Ch. 5— Eyes Wide Open

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It had been three and a half months since Mr. D'Anton had left.

A few minutes after he had made his phone call, a limousine had pulled up to the main entrance of the hospital, and limping, Mr. D'Anton 'walked' out of the hospital unassisted without even the aid of a cane.

Even now, it hurt for Christine to remember how he had stumbled, almost falling down the two small steps at the bottom of the entrance because he didn't know they were there. Because no one had told him.

Because he refused anyone's help.

The doorman and Mr. D'Anton's valet quickly rushed to his aid, but he shrugged them both aside, and with his scarred head held high, he ducked into the limousine and was driven away.

But he had remained in Christine's thoughts ever since.

She was too timid to inquire from Dr. Khan or Nurse Tomlin about his condition, but every day she thought about him… and every day, she missed him. Missed the way he used to talk at and tease her… that was up until the last couple of days of his hospitalization.

Christine still didn't know what to make of the strange encounter in his room that led to her pushing his wheelchair down the hall towards the phone. She barely remembered it at all, only that she was compelled to comply with his wishes even though they went against what both Nurse Tomlin and Dr. Khan had ordered.

And they also went against common sense.

She stood outside the door to Dr. Khan's office waiting to be let in.

Both he and Nurse Tomlin wanted to talk to her about something important, important enough to pull her off rotation when they were already so short-staffed— a buzzing noise sounded, and Christine jolted, coming to attention.

Dr. Khan's secretary nodded towards the door. "Christine, they're ready for you now."

Making sure her appearance was neat and her seams tidy, Christine opened the door.

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"Ms. Daae, please have a seat." Rising from his chair behind the desk, the older, dark-skinned physician smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "May I get you a coffee? Tea, my dear?"

"N-no. No thank you, sir."

Christine looked over at Nurse Tomlin; she wore a disapproving expression as she stared straight ahead, her hands balled tightly into fists at her lap.

The doctor nodded. "Well, since you are here, I'm just going to get straight to the point, shall I?"

Intrigued, Christine focused on Dr. Khan's words.

"A mutual acquaintance of ours is in dire need of your assistance, Ms. Daae." Christine looked at him curiously, and he nodded. "Yes, indeed. There is no doubt you remember a certain recalcitrant patient by the name of Erik D'Anton?"

She gulped, her eyes going wide and Dr. Khan nodded. "Yes, it seems you do remember," he said wryly. "Mr. D'Anton left the hospital under every advisable precaution against it and has been these three months slowly in decline."

Her heart plummeted. What did that mean? Was he regressing? Had he developed an infection?

Christine heard a snort come from Nurse Tomlin.

She looked over to find the nurse shaking her head. Dr. Khan shot Nurse Tomlin a quelling look, continuing, "As I was saying, his health has taken a turn for the worse, and I'm afraid without intervention, Erik will do himself grievous harm."

"Wh-what can I do…? I mean I'm not a doctor, or even a real nurse … I—"

"Ms. Daae, it seems you would be the perfect fit for what my godson needs."

Christine's eyes went wide. "Godson?"

"Yes." Dr. Khan nodded. "His mother was my wife's dear friend for thirty plus years before she died. And the day he was born, Erik was christened our godson. And I have been watching out for that boy ever since."

"But…"

"As I was saying," he interrupted her, holding up a forestalling hand, "you seem to be the perfect fit. And from what Nurse Tomlin says, the both of you got along tolerably well throughout his stay in the hospital," he raised his eyebrows, "which speaks volumes in and of itself, my dear. You are single, unattached, have no family that would object to your moving to Le Havre."

"Oh, this is preposterous, Khan!" Nurse Tomlin interjected. "You cannot propose to send the girl halfway across the country to Le Havre of all places."

"That's where he has chosen to live for the time being, and so, that is where the girl must go," the Persian doctor stated archly. "That is if you decide to go, Ms. Daae, and I want you to think about it carefully—very carefully, my dear. Caring for my godson will be a full-time, twenty-four hour, seven days a week position. He is stubborn. He is proud. He has yet to accept the hand fate has dealt him. You will have to be strong, Ms. Daae, strong and capable."

Christine gulped, her hands starting to shake.

