Disclaimer: I do not own Penny Dreadful or any of the characters.

Chapter Two

Caliban could tell that Emily was out cold as he carefully laid her down on the mattress he had at the clinic. Whether she was unconscious, fainted, or simply deeply asleep, he could not be sure. He had called out her name and shaken her, wanting to let her know where they were.

When she did not respond, he felt her forehead. She was warm-too warm. But was the warmth due to a fever, or her burns?

Not wanting to linger in indecision (he had learned from his theatre days that indecision was what had nearly driven Shakespeare's character, Hamlet, mad), he went and found the nun on duty.

He quickly told the nun about Emily and her injuries. The nun (he believed her name to be Lisa, but had no time to ask) kindly agreed to gather what supplies she had, as well as ask a few of her sisters to come and help.

"Hurry," Caliban urged her as she turned and walked briskly towards another nun farther away. He soon turned and did the same. Once by Emily's side again, he knelt by her head. Quickly, and despite how she was unconscious, he spoke to her.

"Miss Emily," he whispered. "Miss Emily, if you can hear me, I want you to know that some others are coming to help you. We're going to fix your leg, which I reckon is going to hurt quite a lot. But once it's all set, it should feel better. Then, the nuns are going to help the burns get better-put cool water on them and cover them up. But the nun I talked to said that I should not help with that part-it would be improper for me to see the parts of your body that they must check. But I won't be far, I promise. Just in case you need me."

If Emily could hear him, she did not show it. She remained still, save for breathing and the occasional shiver.

"And," Caliban added, "I realized I forgot to introduce myself. My name is…well, it seems I have a few. Some call me "monster," or "demon." To others, I am "John Clare," just like the poet. And to, well, at least one person or two, I am "Caliban.""

"You can call me Caliban," he decided. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Emily."

Almost as an afterthought, he reached out and touched her hand gently with his own.

Hearing footsteps- the nuns were fast approaching- he turned his head towards them.

It was then that he felt Emily's hand move. Turning his face back to her, he saw that, not only had her hand moved in response to his touch, her fingers stretching out and around his own, but that she had also turned her head towards him, as if seeking him- seeking the source of the touch.

Her eyes were still closed, but her face was scrunched up, as if in confusion. Or pain. Perhaps both. He wanted to soothe her, somehow.

"Don't be scared, Miss," he whispered, still not sure if she could hear him, but knew that she had somehow felt his touch. "We're going to help you get better. I promise. I won't leave you-not really. I mean, the nuns may shoo me away at one point, but, like I said before, I won't be far. You are not alone."

Again, something tugged at his mind. Just like at the river. A memory just out of reach. Perhaps, if his wife ever allowed him to come back, he could ask her about his previous life. Perhaps one of his professions was involved in helping people?

He remembered, suddenly, what Vanessa had told him not long before she had died. Of how he had been very kind to her at someplace called the "Banning Clinic." He had helped her, apparently. She had claimed that he had worked there. But as what? Surely not as a doctor?

Caliban did not know much about the place, save for the name. But he was determined to look into it. Anything regarding the recovery of memories of his life was worth considering. Especially when those memories included Vanessa Ives, whom he missed dearly.

But not that night. That night, he would stay close to Emily. Another young woman who needed his help.

"Sir? Is she unconscious?"

The voice of Sister Lisa brought him out of his thoughts. He hesitated.

"More or less," he conceded. "Though, I am not sure."

"Better for her, then, if she is. We need to fix the leg, first," another nun chimed in, her voice deeper than Lisa's. She was older, too, about middle-aged, and her manner all business.

Caliban could only hope that Emily would not feel what they had to do.

After feeling up the general area of the break (which by then had swollen up so much that it seemed almost impossible, at least to Caliban, to determine where the bone was broken, precisely), it was determined that they needed to straighten her leg, even pull it a little to help align the broken parts again.

As the nuns worked on her, all Caliban could do was sit beside her, still holding her hand in his. Except for the brief time she woke up when they tried to straighten her leg.

Her eyes popped open, and she screamed like an angry banshee.

