Act II: Discovered

Several hours later, Arthur woke up with a jolt to crying.

Wait, there's an actual, living, breathing baby in Wellington Wells?! So it wasn't just a fever dream. And that means...oh, no, I've got to be responsible for her now, don't I?

Sitting up, he looked over at the crib. Thankfully, it had not grown two sets of legs overnight and was waiting for him, crying baby and all. Pulling himself out of the bed, he walked over to the crib, looking down at the red-haired baby. Her cries quieted upon seeing him, and he smiled at her.

"Don't worry, darling," he cooed, reaching down and softly stroking her tuft of hair. "Mummy left some nice tins of milk for you downstairs. My, you feel warm, don't you?"

Smile faltering at the unexpected heat, he waved to the baby before starting towards the door. Taking several steps down the spiral staircase, he could suddenly see a helmet with a pair of goggles on it moving up towards him, and then Sally.

Sally was there, on the stairs, and was now staring up at him, looking about as startled as he felt. Arthur noticed the bottle she held in her hand, the distinct shadows under her eyes, and the general look of someone who's been given the world's responsibilities without any reprieve.

He wasn't sure what she saw.

After another moment, Arthur broke the silence by asking (stating, really), "So. Err. Your baby, then?"

Sally blushed lightly and frowned off to the side, nodding and saying, "Yes. Did you, ah. What were you doing here last night?" It was less of a question and more of a demand.

Arthur coughed, taking his turn to admire a distant poster of Sally herself looking rather plump in a round dress. Blushing vividly now, he glanced back to the real Sally, ah, yes, still there, and replied, "I, well. I made sure she had company last night?"

Sally straightened, and the baby's crying seemed to get a bit louder.

"Yes, well, I really need to be feeding her before her bottle gets cold."

"Ah, right, right..."

In an awkwardly tight tango, Sally squeezed up past Arthur on the stairs, which mainly involved Arthur attempting to turn knobby, lanky elbows and knees into smooth architecture and instead making an obstacle course with grievously sharp edges, which many a drill instructor would say is far too dangerous to run. Sally, attempting to dodge and timing it poorly, took an elbow to the forehead, to which she was forced to meet Arthur's repeated "sorrys" and flailing with a gritted "It's fine". The worst was when they had to rub just a bit too uncomfortably close, as Arthur descended and Sally ascended, and they met each other's eyes. Mutually, their faces turned into varying shades of tomato.

The ceremony complete, they untangled from each other and Sally practically sprinted upstairs, bottle in hand. Attempting to rub the marinara from his face, Arthur moved towards the kitchen, fretting and frowning and chewing at the situation. As well as a half-eaten piece of bread he pulled from a pocket.

What have I done? What has she done?! Oh, well, she's certainly done plenty to have a baby, you idiot. Thinking she would have waited for you after what happened...fuck, you're a fool aren't you, Arthur? But a baby...her baby. God, if she hadn't reminded me of Percy, I would've...I would've fled. Coward. Sally's so brave, keeping a baby, her baby, in this godforsaken place. Surely she remembers the breeder riots? What would they do to her, to her baby, if they found out? Nothing good, I imagine.

Scrubbing at his eyes and wiping off any lingering crumbs, Arthur paced around to the front of the red couch, sitting down and nervously tapping as he waited.

I suppose I did want to find Sally anyways. Great job breaking into her house, Arthur. Didn't she mention a Downer getting in earlier this week? Though I suppose a Downer did get in last night…heh. That does explain the mess the kitchen is in, at least. I wonder if they found...if they found out about-

"Arthur?"

Arthur jolted, standing up and whirling around to face Sally. She held his gaze for a second before looking away. They stood in silence before she exhaled sharply through her nose and looked back at him.

"Did Gwen feel warm to you, last night? Or this morning, I suppose."

Gwen? Good to know her name, at least.

Arthur thought back to about an hour ago and the night before. Rubbing the back of his neck, he replied, "I suppose she did feel warm, yes. Isn't it normal for babies to be a bit warmer than adults?"

Sally shook her head, crossing her arms and turning away from him. He could see her shoulders tense for a moment before she elaborated, "It's not normal, nor are the spots dotting her face, now."

"Spots dotting her face?" Arthur moved from in front of the couch, going to stand a few paces behind her. "Sal, that's, that's not measles, is it? Oh, God."

Sally gave a small laugh, one that sounded highly similar to a strangled sob to Arthur's ears. He tried to ignore the knot in his throat as she explained, "Yes, it's fucking measles. Gwen's got measles, and-" her voice caught, for a moment, before she rushed on, "And babies can die from it, without treatment."

Arthur sagged forwards, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Looking over at Sally, he could see her trembling slightly. Frowning at that, he moved closer and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. Taking a breath, she turned around and looked up at him.

"Sal," he said softly, "if I can do something to help," he thought for a moment, and continued, "hopefully something not too dangerous, I will. For her."

Sally laughed again, softer this time, and embraced him. Arthur froze for a moment before returning the gesture. Warm comfort emanated from them, with Sally pressed into his chest, her breathing mellowing. Arthur could feel himself relaxing in her arms, fully realizing how much he'd missed her, how he'd felt her absence like a hole in his heart, how much he-

After another shared heartbeat, Sally pulled away. Arthur lingered for a moment, almost wishing to pull her back, but let his arms flop lazily to his sides instead.

Sally beamed up at him, and said, "One of the remedies in the book says that cod liver oil helps with fighting off measles. It has to do with vitamin A, in the system."

"Cod liver oil? Oh, like what your mum used to torment you with," Arthur trailed off, perturbed.

Sally nodded, going over to a drawer and pulling out what looked to be little rocket ships.

"Yes, terribly ironic, isn't it? My mum tormented me with it, and here I am trying to get it to save-" she paused, and then continued, quietly, "-to save my daughter's life."

Arthur nodded, and went to stand beside her.

"We'll save her, Sal, I know it. Though," he raised an eyebrow, "you wouldn't happen to know where cod liver oil would be in this damned place, would you?"

Sally's smile turned into a faint grimace, and she crossed her arms before replying, "It's in Dr. Verloc's lab. He keeps a variety of old knickknacks and things. If you could get it from him, Gwen would really appreciate it."

Arthur felt a twinge of jealousy, and couldn't help biting out, "Is Verloc another one of your friends? Like the General?"

Sally flinched at that, and said steadily, "Not anymore. You don't stay friends with someone who locks you out in the rain to 'teach you a lesson'. I wouldn't want him knowing about Gwen, either."

Not wanting Verloc in particular knowing about her? Why specifically him - oh.

Sally reached forward and grabbed his hand, slipping what he assumed were the rocket ships he'd seen her pick up earlier into it.

"It might take you a while to get into the building, but these should help. It's called sunshine, and it makes you look like you're on Joy with none of the side effects. And, Arthur?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you. Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

Arthur thought about this for a moment, and the faint squeal of train tracks and the cries of his brother echoed in his memory.

"Well, about that Letter of Transit...Sally, I still need to find my brother. Percy...he's out there, and I have to help him."

"Oh," she let go of his hand and pulled away, and he successfully resisted the urge to go to her.

"Yes," she continued, "I can get that from the General. He'll probably happily give me one, if I ask."

Arthur frowned, and gave a nod before saying briskly, "I'd best be off, then. Gwen's not getting any better without that cod liver oil."

As he moved towards the door, Sally softly called out, "Arthur? Please, be careful out there."

Hand on the doorknob, he nodded.

"You too, Sally."