Author's Note: Welcome back, if you're still reading. The story is finished, so updates will come quickly and regularly. If there's anything you like (or even dislike) in particular, I'd be happy to hear it.

The surgeon was true to his word and arrived at daybreak. He noticed immediately that Mr. Buxton had not slept since last evening. Not only was he still wearing the same clothes as the day before, but he looked exhausted and disheveld, which was very unusual for this always proper and correct man, and a clear indication of the worry which gnawed at him. The physician decided that he would give the him a stern talking to once he was finished checking on the son. He feared that he would have another patient on his hands unless he could convince the father to get some rest.

The greeting was brief, this was not a social call and both men were eager to find out how the patient was faring. The doctor deemed it too cruel to let Mr. Buxton wait outside the door, so he sent him to the kitchen to have some beef broth prepared and kept warm for the time William would waken. It would help to replenish the fluids and minerals from the blood loss. Happy to have a task which made him feel less useless Mr Buxton left.

Mrs. Hargrave was still holding vigil by William's bedside, and rose from her chair at the arirval of the surgeon.

"I'm glad you're here, sir. He has yet to wake, but he's been restless for the past hour or so. I think he's in pain. But I did not want to give him anything for it without your permission."

"You've done well, Mrs. Hargrave. I need him to wake up, if only briefly, so I can assess the state of his concussion and get some nourishment into him. If his brain functions are satisfactory he can have some Laudanum afterwards to help him rest." The physician sat down on the side of the bed and took William's wrist to count his heartbeat. He frowned when he found the pulse elevated, and pushing some damp curls from the patient's face he put a hand on his forehead to check for a fever. William rolled his head to the side and moaned softly at the contact. His brow was furrowed and his lips compressed into a thin line.

"His temperature is higher than I'd like it to be, but he's not running a fever. Did he manage to take any liquids during the night?"

Mrs. Hargrave nodded. "Yes, sir. I offered him water whenever he seemed to be a little more alert, and he managed a few sips at a time."

"Hmm. This may just be a result of the trauma and the discomfort, but it could also signal the onset of an infection." He cast a look at William's heavily bandaged arm. "We will have to tread a very fine line here. On the one hand the arm should be disturbed as little as possible to allow the bones to knit; on the other hand the wound will have to be disinfected on a regular basis." The doctor thought for a moment. "I think it would be best to leave the arm in the brace but cut the bandage at the top and leave the wound open. That will provide easy access without the need to unwrap and rewrap it every time. The surtures I put in last night will keep it closed, there is really no need for it to be covered. Will you hand me the small scissors from my bag, please?"

Mrs. Hargrave obeyed, and the surgeon proceeded to cut through the thick material. The doctor found the bandages to be unexpectedly snug; William's arm seemed to have swollen further during the night. It was unavoidable that the scissors would put some pressure on the injured limb while cutting. The young man gave a low whimper and tried to pull the arm away. The movement caused the broken bones to grind against each other, and William's eyes flew open with a strangled cry. His still unfocused gaze scanned his surroundings in obvious panic, and the physician quickly dropped the scissors to put restraining hands on his patient's shoulders to stop him from moving too much.

"It's alright, son, you're safe. Please try to stay still."

William tried bravely to focus on the figure in front of him. The effort caused a blinding flash of pain in his head, and he closed his eyes again with a groan. Still, the voice and the silhuette he had seen brought recognition to his foggy mind.

"Doc... tor?"

"Yes, William, it is I." The physician was well pleased that the young man had recognized him so readily. It was a welcome sign that the concussion was not serious.

"What... happ..." William's strength failed him, and the surgeon quickly told the housekeeper to fetch the broth he had ordered earlier. It was uncertain how long the young man would stay conscious, and it was important to get some nourishment into him while they had the chance. When the woman had bustled from the room the surgeon turned to his patient again, and helped him take a few sips of water. This seemed to revive the young man enough for the doctor to continue his interrogation.

"I'd much rather hear from you what happened."

"Not... sure."

"Try to remember," the physician urged him. He needed to know if there was any short-term memory loss.

William frowned in concentration. "Followed the... train..." he finally said. "It crashed... Peggy!" With surprising strength the young man grabbed the doctor's arm with his good hand. His wide eyes frantically searched the other man's face. "Is she safe? Did... did she get... far... enough..." The last word was just a faint breath, his last reserves exhausted. He fell back into the pillows gasping for breath; the bandage that strapped his ribs was too tight to allow his lungs to expand fully.

Fearing a panic attack, the doctor tried his best to soothe the frantic young man. "Shush, son, calm yourself. The young lady is fine, no need to worry. She looked after you on the cart which brought you back from the site of the accident. Slow, easy breaths now, and no more talking. You need to save your strength." It appeared he had found the right words, because William's breathing began to even out and his drawn features relaxed.

At that moment Mrs. Hargrave returned with the requested broth, and together they managed to feed most of the bowl's content to William. The young man was already half asleep again towards the end, but the surgeon still added a few drops of Laudanum to the last spoonfuls. What he had to do next would be very painful, and he wanted at least to take the edge off the ordeal of having the wound cleaned.