"Get off!" she cried, struggling against the holds of the nuns as well as his own. "Stop! What the hell are you doing? Where am I? Who are you?"

Before any of them could respond, Emily let out a long string of words that, even if Caliban did not understand every word's meaning, did understand that they were not the type to be repeated in public.

"Such unladylike language!" one of the nuns exclaimed.

If Emily had even heard the woman, she did not care as she tried to sit upright, fighting against their holds.

"Emily," Caliban called out her name. "Emily!" he repeated more firmly, his hands on her shoulders, then, trying to keep her still.

At hearing her name again, she turned her head to see him. Recognition passed over her features, lessening her confusion.

"These women are trying to fix your leg. Please, calm down. The sooner you let them, the sooner the pain goes away," he pleaded with her while the nuns remained all but frozen in place.

"You…" Emily trailed off somewhat dreamily, voice much quieter, reaching out with one hand, her pointer-finger out, towards his face. "You brought me here. From the river."

"Yes," Caliban agreed, glad she recognized him.

At his confirmation, she allowed herself to relax somewhat.

"Were you…talking to me, earlier? You said you had the name…" she squinted, trying to remember. "Caliban? Was that it?"

Now he was the one surprised.

"You heard me?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Sort of... It was like you were talking from far away, and all I got were echoes. You said- Aah!"

The nuns then took the opportunity of her distraction to move the leg into the proper position in one quick move.

Meanwhile, Caliban could not help the thought which crossed his mind, that he vaguely wished he was the one hearing only echoes as she let out a sudden shriek of pain right in his ear.

"Ow! Owowow," Emily yelped, though she seemed to be trying to keep much more quiet and still, so that the nuns could work. "Jesus Christ!"

He still held her hand, though, while keeping the other on her shoulder.

"They're almost done," he assured her, trying not to glare at the head nun who was feeling the area around the break again to assure that it was aligned properly. He knew she was just trying to do her job, after all.

As soon as the nun let go of her leg, Emily quieted.

"The pain is less," she stated, looking across her body at her leg. "Thank you all for helping me. I'm sorry that I used such foul language. It was wrong, and unkind."

Her voice was quiet, and soft. She looked around at the group of nuns, seeking a response.

Caliban could tell her words were sincere, and, apparently, so could the nuns.

"All is forgiven," the older nun replied after exchanging a look with her sisters. "Heaven knows that we are all guilty sometimes of using such language in moments of pain or fear."

The nun smiled kindly.

"Now that your leg is back in its proper place, we can splint it and tend to your burns. Where would you say that they are the worst?"

Emily appeared thoughtful for a minute, looking across her body, shifting slightly, feeling where the pain was.

"My upper legs, my hands, and my face. Though, my chest stings, too. Just here," she pointed to her mid-torso area, just beneath her...

Oh.

Oh. Caliban realized, turning away from her as the nuns gathered around her, his face hot with embarrassment.

"Aye," a nun noticed his movement. "Yes, you indeed best be lookin' away, sir," she told him sternly.

Caliban scrambled to his feet.

"I was just going…" he trailed off, unsure of where to go. It was still pouring outside.

The look on the nuns' face softened when she realized his predicament.

"Why not go to your own little section and rest," she gestured to the rest of the building in general. The woman had seen him in the shelter before. "We'll come get you when we're all done."

"Yes," he agreed. "Thank you."

He cast a glance back at Emily, who had noticed his departure from her side.

"Caliban?" she called. "You… you'll be back, right?"

"Yes, of course," he assured her. "I promise I will."

From the corner of his eye, he saw her smile, slightly.

"Okay," she relented.

He nodded, and began to make his way down the row of columns toward the other section of the shelter.

"Oh," Emily's voice reached his ears, slowing his steps. "And Caliban? It's nice to meet you, too."

For the first time that night, Caliban smiled sincerely.

And so ends chapter two. I'm terribly sorry for the long delay in updating. I hate waiting for my favorite stories to update, too. I hope this chapter will make up for it. And, please, as always, leave me a review. It doesn't have to be long. Even just a "good job" or something is more likely to make me update again sooner than if there were no reviews.

Happy new year, by the way!