Awakenings

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All characters, fabrications, walkers, lightning sticks and the like are the property of Scott Westerfield. No money is being made on this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

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A/N: Conceived (entirely) and written (mostly) pre-Goliath. This chapter was originally posted with the title of the next chapter. I apologize to anyone I confused.

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Continued from Chapter 3: A Great Day

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July 13, 1918

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Alek awoke to pain. It seemed as if pain was all he could remember, as if it defined his life. He knew there had been other things beside pain, once, but he couldn't remember what.

But the pain wasn't as bad this time. He could think, not just feel, but he still couldn't seem to remember. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, and agony spiked through him. He struggled to suppress a scream, but a hiss of pain escaped.

"Alek?"

"Deryn?" Only it came out, "Drrn." An image of her came to mind; some memories were still there, it seemed. He tried to crack his eyes open; but the light stabbed deep into his brain and he immediately closed them again with a grunt.

"Shh, love, it's all right. Don't try to move, just lie there and heal up."

"Heal up." The voice was an uncanny imitation, but it wasn't Deryn's. For one thing, it shook in a way she'd never let show. Bovril, then. Even more memories came back.

"Shot." He couldn't manage to remember what came before, but the pain when the bullet hit was crystal clear. Only brief glimpses after that: horrible pain, surrounded by strangers intent on inflicting even more pain, followed by blessed unconsciousness. He wasn't sure whether that had happened several times, or whether he was remembering the same scene over and over again.

He felt Deryn's hand on top of his. "Aye, you were shot, but you're getting better. Your job right now is to heal. Everything else can wait."

He could hear the tears in her voice, but that wasn't right; Deryn didn't cry. He had no idea what 'everything else' meant; there was only pain and Deryn. With an effort, he turned his hand over in hers. It hurt, but the pain was worth it. He squeezed her hand as hard as he could; he hoped she could feel it.

"No tears." He wasn't sure it was intelligible, or even if he had said it aloud.

"No, love, no tears. Go back to sleep now. I'll be here when you wake."

He wanted to say 'I love you' in German, the way Deryn liked, but he didn't have the energy, and sleep sounded so tempting. As the world faded out around him, he thought he felt Deryn's lips on his own and her breathy, "Ich liebe dich."

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July 14, 1918

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Deryn had told the truth: she was there when he awoke, asleep in a chair next to his bed with a blanket pulled over her and Bovril curled up on her shoulder. He was delighted to hear her soft, throaty snores. They had never had the opportunity to actually sleep together; now he had something to tease her with. Despite the circumstances, he found it comforting: a bit of the future domesticity that he hoped lay at the end of his tortuous journey.

She must be uncomfortable; she would definitely have a crick in her neck when she awoke. He couldn't bring himself to wake her, though; he was too content watching her. Right now, it was just the two of them; once she woke up, he was afraid the 'everything else' would come crushing down on him. Memories were coming back, but he determinedly pushed them to the margins of his mind, preferring to dwell in this timeless moment.

He tried to turn towards her, to see her better, but his left arm wouldn't work. He tried to turn his head, found he couldn't. Panicked, he tried his right arm; he could move that a little, although it hurt. Less anxious now, he tried his legs. He could move the right, but it was hard work. When he moved his left leg, pain shot up his left side and into his shoulder. He stopped and, after a calming breath, he settled for watching her out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but smile. With her face relaxed, she looked adorable and utterly feminine. Nobody could mistake her for a man, at that moment, even in her lieutenant's uniform; which, he suddenly realized, she wasn't wearing. Instead she was in a staid blue dress with a high collar. It was… shocking, actually.

Alek hadn't realized there was someone else in the room until she appeared next to him. The white, starched uniform told Alek she was a nurse. The woman produced a thermometer from nowhere, as far as Alek could tell, and stuffed it into his mouth before he could say a word; then she took his wrist to measure his pulse. Deryn stirred. Almost reflexively, he tried again to turn his head just enough to get a better look at her.