The doctor continued, "I've observed you for quite some time, spoken with Nurse Tomlin, some of the hospital staff and even a few of the patients under your care." He gave her a level look. "You work hard. You are kind, caring, and very competent in your treatment of those patients you are assigned. You should know you will always have a position here with us should you wish it, Ms. Daae, but I will be honest, your skills and kind heart are needed elsewhere. And here at this state-funded hospital, we cannot pay you what your time and caring attention are truly worth."

He smiled reluctantly, and picking up a pad and pencil, the doctor wrote something on it. Tearing off the perforated sheet and folding it, he slid the note over to her.

Curious, Christine unfolded the piece of paper and looked at what he had written; she gasped, her eyes going wide in shock.

The doctor nodded, studying her seriously. "That is what I'm willing to pay, Ms. Daae. The man I'm asking you to treat is going to treat you with anything but kindness. Being nursemaid to my godson is going to be a challenge the likes of which you've never encountered. It's going to take staying power, Ms. Daae, perseverance, and the ability to let the things he says go in one ear and out the other. Can you do this, Ms. Daae? Can you be that strong for him?"

Christine shook her head. "I don't—that is to say, I don't think—"

"The girl is not capable of that by her own admission, Dr. Khan. That last day, he was ordering her about, pushing her around, had her even pushing me around. We would have more luck with a male, as I've said before, and I'll say it again."

"Erik would not react well to another ma—"

"I-I'll do it!" Christine clapped a hand over her mouth as if to take the words back.

This didn't escape Dr. Khan's attention, and he raised a solitary eyebrow. "Are you certain, mademoiselle? You still look unsure."

"I—" She lowered her hands.

"Christine," Nurse Tomlin broke in turning in her seat and giving her a sharp-eyed look. "I strongly urge you to reconsider! The man is an absolute beast, and he will flay you alive with that sharp tongue and wicked wit of his. You're no match for him, dear. No match at all, and I'm afraid that this is going to end for you in regret and tears."

Pursing her lips, Christine nodded, her mind suddenly made up.

She turned back to face the doctor and drawing a steadying breath, replied, "I'll do it, Dr. Khan. I'll go to him."

The relief that filled the older physician's face was palpable. Reaching across his desk, he took her hands in his. "Thank you! Thank you, my child! You can't realize what a blessing this truly is."

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Everything seemed to happen quickly after that.

Darius, Dr. Khan's son, had agreed to make the journey with her up to Le Havre and see her situated in the small cottage that she was to call home for the foreseeable future.

Dr. Khan had given her a copy of Mr. D'Anton's case notes as well as strict instructions for his care. She was to be his full-time, live-in nurse and house-keeper: cooking his meals, cleaning the cottage, and administering his treatment and care.

She had been given money and a train ticket, and the instructions to meet Darius at the station where they would begin their journey to Le Havre.

As she stood on the crowded platform waiting for Darius to arrive, Christine thought back on all she was leaving behind… which admittedly wasn't much.

It seemed Dr. Khan had been correct in his assessment of her situation. As far as being unattached, she was practically expendable.

The thought made her frown.

The room she was letting at a boarding house near the hospital had been leased to another the moment she had notified the proprietress she was moving. So, even if she wanted to change her mind, she couldn't… not and stay at the same place where she'd been.

The hospital was loathed to see her go, Nurse Tomlin especially. However, Christine had begun training a replacement to take over the care of her patients the very day she'd agreed to go along with this madcap scheme.

Over the months she had been working there, she'd tried hard, really she had, to befriend her coworkers and have them see her as a fixture in the place: dependable, reliable, and friendly. But as hard as she tried, no one ever seemed to want to talk with her.

They all of them kept their distance, and Christine had endeavored not to let it discourage her. After all, she'd endured a lifetime of such treatment, such isolation.

And really, she should be used to it by now.

"Pardon me ladies and gentlemen, is there a Christine Daae here? I'm looking for Christine Daae."

"Here!" She flagged the gentleman yelling for her down. "…I'm here."

A train porter in his bellboy cap and kelly-green jacket came up to her. "Are you Christine Daae that's waiting for Darius Khan to arrive?"

She nodded, suddenly anxious.

"The office just received a telegram, ma'am." He pulled out a piece of thin stationary from his breast pocket and passed it to her. With a tip of his hat, the porter was gone, already moving to assist another passenger.

