10AN: I would like to remind readers that this isn't essentially a part of the plot of my degeneration series. It's was a little brain tickle that wouldn't go away. It's about a conversation between two people and where they are in their lives. It is a conversation between myself and my characters.
Part 3 – "The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn."
T.H. WHITE, THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING
Alarms were blaring all around her, ringing insistently as she fought to stay alive. Jane Shepard knew that she was dying, knew that she was going to die. Everybody died. Everybody was dying. But she was the only person to have come back. And now, now she was going to lose. She had gone to Kenson's base without backup and she would pay dearly for it.
She had fallen, but couldn't remember when or for how long she had been lying there. There was someone lying over her legs, pinning her.
Jane tried to thrash out from underneath him, the alarm still blaring in her ears and her gaze searching for escape in the small room.
"Let me..."
Her mind caught up with her senses. The alarm turned to a soft ringing and the person on her legs turned into a dog. Out of breath and disorientated, Jane stared at the black and white dog who whined suddenly and sat up, jumping off of the bed. The pressure on her legs disappeared immediately and she felt foolish. The ringing had stopped and when she turned to where it had come from, she found an old fashioned telephone beside the bed.
Shepard stared at it and decided that she had gone mad. There was no way on earth that she could be in the twenty-first century. It just couldn't be real.
Her pain, however, was.
Taking a breath to steady herself, Jane lay back gingerly and stared at the ceiling. She took a moment to centre herself despite her discomfort and disorientation and looked around again, realising that she had no idea where Dr Gable was. She saw the woman's dog sitting in the hallway staring at her. She expected the animal to bark and vaguely thought that it was no way to treat someone you slept next to. But the collie was quiet and, when she looked at her, she turned around and went into the kitchen. Jane followed her departure and wondered if Abby was there. She listened for any commotion, but when she heard nothing, Shepard began to consider that the vet had left.
She was about to get up and look for her when she heard a shift from the floor. Jane frowned and pushed herself up, biting her tongue against the pain she felt in her arm and leg. Her fingers were numb, stupid, but they could still move at least. Sitting upright now, Jane steadied herself and leaned forward gingerly, trying hard not to move too much. She found her hostess curled up on the floor, sleeping underneath an old blanket.
Sleeping? Jane thought as she studied her shallow breathing. She looks unconscious, if the ringing didn't wake her...
"Abby?" She whispered softly. "Abigail?"
Dr Gable didn't move, but Jane didn't have the heart to try harder. The woman had had a rough night. Despite her own discomfort, Shepard thought it best to let the sleeping vet lie. Grimacing, remembering her fear from the night before, Jane sighed.
"I'm sorry, Abigail," she whispered. "I really am."
It was clear to her that this woman did not know her, despite the resemblance she shared with the Dr Gable in their world. In their reality. Jane was still convinced that this was some sort of delusion, but she could not deny that it felt real. As did Abby, though she was nothing like the woman Jane had come to admire.
Or no, Jane thought as she settled back. That wasn't entirely fair.
This Dr Gable had the same determination that their Abby had. It was what had made Jane force her to take care of her arm, to deal with it before anybody else showed up. Dr Gable could do what needed to be done regardless of the pressure she was under. Regardless of the disease that threatened to rob her of her very livelihood. And, when it all was done, after Jane threatened her and told her that she came from a world this woman did not believe existed... She brought her here. To her home.
Not because she believed her, but because she thought that she had gone mad.
And a part of this Abby appeared to be perfectly fine with it.
But where their Abby had a type of enlightened calm, this woman... didn't. She had wrapped her disease around her like a shadow and Jane had no doubt that it was on her mind as surely as her crutch was in her hand.
This Dr Gable had her worried, because Jane could not shake the feeling that she was giving up. Something she had never known Abby to do. One could argue that it had to do with the progression of her disease. Jane had never known Abby to walk with a crutch yet this woman could barely stand unaided.
Hearing the phone ring again, Jane could not help but wonder if this doppelgänger was a reflection of whom their Abby would've been if they had never crossed paths...
It was the phone that dragged her to consciousness.