"Don't move," the nurse ordered, making no attempt to keep her voice down. Alek would have glared at her; but that would have meant taking his gaze off Deryn, and nothing seemed more important than watching her. She sleepily opened her eyes and met his gaze. A smile filled her face and she stood up; Bovril protesting sleepily as it slipped off her shoulder and onto the chair, where it settled again.

The nurse pulled the thermometer from his mouth and stared at it, pursing her lips. Deryn moved to stand next to her, the smile still showing. The nurse glared at her for encroaching on her domain, then turned her attention back to Alek.

"How do you feel?"

Alek, his attention still on Deryn, said in his best imitation of her Galwegian accent, "Barking awful."

Deryn grinned; the nurse did not appear amused. She poked his left shoulder with a finger. "Does that hurt?"

"Yes," Alek gritted out.

"Hmm. I'll fetch the doctor." She bustled out again. Alek tried to lift his right hand towards Deryn, who quickly reached out and took it before the pain got too bad. She sat carefully on the bed and just looked at him, her eyes speaking for her. Since it was an effort to think in coherent sentences, let alone say them out loud, Alek was happy not to have to talk. Only then did he realize that the nurse had spoken English the whole time.

"Darwinist?" he asked in surprise.

"Your sodding Clanker doctors came within a squick of killing you," she retorted, her voice venomous. "If Nora hadn't got her fancy-boots doctor here right quick, they would have."

Alek raised his eyebrows, but couldn't think of how to respond. Instead, he said, "I can't move my left arm or neck."

"And you'd better not try," Deryn warned. "That bullet tore up your shoulder something horrible. They've bound your arm to your body and have your neck in a brace, so you can't jostle it."

Alek glanced over to his left. His shoulder was wrapped in bandages. He couldn't see his left arm very well, the bandages were in the way, but he could see a stand holding a bottle of fluids. A small, rubber tube came out the bottom of the bottle; the other end dropped out of sight, but he had no doubt it ended in a needle stuck into his arm.

As he pondered her all of this, the door opened and a large gray-haired man in a suit, with a stethoscope around his neck, entered, followed by the nurse. Deryn moved off the bed to give them room to work.

"Ah," he said jovially, "our distinguished host has rejoined us. How are you feeling today?" Without waiting for a response, he took his pulse again, while the nurse pulled back the blankets and sheet. Alek realized with a start that he was naked, except for the bandages wrapping his left shoulder. His face heated and he glanced at Deryn.

She smiled wickedly. "Nothing I haven't seen before, remember?"

His face turned even redder, but neither the doctor nor the nurse paid them any attention. Instead the doctor put a cold stethoscope to Alek's chest, demanding he breathe in; he did that over and over again, each time in a slightly different place. After that he poked and prodded Alek mercilessly, demanding if it hurt, hardly waiting for a reply before moving on to the next spot. Alek soon felt bruised and pummeled.

"Lymph nodes no longer swollen, color good, no hot spots. Nurse, remove the bandages." A few snips were followed by even more painful poking and prodding.

"God's wounds, man," Alek finally gasped, "leave off." Pain was exhausting work.

The doctor ignored him, but seemed to have finished. "No need to open the wound again; it can be left to finish healing without interference. The penicillin is doing its job, but he will need to continue the treatment for another week to ensure the infection does not return."

Alek looked at Deryn and mouthed, "Penicillin?"

Deryn grinned. "Bread mold."

Alek repressed a shudder. The doctor had left, he realized. In his place, the nurse stepped back up to the bed, holding a syringe.

"Ow!"

Deryn smirked. "Ah, the poor baby."

Alek would have glared at her, but he didn't have the energy. The nurse made him drink something and then she left. Deryn shifted back onto the bed and took his hand again.

"We are not inviting them to the wedding," he told her grumpily, as the pain began to seep away.