Opening the telegram, she read:

Christine Daae

Paris Railway Station, Platform Seven

Mlle Daae :stop: I cannot accompany you :stop: Wife having child premature :stop: Please go on ahead as planned :stop: Instructions upon arrival in Le Havre

Darius Khan

Christine gulped. Darius wasn't coming to Le Havre with her. And good grief, his wife was in labor!

Which meant she was going to have to face him alone!

The train whistle blew startling her, and she heard the conductor yell, "Last Call! All aboard! last Call!"

She looked down at the train ticket in her hand and then at the telegram. Well, this was really it. If she was going, then she was going alone, and she would have to convince him he needed her help... by herself.

From what she had gathered from Dr. Khan, he was going to be firmly set against the idea.

Well, at least she was going into this eyes wide open…which was more than she could say for her charge.

Taking a deep breath, she boarded the train, never once looking back.

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Digging through her valise, Christine brought out the case notes on Mr. D'Anton and began reading through them again as the train started to move. Both Dr. Kahn and Nurse Tomlin had left detailed instructions regarding Mr. D'Anton's treatment and care; also giving advice concerning what she could expect in her patient's conduct towards her.

Apparently, his courteous behavior with her had been highly unusual.

He was known for cursing the staff furiously, throwing things, making unreasonable demands. And in one instance, he almost broke an orderly's hand when the man had accidentally bumped his injured foot against the metal footboard of his bed while wheeling him to x-ray.

She knew of his patient history already. Other than a brief bout of chickenpox when he was a child, Mr. D'Anton had led a remarkably charmed life where his health was concerned up until he was so grievously wounded. As a child into adulthood, he'd had no broken bones, no major or minor illnesses, not even a cavity!

The man's immune system was a marvel, and Christine envied him that. It always seemed she was coming down with the sniffles or a sore throat at the drop of a hat. But then, of course, her chosen profession definitely impeded matters.

She read over the note concerning his blindness, and looking to the upper right-hand corner, she saw a scribbled notation she hadn't noticed before. She had to squint to read the words 'Could be psychosomatic.'

Christine bit her lip, unfamiliar with the term 'psychosomatic'. She'd have to look it up or look it up or ask Dr. Khan what it meant at the first available opportunity.

She continued to read over his case history since he was admitted, but the more she did so, the more intimidated she became. Nurse Tomlin's notes were the worst, full of warnings telling her what not to do, how not to behave, how to approach the topics of food, medication, bathing even.

In exasperation, Christine put the case notes away and stared out the window into the gathering dusk as the countryside passed steadily by.

Unbidden, her thoughts circled back to her father.

Her father and she had gone to Perros for his confinement on the advice from the attending physician he saw in Stockholm. He had wanted Papa to take in the sea air as he said it would be better for Papa's health to be in a more moderate clime.

While in Perros, Christine had devoted herself towards seeing to her father's care and comfort. He had been a very recalcitrant patient, especially towards the end, and well Christine knew how to handle verbal bullying.

And too, up to a certain amount, physical abuse.

Towards the end, her father began to lash out at her, and sometimes not only with his words. He was in so much pain as his body slowly began cannibalizing itself, and there was nothing Christine could do except administer the medicine as prescribed and try and keep him as comfortable and distracted from the pain as much as possible.

Christine took a deep breath, calming her thoughts and the memories that wanted to surface from those dark days. That was all in the past.

She tried not to hold it against him—the things her Papa had said and done under the influence of such pain in his final days—but it was hard to reconcile the father she had known with the wasted, mean-spirited creature he had become. In a way, she almost had to look at him as two different people: one before the pain and one after in order to reconcile it in her mind.

Perhaps that's what she needed to do for Mr. D'Anton?

Of course, the man himself could surprise her and be delighted she'd come… Christine snorted. What a delusion! No, somehow she just knew her reception was going to be met with hostility… at the very least.

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A/N: Well that's quite the twist in fate for our little nurse isn't it?

Thank you so much FP33 for your MAD beta skizzles: YOU'RE AMAZING, LADY!

And thank you so much, dear readers, for taking the time to read my little tale! Please leave a review in the kitty on your way out the door to show this authoress some support. :D

More soon, keep watch

PFP