München, October 27, 2018
I don't know how to live through this hell
Woken up, I'm still locked in this shell
Frozen soul, frozen down to the core
Break the ice, I can't take anymore
Freezing
Can't move at all
Screaming
Can't hear my call
I am dying to live
Cry out
I'm trapped under ice
James was woken by a nurse bustling about, adjusting Sirius's drop and writing something on his chart.
"How is he?" James said, struggling to his feet and dusting off his backside.
"Entschuldigung, ich spreche kein Englisch." The nurse smiled apologetically. "Der Arzt wird gleich hier sein."
These fuckin' Germans…. James groaned in frustration and turned his attention to Sirius. The tube in his throat had been removed, and he was breathing on his own, although it seemed laboured. He looked like shite. Covered in sweat and hair hanging limb and lustreless around his face. James reached out to brush it off his skin. He was burning up.
"Bitte schön," the nurse said behind him, and he turned around to see her holding out a wet cloth to him. She nodded and indicated for him to take it. It was ice cold. Grateful, he turned back to Sirius and draped it across his brow.
"Guten Tag," a man said, entering the room. "I am Dr Meltzer," he said, walking over to James and extending his hand.
"James Potter. Where's Dr Meyer?"
The new doctor chuckled. "It is midday—he has gone home to sleep."
Right. James couldn't keep track any more.
"We have stopped the sedative now. He is still receiving naloxone, but we are decreasing the dose. He should be able to wake up soon."
"What state will he be in?"
"We can't know for sure, but his scans look good. We will have to run more tests when he regains consciousness, and we will have to monitor his temperature, of course. EEG's look normal, and his oxygen levels are stable, but we should expect severe withdrawal symptoms. We can assist medically, but he is in for a rough couple of days, I'm afraid."
The first thing Sirius registered was pain. An excruciating amount of it, in fact. Blood rushed and thumped in his ears, and his whole body felt like it was on fire. Except his hand, from which something cool trickled up his arm. And his forehead. Something cold and wet was moving across it. He squinted. Sounds floated around him, but he couldn't identify anything; it was like he was under several feet of water. He tried to lift his head but found that he couldn't. A fresh wave of pain washed over him, and he grunted. The voices—yes, they were definitely voices—grew louder and something touched his hand. He tried to yank it away, but his body still wouldn't obey. His mouth felt incredibly dry, and he couldn't swallow. So, he resigned himself to just breathe for the time being.
Air in, air out, repeat.
Slowly, the rushing sound dissipated, and he could hear his surroundings better. A beeping sound. Hushed voices. He tried to open his eyes and managed a sliver, but all he saw was blindingly bright light, so he quickly shut them again.
"…Sirius, can you hear me…."
He knew that voice. He couldn't place it though. In fact, he couldn't place himself. His back ached terribly, but he supposed he was lying on something soft. Twitching his fingers, he could feel rough linen under his right hand and something warm and firm in his left. Fingers. Not his own. Someone was holding his hand.
"Sirius, mate, are you with us?"
With immense effort, he opened his eyes again and blinked rapidly against the invasive light. His vision was blurry at first, but he could make out some silhouettes standing over him as well as the general layout of a white, non-descript room. The beeping noises thankfully stopped.
He tried to focus on the silhouettes. One was standing by his feet, another on his right, both dressed in white. But on his left, a tall figure was perched beside him, holding his hand. Sirius blinked. A familiar mess of black hair framed a frowning brow and anxious, hazel eyes.
"There he is…!" James's face lit up, and Sirius felt his hand being squeezed.
The effort of keeping his eyes open proved to be too much, and his lids fell shut again.
"Sirius, darling, stay with us…" a female voice said. The higher pitch hurt his ears.
Then his right eyelid was being yanked open, and a sharp light was being shone directly into his pupil. He jerked his head to the side, sending a fresh wave of pain through his body.
"Gut, gut," someone mumbled, and he turned his head to find the perpetrator. "Mr Black. Do you know where you are?" the man in white said. A doctor? Yes, there was a stethoscope around his neck.
Sirius tried to speak, but no sound would come from his parched mouth.
"Wasser, bitte, Fräulein Sudine." The doctor gestured to the nurse, who stuck a soaked sponge into Sirius's mouth. He coughed and sputtered which caused even more pain, but it relieved the sandy feeling in his mouth and throat.
"Do you know where you are?" the doctor asked again.
"Hospital…" he mumbled, his voice hoarse and grainy. He turned his head to the left. "Prongs…."
"Yes, that's right!" James said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "How are you feeling, mate?"
"Like… train wreck…." He shut his eyes again and exhaled sharply as a spike of pain shot through his temple.
"Babe, we've been so worried about you," the female voice said again, and a smaller hand replaced James's in his own. He forced his eyes open. What was Gwen doing here? He just stared at her as his mind struggled to remember where he had been.
"It's Gwen," James prompted. "She flew over to see you."
"I know who you are," Sirius said and closed his eyes again.
"We need to perform some tests, Mr Black, if you are feeling up to it," the doctor said.
"Can't it wait?" James said.
"I am afraid not. We need to act quickly so we can make adjustments if necessary. If you would please wait outside, Mr Potter, Miss Jones…."
"Will you be alright, luv?" Gwen asked.
"Come on, Gwen, let's give him some space," James said when Sirius didn't answer. Her hand was pulled away from his, and he exhaled.
For the next eternity and a half, Sirius found himself being prodded and poked and asked stupid questions, such as 'What year is it?' or 'Can you list the days of the week in reverse order?'. Electrodes were attached to his head, and he was told to look at cringey stock photos and describe what he saw. The doctor shone more lights in his eyes, which made him throw up over the side of the bed, though he had nothing but bile in his stomach. It annoyed him to no end, the way the doctor and nurse kept speaking German to each other—perhaps attempting to spare his feelings or something—but they realised their mistake after he shot them a string of German expletives when the nurse tried to stick a thermometer in his arse.
"I think we can safely say that your Broca's area is unaffected, Mr Black." The doctor chuckled. "We will let you get some rest now, and we will repeat the tests tomorrow."
"Freue mich schon drauf…" Sirius said and slipped back into sweet oblivion.
A/N: This was the last of the München chapters. I will include a few more flashback chapters later on but they will not be nearly as frequent. Next chapter is called "The Hotel", it's gonna be long and a lot happier to make up for this depressing hospital nightmare ;) Stay tuned, and as always: I'd love to know your thoughts!
Lyric credits:
Metallica - Trapped under ice
German translations:
Entschuldigung, ich spreche kein Englisch. Der Arzt wird gleich hier sein: Sorry, I don't speak English. The doctor will be here shortly
Bitte schön: can mean several thing but in this case it's, "Here you go."
Guten Tag: Hello (lit. "Good day")
Gut, gut: Good, good
Wasser, bitte, Fräulein Sudine: Water, please, Miss Sudine
Freue mich schon drauf: Already looking forward to it