The last thing he remembered, before sleep took him, was the look of shocked surprise on Deryn's face.

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8:00 AM July 15, 1918

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Once again, she was sitting in the chair near the bed, when he awoke.

"Hello, Alek, I am glad to see you conscious for a change."

That was not Deryn's voice. Alek felt a momentary panic, until he realized whose it was. It had been two years since he had heard it last, after all.

"Hello, Dr. Barlow. Where's Deryn?" It occurred to him that he was being rude, implying he would rather have Deryn's company than hers (however true that was), but Dr. Barlow took no offence.

"She has to sleep sometime, Alek. I promised her there would be a friendly face when you woke up."

Now Alek really felt embarrassed. "She hasn't been overtiring herself, has she?"

Dr. Barlow smiled. "She has tried, but we have insisted she sleep." She sighed. "But nothing will keep her from your side, when she's awake. I would be grateful if you could convince to eat more and to take a turn outside every once in a while. It's not healthy to stay in doors all the time."

"I will try." He started to turn his head towards her, to see her more easily, but the neck brace prevented it. Dr. Barlow shifted her chair so she was more clearly in his field of vision. "What are you doing in Vienna, doctor? Or am I in England?"

"No, not England; this is Schonbrunn Palace." Alek realized she was right. This was his bedroom, in fact; it was all the unidentifiable Darwinist equipment, on the floor and on innumerable tables that had been brought in, that misled him.

"I needed to examine Bovril," she explained. "There are only two perspicacious lorises in existence and I must study them, if I hope to improve the next generation." A trace of bitterness entered her voice, as she added, "Whenever that might be."

Drily, Alek commented, "Strange that you have not felt the need to examine it these past two years."

"Deryn and I have been exchanging letters since I left the Leviathan," she said airily. Alek nodded. Dr. Barlow had learned Deryn's secret just days before their arrival in England. Her expression when she realized how she had been fooled would have been most amusing, if they had not been terrified she would give them away. Fortunately she had formed quite a liking for Mr. Sharp and, Alek suspected, saw an advantage in having the possibly-future-monarch of an empire in her debt. She had visited Alek several times in his semi-confinement in England, once with her husband in tow, and kept in touch with Deryn. The boffin continued, "She has been keeping me up to date on its health and behavior."

"While I do mention in Bovril in most of my letters, as it misses her almost as much as I do, I did not think such anecdotes could replace a rigorous examination by its creator."

Dr. Barlow smiled. "The death of its bonded human would ruin my long-term study of the species. So when Deryn wrote that you were dying, I had to intervene."

"So it was for Bovril's sake that you came, then."

The smile dropped from her face. "The death of one friend and the devastation of a second does not carry as much weight with those in power as the potential failure of an important project." Her own voice turned dry. "The fact that you are a monarch favorably disposed to our country also helped. Without such justifications, I could not have commandeered the resources I needed. As it was, it was difficult to convince Doctor Smythe-Barrington to accompany me. He is one of the preeminent medical doctors in Britain, and is in great demand. Really, Alek, I cannot say I am impressed with your Clanker doctors."

Alek remembered that Deryn had said something similar, if less diplomatic; which raised another question.

"Why is Deryn here, doctor, and not in Germany aboard the Leviathan?" And why was she wearing a dress, of all things?

A knowing smile crossed Doctor Barlow's face. "I think I must leave that story to Deryn to tell. Suffice to say, Mr. Sharp has given way to Miss Sharp." Thoughtfully, she added, "It occurs to me that I must call you 'Your Majesty,' or you must call me Nora. Otherwise I would be guilty of the most shocking impropriety." She did not look the least bit shocked, of course.

"Nora, then." Alek frowned. "Deryn calls you that. I hadn't realized you two were so close."

"In addition to our correspondence, we have been spending much of our time together since I arrived. Our mutual concern for you has been another bond."

"How long have you been here, Nora?" Alek asked in surprise. Surely, it hadn't been all that long.

