AN: sorry for the multiple uploads; I had to fix the German bits!

FÜNFUNDZWANZIG

Am Kamin

Hermann hardly had enough time to chew and swallow each bite of what he was eating before someone lobbed a new question his way about the day's developments. The rain had started to come down even harder than when he was leaving the Outlands, and a strong breeze was blowing up, making the air seem even wetter and colder than it already was. Markos had already built a fire to give Hermann some much-needed light to work by, as well as to cook the evening's meal (even a few of the lions had taken a liking to grilled meat, something they had never tasted before being introduced to human cuisine), but even though both of these tasks had already been accomplished, he decided to keep it burning for at least a few hour longer, even brighter and hotter than before. He had good reason to do so, which was not lost on anyone enjoying the fire's light and heat: as the storm swooped in, it had quickly turned a hot African summer day into a late autumn night somewhere in the Swiss Alps.

Hermann thought that perhaps he and his friends were trapped inside by the same storm from after his fight with the six hyenas, but he quickly excluded this possibility, remembering that there had been no wind in the earlier storm. The clouds currently over his head, however, were unleashing as much wind as they were rain. He had seen similar weather many times in the past, when a thunderstorm or two barreled its way through Stuttgart, but even the German skies' worst couldn't compare with this. Still, despite the fury of the storm outside, Hermann Wolfgang Sterlitz, MD was rather peacefully isolated from the surrounding chaos, along with the five others—Simba, Nala, Kopa, Vitani, and Markos, who was looking around in vain for any leftover liquor—he had begun to consider his extended family. Smoke from the fire in front of him slowly trickled upward through a crack in the roof, an opening just large enough to let the smoke out while keeping any water and wind from entering, while the flames coated the walls and everyone within them—four lions and two humans, all lying on the two mattresses around the fire and covered up in blankets—in a warm orange glow.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Simba said, eyeing Hermann's sweater, "what do those words mean?"

"These words?" Hermann said. "Universität Stuttgart…that was where Markos and I attended university." Simba gave him an understandably confused look. "It's where we became doctors," Hermann rephrased.

"Do you have a mate back home, Hermann?" Kopa asked. "Do humans have those?"

Hermann laughed. "Sort of, but we don't call them that. And yes, I have a girlfriend. Her name's Anezka; she's Czech."

"She checks what?"

"No, Czech, C-Z-E-C-H. Her country is the Czech Republic." A huge bolt of lightning suddenly flashed from outside, briefly filling the entire room with a white-hot magnesium light. "Whoa! Did you see that?" As was usual for him when surprised or caught off guard, Hermann's exclamation was in his native tongue.

"Yeah, of course I saw it!" Kopa answered, no differently than if Hermann had been speaking to him in English.

"You understood me, did you? And can you say what you just said in German as well?" I've stumped the kid this time, Hermann thought, only to be proven wrong seconds later:

"Ja, Hermann. Natürlich, ich hab es gesehen."

"That's just incredible; I've never seen anyone catch on so quickly." Hermann looked over at Simba as he ruffled the hair on top of Kopa's head. "You've got a smart one here, mein Herr. I can definitely see where he gets it from!"

"Don't, you're embarrassing me!" Simba replied. "Hmm…looks like Vitani has either turned in for the night, or she wasn't too appreciative of that lightning bolt just now." Hermann looked to his right and saw a cub-shaped lump under a blanket, in the exact same place where only moments ago, Vitani had been lying down next to Nala. Kopa didn't even try to resist the urge to tease his friend:

"Tani's afraid of liiiight-niiiing…"

"I am not, Kopa!" shot back a slightly muted voice from underneath the quilt. "I was just, uh, looking for something under here."

"Like your dignity?"

"Mom, make him stop!"

"Kopa, be nice," Nala said. "Everyone's afraid of something…you included."

"Nah, nothing scares me anymore!"

"Oh really?" Nala asked with a smile. "Then why is it that whenever Hermann switches out the bandages on your side, you can't bring yourself to look at what's underneath, even though we've both told you it doesn't look so bad anymore?"

