The curtains remain drawn, and the room is still washed in dim, orange light. Lewis becomes aware of slight movement in the other bed. Hathaway's breathing shifts, becoming irregular, and his head turns a degree or two in Lewis's direction. Turning toward James, Lewis can see two eyes glinting at him.
"Hey, Hathaway. We made it out." He can tell that Hathaway is having the same trouble he had with uncooperative vocal cords. Lewis buzzes the nurse.
"We need some water in here for Sergeant Hathaway." While they wait, Lewis studies the depth of James's eyes.
"D'you remember me, James?"
Hathaway stares a long time, giving the impression that he does not remember. In truth, it takes him far longer to rally his neck muscles into nodding than it does to recognize his guv'nor.
Up . . . down . . . up . . . down.
Lewis wants to run over and hug his sergeant, but the electrodes, IV tube, and catheter bind him as effectively as steel chains to his bed.
The nurse enters and after a quick appraisal and asking a few questions of Hathaway, she gives him a sip of water and waits to see if he will speak. He merely looks away.
The nurse firms her lips into a line. "Mister Hathaway, are you ready for visitors? Your friends would like to see you." She speaks quietly.
Left . . . right . . . left . . . right.
"That's fine, you take your time. But I do need to tell the doctor you're awake." She sets the cup of water on the table next to his bed.
Hathaway exhales loudly after she leaves. He does not look at Lewis.
Silence settles over the room, except for the rhythmic hisses and beeps of the monitors. Lewis is worried about Hathaway, but decides for the time being he should be allowed to sort out his own memories and emotions.
Doctor Chen enters the room and smiles briefly at Lewis before approaching Hathaway. "Well, Sergeant, let's see how you're doing." He runs some basic tests, asks some basic questions—which to Lewis's relief, Hathaway answers—and checks the chart in his hand.
"Well, Sir, you're recovering very nicely. Do you remember being locked in a freezer for over twelve hours?"
Lewis can see James shake his head, No.
"Ah, that's typical. I believe your roommate here has been filled in by the two women who rescued you. I'm certain he'll be happy to tell you as much as he knows, if you're interested."
Lewis wants to make some contact with his sergeant. "Yeah, Hathaway, Hobson and Innocent found us. It's a pretty amazing story." He smiles eagerly, but Hathaway's countenance is stony.
The doctor continues his review. "You're suffering the effects of severe hypothermia—amnesia and general confusion—and you're not quite up to proper temperature yet, so you're bound to feel tired and chilled. In addition, you have frostbite here—" he indicates to James some bandages on his side, "and your fingertips have taken a beating. We're not sure what exactly you did to them, but most likely it was some attempt to dig your way out." He pulls out and checks Hathaway's hands, and Lewis can see that each of the ten digits bears a little white turban of gauze and tape.
Doctor Chen turns a bit stern. "These will hurt like hell, Mister Hathaway, I guarantee it. Your job is to ask for painkillers whenever these command the focus of your energy. Alright?"
James snorts and turns away. Lewis bites back, for now, what he wants to say: You DON'T deserve this pain, it is NOT your penance for some intangible sin you committed. He knows Hathaway is thinking along such lines. But he'll work James over later, after the doctor has gone.
The doctor has one more piece of news. "We think your right ankle is sprained. Can I see it now?"
Hathaway permits the doctor to release his right leg from the bedcovers.
"Good. Now flex it as far as you can this way . . . Good. And that way . . . Very nice. Now over here . . . Okay, thank you for your efforts. We will need to take an X-ray to complete our assessment. I don't think you will need a hard cast. Wrapping or maybe an air cast should be enough. A crutch for a couple of weeks. And then you should be back in fine form. Ironically, spending several hours ice-cold and inert was the best thing you could have done for it." He makes a note in the chart. "Do you have any questions for me?"
Lewis is unsurprised when Hathaway has none.
"Alright then, I'll go arrange for your x-ray." The doctor goes out, and silence fills the room for nearly an hour.
At last, Lewis can stand it no longer.
"Hathaway? We got out in time. It's a good thing."
James snorts.
"Alright, why isn't it a good thing?"
The sergeant inhales and holds the breath for a moment. "It never should have happened. It's my fault we were trapped in there at all."
Lewis expected the guilt but ponders Hathaway's answer. "Do you remember that? 'Cos I really am having trouble with me memory."
"I remember you yelling at me about procedure. Never be in the same position as your partner, right? Basic stuff. I was an idiot."
"Ah. I do sort of remember that. Sorry for yelling at you."
Hathaway snorts again.
Lewis continues the thread. "How about, The senior officer stays with the suspect while the junior officer checks out the new situation? Who violated that one?"
Another snort. And an angry reply. "That's not what nearly killed us. If I'd only stayed out with the cook, your violation wouldn't have mattered."
"And if I'd stayed out with the cook, as I should have, your violation wouldn't have been a violation!"
It's bordering on a real argument, and Lewis backs away from it.
"Look, James. You made a mistake. Let go of it." He lowers his voice. "You hold on too long to something that's over and gone and you find you have no spare hands for pullin' yourself forward." Lewis realizes he isn't talking only about Hathaway.
"I almost killed us both!"
Lewis keeps his voice soft. "Yeah, but you didn't. Whether that's by luck, pluck, or Divine intervention, I don't know. But we've been given a gift, and the chance to learn from it. And I don't mean just learning how important proper procedure is. Now, maybe you haven't learned anything else. But I've had a good lesson in what's really important to me. In fact, I'd say I've passed me A-levels in What's Really Important to Me."
He has Hathaway's full attention now, but he stops talking, the whirl of his own thoughts taking him far from the room.
"Sir? What is that?"
"What?" Lewis blinks.
Hathaway pauses. "Never mind. I think I know the answer anyway."
The two are silent for a while.
Turning so he can really see his sergeant, Lewis asks him in a gentle voice:
"Do you remember anything at all? I mean, I think I remember stuff but some of it couldn't have happened. Like, I remember hearing jingling, and our Val coming and talking to us."
"I remember being on fire."
Lewis snorts. "Bloody hell." He smiles wryly at the irony of that. "Your punishment for teasing me about thermo-whatsit."
"Thermoregulation, Sir." Hathaway is studying his boss. "What did Val have to say?"
"She asked me to come with her. But I . . . I didn't want to."
"'Cos of Hobson?"
Lewis is silent, and James fears he has overstepped his boundaries once again. "Sorry, Sir, that just slipped out."
Lewis breathes a quiet laugh. "Y'know, one thing I seem to remember is Laura offering to warm me up by wrapping herself in a blanket with me. Naked." He looks up at James with a crooked smile of disbelief.
"Lucky you."
"Naw, she wouldn't have done. It didn't happen, any more than your fire happened."
"Why not? That's one of the best ways to warm someone who's suffering from hypothermia."
Lewis shakes his head. "Nah."
"Think about it, Sir. She and Innocent were the ones who found us, so she was there. If someone said, 'If you do this, it will help him recover,' she wouldn't hesitate. You know she would do it."
A pleased smile tickles its way across the older man's lips. Then his eyes open a bit wider. "So d'you think that means Innocent would have . . . ?" He ends the question with a nod toward James.
"That is a very interesting question."