Chapter Twelve

“See, she’s coming out now.” Aiden’s far more patient than normal voice reached her as she entered the room. Looking at the bed, she could see Alex’s little face craning to see her.

A bright smile crossed her face as she padded across the room, coming to his side as she looked at the little boy, reaching out to pat his hair into place as she said softly, “Hey kiddo, how are you feeling?” She completely ignored the three men by his side who were examining her own condition.

Hesitantly, he asked, “Vivian?” At her gentle nod, he burst into tears.

Panicking, she reached out to hug him as she asked, “What’s wrong, kiddo? We’re safe. Your uncle is here just like I told you.” She’d never been super great at consoling kids, but having the tiny bundle in her arms cry like the world was ending made her heart ache. Glancing at Aiden to ask for help, she found the man studying her hair. Director Heiliger and Doctor Jones had also come closer, and all three of them were frowning.

Even though only her skinny arms and below her knees were exposed, she felt half-naked as they studied the bruises and scars that were now extremely apparent on her fair skin. They seemed less concerned about the tiny child soaking her gown in tears. She hadn’t actually looked in the mirror, so she didn’t understand what they looked so upset about.

Looking at her arm where the large bandaid was slowly turning a rust-color as it absorbed her blood, Doctor Jones asked, “Why didn’t you mention you were bleeding earlier?”

“Is that really important right now?” She snapped impatiently, patting Alex gently on the back and ignoring the twinge of pain in her ribs with the movement. In the village, she’d been able to ignore most of the constant aches and pains as inevitable. Bruised ribs? So what, life had to go on. Now that she felt refreshingly clean, she was becoming painfully aware of every nick, scratch, and bruise on her body.

“No, I’d say your head is the actual issue right now. How on earth did this happen? We need to get you into the scanner now.” The director asked as he clicked a mini flashlight on and leaned in to look at her scalp wound. Aiden was hovering behind him, and the icy look on his face made him feel like a refrigerator as the air around him cooled a few degrees.

Sniffling, Alex looked up, more tears leaking from his eyes as he asked Director Heiliger, “You’ll help Sister Vivian get better?” His little hand tried to wipe his tears as he reached up to her face, gingerly touching her cheek as if she was made of glass.

“That’s right. We’re going to get her all treated, so you have to be a brave little boy and let her go for now.” The director seemed far more patient with the child, but the chill from Aiden wasn’t dissipating, making her nervous. What were they all freaking out about?

Doctor Jones was urgently asking the nurse questions in a low tone, and his face got progressively more stormy as she spoke. He returned to them a moment later and spoke tersely. “We need to get her into that machine now.”

She let out a soft sigh, patting Alex one more time as she slowly detached herself, looking the little boy in the eyes as she said. “I’m sorry, Alex. I need to let the doctors go look at me for a bit, but I’ll be back later. Everything is going to be okay.” Wiping his face with his dirty sleeve, he nodded like a tiny little master. Smiling, she reached out to catch a few stray tears as she said, “In the meantime, why don’t you let Nurse Taylor clean you up?”

He finally seemed to register his dirty clothing, and his face scrunched up in disgust as he nodded. “Okay. You see the doctor, I’ll go get new clothes.” He looked so much like a rich young master that she had to hold in her giggles. The others seemed entirely unfazed by his behavior, still far more concentrated on her.

Straightening up, she nodded to the men as she gave Alex one last head-pat and asked, “All right, where’s the scanner thing?” Her nonchalant attitude seemed to irk them, because Director Heiliger huffed.

“You realize you have an open head wound that’s bleeding, right?” She categorized him in her mind as an easily excitable person.

“I’d say it was more on the oozing side rather than any sort of immediate gushing problem. Not pretty, but not exactly an immediate problem. Isn’t that why I’m getting the scan? So we can make sure it’s safe to deal with?” She felt like her thought process was entirely logical, because if they wanted to address it beforehand, they wouldn’t have kept mentioning the machine.