Abby lay on the floor, her lower back aching and her shoulder numb. Groggily she wondered what the hell she was doing on the floor when previous night's events rushed back to her. She cursed softly and scrambled up unbalanced, practically falling on the phone beside her bed and answering it with a dim:
"'lo?"
"Dr Gable," came the voice of their one assistant, Kaylee. "Are you alright?"
Struggling to think and drag two sentences together, Abby glanced at Jane to see that the woman was already awake. Her features were pale, but she certainly looked as if she had more of her senses about her than Abby did. Angry and not sure why, Abby tried to keep her tone civil with the young assistant.
"Kaylee, yes," she managed. "Good morning. I'm sorry. I... You woke me up." What the hell was the time? She cringed when she saw it and knew exactly why they were calling. She should've been at the clinic almost an hour ago.
"We..." The young woman hesitated. "We were wondering where you are. This is the second time I've called. We wondered if something went wrong and..." There was a pause and a murmur in the background. "Dr Patrick wants to speak to you."
Great, Abby thought bitterly, but cleared her voice so that she sounded better for her colleague.
"Abby?" Came a strong male voice. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, Andrew," Abby said quickly. "Good morning, I'm sorry – everything's fine. I had a very late call last night. I only came in at about four and forgot to set my alarm."
Her colleague paused on the other side of the line. "An emergency?" he queried and she could tell that there was some doubt in his voice. Why she couldn't say because, although she had cleared up all of the blood, the evidence of it would still be in the bins. "What was the case?"
She had to think fast, something her idling mind wouldn't let her. "Great Dane," she answered as quickly as she could. "Almost garrotting itself. Stitched it up, sent the patient home. Owners couldn't pay the overnight fee." He'll have something to say about that, especially when he realises that no funds had been transferred. "It was... A bit rushed. I'll be there in an hour, just let me take a shower and..."
"It's alright, Abby," her partner said immediately. "We were just worried about you." We're on suicide watch. "I saw the bloody dressing and wondered."
Ah, Abby thought. That was where the doubt had come from. Not sure whether she should be relieved that they accepted the lie or irritated by the undercurrent of concern that she heard, Abby shrugged, glancing at Shepard who had had the gall to sit up. Stay woman, down!
"I'll be there in an hour."
"There's no need, Abby," Andrew laughed suddenly. "We've got it under control here; we were just worried about you. Take your time, be on call, but I don't think it's necessary that you come in now. Maybe after lunch?" She hated to admit it, but she was relieved for his 'permission'. It would make them ask fewer questions.
"I'll see you then," she sighed and added grudgingly. "Thank you, Andrew." When he rang off she let out a breath and rubbed her hands through her dirty feeling hair before she glanced at Jane. I need a shower.
"Stay down."
She did not like the way Jane smiled at her. The appreciation that the woman had in her clear green eyes. It was that look that came with familiarity. That shared interaction. That look that said she knew her a lot better than Abby wanted to.
"Good morning to you too," Jane said with an amused smile though Abby could see tight lines of pain on her features. "Everything alright?"
Not sure how much she should explain herself, Abby simply sat back for a moment and squeezed her temples between her palms. She felt terrible, exhausted and not rested at all. She knew that it would take her the better part of a week to recover from all the previous evening's excitement. Her own mortality, her own inefficiency lay before her as clearly as this woman did.
Where's my dog?
She looked up and saw that the bag of voluven was spent and the saline IV near depletion. She had to get up to change them, but the task felt nearly impossible. Closing her eyes, Abby took a deep breath and pressed both her hands against the side of the bed.
"My colleague," she said simply and then grunted as she pushed herself up. "I should've been at work ages ago."
Shepard nodded, her gaze not leaving her, but tracking every movement. Scrutinising every tremble in her arms. Abby looked away from her and steadied herself against the bedside table, making sure to find her balance before she moved to the kitchen. There, she got the medication that she had brought from the clinic out of the fridge and returned to the bedroom, stopping at the bathroom to wash her hands before she did so.
"When do you have to leave?" Jane asked as she rejoined her in the room. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience that I've caused." Abby noted that she didn't really sound sorry at all. She said it as a commander would, apologising for interrupting when really, she wanted her full attention.