"I have been intruding upon your hospitality for several days, Alek; I hope you don't mind."

A bit flustered, he replied, "You are welcome here whenever you may wish, for as long as you wish. I hope you know that, Doc… Nora."

"Thank you, Alek."

"I hope your husband was not too put out by your coming."

Nora smiled. "He is used to these sudden trips by now. He merely asked, 'Which emperor is it again, dear?' I told him, 'The one who sent you the gorgeous Ottoman vase last year.' He was then quite anxious for your continued good health."

Alek smiled. Sir Alan Barlow was a noted collector of Oriental and Islamic ceramics. "I am glad he appreciated the gift. We Hapsburgs have the collected loot of four centuries fighting the Ottomans; we will not miss one vase."

"I must say, it certainly retrieved my failure to obtain any during our stay in Istanbul."

The door opened and the nurse entered. She turned to Nora, scowling. "You were to inform me the moment he woke up."

Nora was unconcerned. "It has only been a little while."

"Hmph." She repeated the procedure of the previous day; Alek still couldn't tell where the thermometer came from. "I will get the doctor."

Alek did not look forward to another examination by that doctor – Smythe-Barrington, evidently – and was pleasantly surprised when a younger, slighter man entered. He was wearing a bowler hat, so he was a 'boffin' of some sort.

"Alek, this is Doctor Sorenson," Dr. Barlow told him. "He has been apprenticing under Dr. Smythe-Barrington and will take over your treatment, when Dr Smythe-Barrington returns to London."

"At your service," Alek said. The younger doctor doffed his hat and bowed shyly. In a Swedish accent, he said, "Thank you, Your Majesty, but it is I who am at yours."

"Doctor Sorenson is interested in merging Clanker medical technology with Darwinist methods, Alek."

The man nodded eagerly. "What your people have been doing with Roentgen rays is very exciting. We have nothing like it."

Alek had no idea what Roentgen rays were, but he was curious what the Clankers could teach the Darwinists, given the contempt both Nora and Deryn held for his previous doctors. However, his conversation with Nora had tired him, so he made no reply. He would need all his energy just to survive the examination.

Doctor Sorenson was much gentler than the other doctor, but Alek still breathed a sigh of relief when he was finished.

"Ah, Alek, you're awake; much better."

A woman in her early sixties, lavishly dressed, entered the room.

"Grandmama, you're here too?"

The Archduchess and Princess Imperial Maria Theresa of Austria, Princess Royal of Hungary and Bohemia, Infanta of Portugal, smiled. Although stouter and definitely grayer than she had been forty-five years ago, when her beauty had captivated the Imperial Court, she was still a very striking woman; and when she smiled, the wrinkles smoothed away and years melted off her face.

"Where else would I be? I must see to the welfare of my favorite grandchild."

Alek looked down on his still unclothed body and reached down with his right hand to try to pull up the covers. The nurse slapped his hand and pulled up the sheet and blankets halfway up his chest. It would have to do, Alek thought, knowing his step-grandmother had watched the whole thing with a twinkle in her eye. At least Nora had politely looked away. He wondered if, as emperor, he could insist on being dressed; but it didn't seem worth the energy right now.

The nurse had by this time armed herself with another syringe and jabbed it forcefully into his shoulder. It seemed more painful this time and his shoulder continued to ache afterward. Alek wondered if he had hurt overall so much last time that he just hadn't noticed it as much.

When the humiliation was finally finished, he turned his attention back to the older woman. His mind felt as if stuffed with cotton, but he managed come up with something to say. "All of your grandchildren are your favorite."

The Archduchess smiled, but did not deny it. "And your young lady requires a duenna. My apologies, Dr. Barlow, but everyone knows the Darwinists have different standards of propriety in such matters."

"No offence taken." Nora sounded amused.