Kopa could tell his mother's question was meant in kind. "Uh…because every time he does it, I get some dust in my eyes and I have to close them."

"You get dust in both of them? At once?"

"OK, alright!" Kopa conceded. "I know it doesn't hurt any more, but I still don't want to look at it!"

"Good idea," Vitani said, still covered up in anticipation of the next lightning bolt. "It still looks like you sat on a land mine back there."

"Mom!"

"Enough, you two! Vitani, behave yourself, and Kopa, don't you go making fun of her to begin with. Both of you, apologize to each other."

"Sorry, Vitani."

"Me too," Vitani said as she poked her head back out. "I didn't mean it."

"I know," Kopa replied. "Hermann, what did you say Markos is so afraid of? You said he can't even think about it without feeling sick."

"That would be beer shortages," Hermann said. "We've never had one in half a millennium of German history, of course, but that's still his version of the end of the apocalypse; it must have been that documentary on American prohibition that did him in. I'll even prove it to you…watch this. Markos, they've run out of beer in Bavaria. I heard it over the radio as I was driving back."

Markos gasped out loud in shock, actually looking like he was going to pass out, but then he remembered one essential fact: "Wait a second…that car doesn't have a radio."

"No. It doesn't."

"…Go to hell, Sterlitz."

"Kopa, don't repeat that."

"Sorry, Hermann, I've already heard you say it at least twice."

Another flash of lightning flickered outside, followed by a strong gust of wind. Hermann could have sworn that he felt the cave swaying back and forth. "Do you get weather like this often?" he asked Simba. "The last time I was in a storm like this, it was snowing, not raining, and we were on a mountain somewhere in Switzerland."

"We get storms, but only a few that are this big," Simba replied. "What were you doing in Switzerland?"

"We were on a skiing trip there; it's the one sport I can still do with my bad leg. The day we were supposed to go back to Stuttgart, a blizzard came through and shuttered the airport; there was so much snow, we couldn't even get out of our hotel rooms; the streets were all closed off. Until they cleared the roads, we got stuck inside with no power and no heat, but luckily, we had a fireplace and more than enough wood to keep the room heated. Truth be told, it wasn't nearly as bad as it sounds: we were all bundled up in the dark around that fire just like we are now, sitting there drinking and singing, telling jokes and old stories. We were almost disappointed when we actually had to leave the next morning…there was a kind of camaraderie between all of us that you just don't see every day. And I'm no psychologist, but I think the fire had something to do with it. There's something about sitting by one that makes the human mind feel at home, even if it's hundreds of miles away."

"How about one of those stories, then? In fact, I'd rather like to hear one from your friend over there, he's probably got some interesting tales to tell."

"You mean Markos? Ach, be careful what you wish for…but if you insist, I'll translate. Markos, the boss wants you to tell everyone a story. Why don't you tell them what happened that night in the Netherlands?" It was a story Hermann could have told from memory, a rather harmless yet amusing mix-up during a professional summit at which Markos picked up the wrong room key after a nighttime dip in the hotel pool, walked half-naked and dripping wet into an already-occupied suite, and had to spend the next forty minutes convincing a distraught Belgian family and four members of the Amsterdam Police Department that he wasn't some sort of stalker. Unbeknownst to Hermann, however, this trip had not been Markos's only excursion to Holland, and it most definitely was not the trip Markos was thinking of when Hermann mentioned the "night in the Netherlands".

"Are you sure you want me to tell that story?" he said. "I'm not sure this is the right place for it."

"Why not? It's a great story, they'll love it! Go ahead, I'll translate."

"OK, if that's really the one you really want to hear. So a few years ago, a few colleagues and I took a trip to Amsterdam."

"He and some friends from the hospital took a trip together to Amsterdam…"

"The first night we got there, we went straight to the bar and got raving drunk."

I don't remember that being part of the story, Hermann thought, but he translated anyway: "They all went to the bar the first night and had a lot to drink."

"And…well…we got so drunk, we decided to ring a call girl service."

