doorway, his expression making her wonder if he had gotten run over by a truck during her absence. Frankie licked his hands expectantly but Johann ignored him, reaching over instead to turn on the lights. The overhead bulbs made him look paler and more tired than ever. Wordlessly, Eliza went to him.

"Johann, I—"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close, effectively cutting her off. "No, it was my fault, I lost my temper, I am so—"

"Please let me say I am sorry," Eliza interrupted, reaching up to lay a hand against Johann's cheek. It moved under her palm as he offered her a small smile.

"Only if you will also accept my apologies," he said, his own hand covering hers. For several moments they stared into each other's eyes in the silent clinic, each feeling pride in the love they shared.

"I-I have a birthday gift for you," Eliza finally said, breaking the moment. "In the house. I need to turn the autoclave off and put out the mail for tomorrow, but I'll be up there in a few minutes. Would you please start some water boiling for the noodles? I'm just starving." As if on cue, her stomach rumbled insistently. Johann smiled tenderly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand and he turned to leave without another word. The door shut behind him and Frankie started to whine, obviously feeling left out. Eliza gave him a pat on the head before heading back to shut off the autoclave.

Barely two minutes passed before she heard the front door open again. When she'd said "a few minutes", she'd really meant perhaps ten or fifteen, but it seemed that Johann didn't want to wait. Laughing to herself and clutching the mail, she stepped back out into the hallway leading to the waiting room. "You can't leave a pot on the stove unattended," she called in a teasing voice, her shoes clicking on the tiles as she made her way towards the front. She jumped as Frankie suddenly barked, the sound echoing loudly. "Johann?" she called again as she appeared from around the corner. A loud sound, like a resounding pop rang out and Frankie crumpled to the floor. Eliza screamed in terror as she realized that Frankie had been shot and that the figure in the doorway was not her husband. She barely had time to realize what was about to happen before the next deafening shot rang out and Eliza knew no more.