Nurse Taylor approached the other side of the bed, giving the men a disapproving look as she addressed Alex. “Why don’t you come with me, sweetheart. After all, we wouldn’t want the good doctors to keep Miss Vivian from getting treatment immediately, now would we?” Her voice held reproach as she reminded them that they were dawdling by questioning her instead of actually treating the problem.

“Are you all right going with Nurse Taylor?” Aiden asked his nephew quietly, his demeanor softening as the child nodded to gain his approval. Looking at the others, he continued, “Then I’ll come with you to get Miss Vivian examined.” When had he started calling her miss anything?

Shaking that thought away mentally, she replied, “What are you coming with me for? Stay with Alex. You’re not a doctor.” The fiery look in his eyes was unnerving her, and she felt the need for immediate distance from the person who found her most suspicious. Before he could protest or argue, she grabbed an arm of each doctor and pulled them towards the door. “We’re off! We’ll be back soon.” They cooperatively let her drag them with her, and she could tell Doctor Jones was being especially careful not to jostle her. She only breathed a small sigh of relief once they’d exited the room under Aiden’s scowl, asking, “So, where’s the thing?”

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, the director detached himself from her carefully and gestured. “This way.” She followed obediently, and it was only when they’d entered another room several doors down that he asked, “Do you have something against old ninth?” Despite his question, he was considerately setting up the station, he and Doctor Jones helping her onto the table to be inserted into a tube for observation. She absently straightened her clothes to make sure she wasn’t flashing more skin than necessary.

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She gave them a small smile as she asked, “Why would I have something against him? I just don’t think it’s a good idea to leave Alex alone with another stranger right now.”

“Sure.” Doctor Jones agreed dryly, clearly also not believing her.

“Why are you so tense?” Director Heiliger asked the doctor.

The doc gestured to her as she was being moved into position. “The nurse said what we can see is minimal compared to what’s under the gown. If her face already looks like that, what does the rest of her look like?”

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad. Just a few superficial wounds and bruises.” Vivian defended herself, but it seemed the director was now taking this a lot more seriously.

“Lay still. We’ll see for ourselves with the scan.” He sternly ordered, going behind the machine to start the process as the giant donut began to light up around her.

“Whatever.” She muttered, closing her eyes and relaxing. If they didn’t want her to talk, she’d just take a short nap. Now that she was clean, she was starting to get tired. Not even flashing lights were enough to bother her, though she felt a bit cold and exposed in the hospital gown. She still wasn’t used to wearing so little after the layers of drapery she’d worn as a noble daughter.

“That shouldn’t even be possible. The damaged tissue suggests she’s had problems for at least five years.” Minutes later, the voices woke her up as the two doctors discussed her diagnosis.

Slowly opening her eyes, she saw that she was being rolled out of the machine and gave in to the yawn. A few minutes was not enough rest, and she wanted nothing more than to find a bed to roll into and sleep for a week. Groggily, she said, “Six.”

“Six what? You’re awake? How are you feeling?” Director Hieliger was practically pulling his curly blond hair out as he looked at her in frustration.

Giving him a sleepy smile, she replied, “Whatever it is you’re freaking out about, it’s probably been six years. That’s how long ago I was kidnapped.”

“Did you have a head injury then?” He helped her slowly sit up, and she gave him a small nod. Being especially careful, he escorted her to the next room over, where there was a normal examination table. She sat down on it as Doctor Jones acted as a silent assistant, bringing him what looked like alcohol and swabs as he ordered, “This might sting a bit, but try to hold still.”

Sting was an understatement as he dabbed her skull with what felt like liquid fire. Clenching her teeth, she closed her eyes and focused on just taking deep breaths in and out. Acting like he wasn’t scorching her brain with antiseptic, he asked conversationally, “Have you had any memory problems?”

Through clenched teeth, she replied, “Yes. I don’t remember anything from my childhood.” It was a little hard to understand, but he seemed to get the gist.