She didn't reply immediately, but pulled some gloves from the bag and put them on. Allowing herself to partially rest against the bed, Abby reached up and took down the IV lines. She discarded the voluven bag and decided that she might as well do the same with saline, replacing it with a fresh bag instead. Next she took out a syringe and morphine. Her intention was to give Jane a similar dose to the night before, but her hands betrayed her and, as she tried to slip the syringe into the bottle she stabbed herself with the needle.
Abby jerked and struggled not to let the medication drop, forcing her hand to enclose around the bottle. She had closed her eyes to concentrate and, when opened them again she found that Jane Shepard was holding out her good arm.
"What is that?" the commander queried, her gaze lingering on the bottle. Abby gave it to her reluctantly and quickly changed the needle and her punctured glove.
"Morphine," she said, before briefly sucking at the tiny puncture wound. "I'll give you the same dose as last night. Sorry about..." She sighed and flexed her hand. "I'm sorry."
Jane's eyes were sharp as she returned her attention to Abby and carefully put the bottle on the bedside table.
"Why don't we wait with that for a moment," she said levelly. "I don't need it now."
Abby snorted and motioned to her leg. "I need to see what's going on down there," she pointed out. "Trust me, you'll need it."
Jane smiled, but there was a self-conscious light in her eyes. For a moment, she looked almost humble. "Abby, if that medication makes my head spin as it did last night, I'll be bed bound till it wears off," she pointed out. "There are things I need to see to first. If you can help me."
Abby stared at her, uncomprehending. Jane waited for her, shifting awkwardly before she smiled. It was a surprisingly warm gesture that made Abby want to smile with her.
Don't get taken by the magic of it all.
"Normally you'd give your other patients a newspaper I expect," Shepard clarified.
Abby blushed immediately and looked down. "Bloody 'ell," she whispered. "Sorry. I... didn't think about it." Stupid human patient!
Stupid human doctor.
Jane's amusement made it worse. "Then why don't we get that sorted," she said. "I would like a shower as well, but I think we can do that when I can stand on my own. I don't think you'll fancy helping me. You don't seem very comfortable with human anatomy now that you're not putting stitches into it." Her eyes brightened. "Though I have to say, you dressed me quite well."
Blushing even more, Abby waved her off. "It had to be done," she said shortly and carefully took up the morphine and placed it back into the bag so that she could put it into the fridge. "I should... probably get us something to eat as well." Her brain was finally beginning to kick in. "And let me dog out, before she utilises the newspaper herself." She dropped her gaze embarrassed and slipped the bag underneath the bed.
"I'm sorry. I haven't had... guests in ages. I'm not like this, I'm just..." She didn't finish her sentence. Jane did it for her.
"Tired," the woman offered and the understanding in her struck a chord in Abby though she didn't necessarily like it.
This woman could see her much better than she should've for someone who wasn't real. But, Abby thought as she carefully helped Jane off of the bed and to the bathroom. It makes sense that our own madness would know us. That our delusions would be familiar with our very soul.
Still, Abby hoped that her delusion didn't see that she had taken an extra bottle of morphine, when one would've been enough...
Awkward, but thorough, Dr Gable had helped Jane to the bathroom and back. She also helped her into a looser fitting shirt as the pair of surgical slacks that Shepard was wearing was a bit too tight for her and irritated the burn wound. They were almost of the same height, but Abby was significantly slimmer than Jane. The shirt she had on was clearly not Dr Gable's, but perhaps a remnant from the time she did not live in this cottage alone. Jane watched the silent vet as she left through the kitchen, whistling to her dog to follow her. She didn't lie down immediately, instead hopping over to the window with a pained grimace and pulled open the curtains, allowing the dim light of a dreary morning inside. She heard the dog bark and could follow her progress as she ran through the yard, happy to be out.
Abby followed more slowly, gingerly picking her way across the loose stones that covered the courtyard. Jane vaguely remembered their arrival the previous night. It had been dark and she had been too focused on moving without fainting to pay her surroundings any mind. Now, charmed by the domestic and earthy feel of the place, she opened the window and let the cold, damp air inside. The noise of the window made Abby look up and meet her gaze. Her brow furrowed in disapproval, but she said nothing and rather took something Tammy had brought for her. She tossed a red ball away from the yard then bend to pick something up when the dog ran away from her. Jane watched with fascination as she carried a metal cage with what appeared to be a fluffy rat to one of the out buildings. She disappeared there and, when she came back, the cage was gone.