Hermann stared and gaped for a few seconds, not believing what he had just heard. "And…they all woke up the next morning with horrible hangovers. The end."

"That was…interesting," Simba said, knowing that there was something deliberately lost in the translation. "Well, gentlemen, it's been a most enjoyable evening, but I know someone"—he looked over at Kopa—"who needs to be getting to sleep. Kopa…bedtime; that goes for you too, Vitani."

"Aw, come on, dad, I'm not that tired." Kopa's attempt to hide the yawn that cropped up midway through was completely useless.

"Sorry, until you're completely better, you're going to bed early."

"I'll make you a promise," Hermann said to Kopa. "Do as your father says, and we can all do this again tomorrow night—I'd quite forgotten just how much I enjoy this kind of thing. Deal?"

"OK, OK, deal." Kopa got up and trotted over to a spot between his parents, crawled under a blanket so that only his head stuck out one end, and was asleep in minutes. Simba, Vitani, and Markos quickly followed suit, the last of the three snoring with enough force to bring down the walls as soon as he closed his eyes. When Hermann got up to put a few final logs on the fire, he saw that Nala was looking at her son asleep at her side, and that she seemed to have tears in her eyes. Hermann couldn't figure out why. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Do you know what it's like to almost lose your own son?" she replied.

"Not my own son, no, but I've had one or two children in the hospital who barely pulled through. I can only imagine how it feels to be the parent in a situation like that; it's hard enough just being the doctor."

"Well, I hope you never have to know what it's like," Nala said. "Sometimes, I get to thinking of what else could have happened to him that night if you and Markos hadn't come along, about how helpless and scared I felt, and I can't help but get upset—you understand, I'm sure. But then, I always remember that what we were all fearing might happen, never did happen in the end. My little Kopa survived…he lived." Nala's expression shifted from worry to happiness. "And I think we all know who we have to thank for that."

"I just did my job, nothing more and nothing less," Hermann replied, ever humble and professional. "It's what I promised to do when they handed me my degree. Everyone else in that room took the same oath to do the same thing."

"And did that oath include anything about protecting your patients' families as well as your patients? Did you promise to put yourself in horrible danger for their sakes?"

"Well…no. It didn't say anything to that effect."

"And the music lessons? Did you swear to use everything you know about singing to help your patients get well again?"

"No, nothing like that either."

"I didn't think so…you never swore to do any of that. And still, you laughed with Kopa when he laughed, sang to him when he hurt, and reassured him when he was afraid. Look around, Hermann Wolfgang Sterlitz. Take some credit for once: someone who's 'just doing their job' doesn't do that much or go that far. That person would have left for Germany a long time ago; he might have even ignored our cries for help entirely, but you didn't do any of those things. Because that's just not you."

Nala saw that Hermann was still trying to act as if he hadn't done much of anything for anyone.

"You two treated Kopa like he was one of your own, as if he were your son as much as he is mine," she added. "It was in you from the beginning; you don't need to swear an oath or take a pledge to make it true. And I'll never, ever forget or stop being grateful for that fact, not until the day I die."

"I suppose you're right…it's just that Friedrich told me time and again to never let anything go too much to my head; that's the reason why I've always been that way. I don't want it to distract me from what's most important here. Look at him, he looks so peaceful, so content…"

"I wonder what he's dreaming about," Nala whispered as she gently pulled Kopa in just a bit closer. "Maybe you're giving him a singing lesson."

"Who knows, but I'm sure it's a happy dream. And speaking of which, I think I'll turn in for the night. Thank you as always for the food; we'd still be eating stolen potato chips without it!"

"Hermann, before you go to bed…Simba and I have been talking, and we think it's time we made it official."

"You think it's time you made what official?"

"Your induction. You and Markos are going to become members of our pride."

"Us? Wow, I…I don't know what to say, except that I'm incredibly honored. What is it we're to do?"

"There will be a ceremony before you leave; we'll fill you in on the particulars later."

"When is this ceremony supposed to happen; is there anything special you need from us?"

"As I believe you've said before, all good things to those who wait."