“Wait, you’re claiming you have a perfect recall for every face in the last six years, but no memories of anything before that?” Doc Jones hadn’t been around for that conversation, so she supposed it was logical of him not to know that bit of info.

“You have perfect recall?” The director seemed very interested in this.

Opening her eyes to look at the two doctors, she asked dryly, “Can you just focus on my wound?” Although it had stopped hurting so much, and she guessed at some point one of the liquids used was an anesthetic.

Director Heiliger held a needle threaded with clear line as he approached and ordered, “I am focused. I need to you lay down so your head is braced for this next part. Be careful, your ribs are heavily bruised.”

“I’m fully aware. Should you be doing this while I’m awake?” She rolled her eyes at him, but obediently lay down as Doctor Jones brought a bright overhead light over. She finally noticed an assistant quietly prepping things in the corner, but they remained silent and simply arranged what the docs needed, clearly familiar with their style of doing things as they went about their work without getting in the way.

“It’s easier to ask questions when you’re awake, and the area should already be numbed. Tell me if you feel any pain.” When she didn’t say anything when he was clearly doing something to her wound, he kept going as if he wasn’t sewing up her scalp. “Your test results are quite fascinating. You appear to have residual tissue abrasion from what we can only assume was a blood clot in your brain.”

“Was?” She asked curiously.

“Yes, that’s the… shall we say lucky thing about this situation? Your new wound appears to be directly connected to the area with the clot. When you hit your head, it was one of the things that must’ve come out, and you somehow lived through it. Many would call it a miracle.”

No, she died. The words were kept securely in her head. Whatever supernatural shenanigans put her in this body must’ve been responsible for the so-called miracle. Then again, if there was some god playing games with her reincarnation, she supposed divine intervention was literally the definition of a miracle. “Maybe the gods thought my journey wasn’t over.” There. That was appropriately neutral while still being true, as far as she knew.

“Perhaps. The area still appears mildly inflamed. It’s possible that as it heals, you’ll start to remember something, but there’s no need to push yourself, and your wounds should be kept dry for the next forty-eight hours.” It was a subtle jab at her need for a shower, but really, they all understood. She’d been absolutely filthy. “All right, let’s take a look at your other wounds. There appear to be multiple.”

Moving from her side to her stomach, she tried to relax as both Doctor Jones and the director got to work on her exposed arms and legs, cleaning and numbing the areas before applying salves and a few stitches as necessary. THEN they opened up the back of her hospital gown and she could hear the sharp hiss as they got a good view of her back.

“You… Why…” Poor director couldn’t seem to find the words as they viewed the skin that was basically entirely covered with crisscrossing scars. Eventually, she glanced up to find him pursing his lips as he got to work. When he finished, he ordered the assistant, “Get her a wheelchair. She’s not allowed to walk anywhere.” To her, he admonished, “You’re not to put any pressure on your back or head for the next two days and allow things to heal. Your ribs will probably be tender for several months.” He hesitated, then continued, “I’ll contact one of my seniors. He’s a specialist in TCM and may be able to help with your… situation.”

“Thank you, Director Heiliger.” She gave him a small smile as she carefully sat up with help.

He looked like he was about to say more, but one of the nurses arrived at the door and glanced at Vivian before she asked, “Director, if you have time, they could use some help.”

Viv flicked her fingers at him as she answered for him. “You should go. A lot of the women are in worse condition than I was.” It was about time for them to all start arriving, and even if they’d been prepared, there were only so many personnel.

Running a finger through his short brown locks after he shucked his gloves and muttered, “Hard to believe, with your condition.” He still nodded at her as he ordered Doctor Jones. “Watch her and make sure she doesn’t agitate her wounds.” With that, he whisked out of the door, following the latest nurse as Doc and the assistant helped transfer her to a wheelchair to be pushed the short distance to the ward. It felt like overkill because she’d been walking just fine before, but she supposed making sure she didn’t reopen anything was important.

Although it was a misguided use of the saying, snitches really did get stitches.