Seeing that she was planning on returning, Jane went back to the bed and was nearly settled when she heard the door open again. Abby came back inside, the alien click of her crutch the only sound in the room. She didn't come to the bedroom immediately, fussing around in the kitchen. When she came back into sight, she had left her crutch and was carrying a tea tray with a look of such intense concentration that Jane thought she was going to stare a hole right through it. The commander's first instinct was to try and get up to help, but then she realised that, crippled as she was, she would hardly be any help. And, there was strange look of determination in Abby's eyes as she focused on the tray, the cups trembling as her hands refused to be steady. This woman did what she could with what she had.
And offering to help her would've been an insult.
So, Jane waited, watching with a critical eye as Abby carefully put the tray down at the edge of the bed and finding no amount of pleasure from the quiet relief she saw in the vet's eyes. Abby must've sensed her gaze because she glanced up and met Jane's eyes. Her anger was quick and quiet in her dark eyes.
"Don't pity me," she said simply and turned back to the kitchen. "I'm making oats."
Jane didn't say anything, but waited for the storm to pass. When Abby returned, she had her crutch and looked calmer. Wishing to change the subject, Shepard sat back and tried to smile.
"What happened to the rat?"
Abby frowned at her, not immediately following the conversation. "I'm sorry?"
Jane motioned to the world outside. "That thing you had in the cage," she said. "The fluffy rat?"
The look Abby gave her was one of pure horror. "That was a squirrel," she pointed out. "Not a rat. What did you learn in biology?"
Jane blinked and laughed embarrassed. "The difference between secondary and tertiary organ systems?" She pointed out to which Abby made a gesture with her hand.
"It was a squirrel," she said, but seemed a little surprised at what Jane had said. "A gray one. I took it for... swimming lessons. They're miserable creatures. They've infested the apple store, and they breed like rats..." Her cheek coloured. "It's quick."
Jane decided not to ask, watching as the vet poured them both a cup of tea, wondering what her life must've been like if she considered squirrels to be the worst pests out there. If this was the past, then the threat of the reapers were far away. Even that of the batarians and Skyllian Blitz.
She heard a clatter beside her and realised that Abby had reached out to hand her a cup on a saucer. It was very... quaint. Their gazes met and they stared at each other for a very long time as Jane carefully took the cup from her. Abby didn't move back immediately, but her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Are you real?" she whispered. "Are you... really real?"
Jane didn't know how to answer her, but nodded. "Are you?"
Abby grimaced and moved to pull a chair closer. "I am," she said. "It's just... This is Wales, you know. This sort of thing doesn't just happen. I don't know how to start wrapping me head around it." She frowned at Jane. "And you say I'm in your world as well? You obviously knew me. Or... know me." She picked up her own cup of tea, leaving the saucer on the tray. "Is there a cure for me, in your world?"
Jane blinked and had to answer carefully, trying to remember what Miranda and Chakwas had told her in the beginning. "Your... condition disappeared when genetic testing became compulsory," she said quietly. "You're the first case recorded in almost seventy years. More so I'd imagine."
Abby was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on her tea. "So, no cure?" she queried quietly and Jane was glad that she wasn't looking directly at her.
"No medical one," she pointed out and, to her surprise, Abby breathed a sigh of relief.
"Fancy that," she murmured. "No salvation." Her dark eyes looked up and met Jane's. "Then what do I do there, Commander? What the hell am I doing there?"
Jane didn't reply immediately, but took a sip of her tea. It tasted different than what she was used to and the water tasted... more organic. It was hard to explain. "You didn't say exactly," Jane pointed out. "We saved you from a planet. You were always very secretive or no..." Jane decided that was wrong. "You just didn't answer everything." Her gaze sharpened. "If you come from this world, I can imagine why you'd be confused. But you were pretty familiar with aliens."
Abby's face was dark as she glared at her own cup. "Your world isn't real, Commander," she said. "Not here. I'm familiar with it because it is a game."
Her words tickled Jane's memory, taking it back to the night before. "So you said," she said. "You can give me proof of its existence?"
Abby's eyes were sharp as she met her gaze again. "That I can," she said. "My system's at the practice mind. I'm not playing at the moment and thought to take it there." Her mouth was thin as she tried to work out the puzzle before her. "Which bears to question how you came here. You're not real, but..." the vet trailed off for a moment, embarrassed. "You are. What's the last thing that you remember?"
Jane wasn't exactly sure. She took in her injuries and tried to recall what she had thought of the night before. Miranda came to mind and Chakwas, tight with anger... Kenson and the reapers.
This could be a trap.
She looked back to Abby and the vet frowned at the look in her eyes. "Whatever you're thinking about," the woman began darkly. "I didn't do it. Don't look at me like that. I'll be back in a moment." She put the cup down and pushed herself up, limping back to the kitchen. Jane followed her until she disappeared around the corner, aware of the increasing discomfort in her leg. She was beginning to wish that Abby had administered the pain medication, but she also needed her mind to focus.
What if this is a trap? What if she is not real... The thought didn't feel right. This Abby was too angry and bitter to be a delusion. She felt a twinge of sadness when she heard the crutch drop in the kitchen and the welsh woman's hissed curse. She was very ill.
Am I here to help with that? Why am I here? She was beginning to feel threads of anxiety tighten around her heart. What if I cannot return to my own world?
She looked up to see Abby bring two bowls to the bedroom, both clutched in her hands, the crutch for now abandoned in the kitchen. Jane couldn't help herself, but studied Abby's movements meticulously. She knew that she would not have been able to leap up if the woman fell again, but...
"I presume I'm better off in your world at least," Abby's voice was soft, jerking Jane out of her thoughts. The commander had the grace to look embarrassed and chose to cast her gaze out to the window.
"You weren't walking with a crutch," she pointed out. "You still don't." Her next words were careful. "I presume that, as it is in your world, there are medications that can stem the development of your symptoms."
The vet's smile was bitter as she pulled a pillow closer and used it as a makeshift table for Jane's bowl. The bland coloured mixture reminded her of something she used to get in Alliance training. "That there is," Abby said quietly. "What brought you here, Jane Shepard? Are there reapers on the way?" She said it as if it was meant to be a joke, but Jane couldn't smile.
"I hope not," she said seriously. "Are there?"
Abby raised a brow at her tone and motioned to the bowl. "I've put some sugar and cream in," she pointed out. "It's not inedible. None that I know of. The worst thing we're facing here is..." She thought for a moment. "Oh, I'd say David Cameron as prime minister, but he's been at it a year and nobody's tried to destroy the world yet." She laughed at herself, but reference was totally lost on Jane who decided to try her oats.
"No, but in all honesty there's no danger here," Abby said finally. "I wish I could say there's something exciting on the way. Maybe with you here there is, but..." She trailed off and shrugged. "I'm just a vet trying to survive. The worst thing I have to face is meself. But that's true for all of us, isn't it?"
Her dark eyes moved to Jane who looked away and tried to swallow the sweet mess in her mouth. Abby was also silent for a few moments as she ate slowly, every bite done with more concentration than she should've needed.
"Maybe you're here because you need a break."
Jane blinked and looked back to the dark haired woman. Abby had pushed away her bowl, half of it uneaten. As Jane watched, she got up slowly and began to gather up the tea stuff. Her gaze was focused on her hands, not on Jane's face.
"Maybe you need a break."
Still surprised by her words, Jane said nothing. She tried to finish her food and was able to slip the bowl onto Abby's tray just as she was about to leave.
"Are you saying this is a holiday?" She queried, watching the vet as she smiled, genuinely amused for the first time.
"Mayhap," she pointed out. "I don't see any other reason why the saviour of the galaxy would make an appearance on my doorstep. Hang on for a moment; I'll be back in a second. I'll clean your wound, then, if it's alright with you, grab a moment or two's sleep before my shift starts." She did not wait for an answer, but left the room to return to her kitchen.
Jane followed her exit again, her thoughts turning around the veterinarian's words.
Maybe, she thought suddenly, thinking about Abby's bitterness, thinking about the darkness that she saw in her eyes.
Maybe, I am here to save you.