What young lady, Alek wondered, and what was she doing in his home? She must be of high rank, if grandmama felt the need to chaperone her. In that case, Alek thought it was a good thing the archduchess had come. He did not want to be trapped in a "compromising" situation with some young flower of the nobility, particularly not with Deryn around; that would be embarrassing for him and possibly dangerous for the young lady. Where was Deryn? Ah, yes, she was sleeping. Grandmama and Nora were here; he didn't need Deryn, but he wanted her.

As if drawn by his thoughts, she appeared in the doorway.

Nora sighed. "I had hoped you would sleep longer, Deryn."

"And I had hoped you would come get me when Alek woke, like you barking promised," Deryn snapped, as she entered the room. She was once more wearing a dress, this time a green one rather more flatteringly cut. Her short hair was incongruous in that outfit, but the overall effect was not displeasing; or at least it would be, if she weren't scowling.

"There seemed no point until Doctor Sorenson had completed his examination. Elsbet should be bringing the broth very shortly," she told her, unperturbed. "I think Alek would prefer you to feed it to him."

"Yes, please," Alek said, although he wasn't very hungry. While the confrontation might normally be amusing to observe, he felt too weary to appreciate it right now.

Doctor Sorenson seemed anxious to be escape from the threatening scene. He took a bottle from one of the tables and poured a small amount into a tumbler. "This is for the pain. Please take it once you have eaten."

Alek looked at the glass suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Laudanum; it will help you sleep."

Now that Deryn was there, sleep was the last thing Alek wanted. "The pain is not that bad," he lied. "I will save this for later."

Three females turned their attention to him and he withered under their stern gazes. An emperor he might be, but he knew he was outmatched. With a heavy sigh, he corrected himself, "Or sooner, if I must."

Deryn added sharply, "And you must."

The maid entered with the bowl of broth and Dr. Sorenson used the diversion to make his escape. She looked around, saw who was there, and immediately carried the bowl over to Deryn. Once Deryn had the bowl, the maid curtsied. "Will there be anything else, my lady?"

Alek watched, bemused, as Deryn shook her head. "No, thank you, Elsbet."

Elsbet turned towards the others. She curtsied again. "Your Highness, Frau Doktor." She slipped out through the doorway. Alek suspected she would be waiting just outside, in case she was called again. The servants had always hovered around him annoyingly close; his injury would no doubt make it worse.

Alek smiled when Deryn sat down next to him. "I'm glad you're here," he told her quietly. She gave him a strained smile. He wondered what was wrong. He was about to ask, when she stuck a spoon full of broth into his mouth. He let Deryn spoon-feed him, although it was both annoying and embarrassing, particularly as Nora and Grandmama watched over her shoulders. Finally, tired of this, he tried to sit up; but Deryn immediately pushed his right shoulder back down.

"You'll hurt yourself, Dummkopf," she hissed angrily. "Don't you dare inflame your wound again!"

The vehemence seemed excessive, but Alek was focused on the pain that radiated up and down his left side. "That was stupid," he admitted.

"Aye, you clart-filled…"

"Miss Sharp." The tone of command brought her up short. With a scowl, she turned towards the archduchess. The contest of wills was epic, but Deryn finally turned back to Alek.

She looked duly chastened and, with a sweet and completely unconvincing smile pasted onto her face, said meekly, "I apologize, Your Imperial and Royal Majesty, for my unseemly outburst and completely inappropriate language. I do hope you can forgive such behavior. My only excuse is that I am concerned you might overstrain your body and pull open your stitches, which might lead to a new infection…"

Alek stared at her, wondering who she was and where his Deryn had gotten to.

In a fierce, high-pitched voice, she continued, "…which could barking kill you this time, you clart-filled bum-rag!"

Alek ignored his grandmama's loud sigh and smiled delightedly. "You're back! Please don't go away like that again." In a confiding voice, he told her, "I don't think I like that lady very much."

Deryn looked worried, but Alek couldn't understand why. She put the back of her hand against his forehead.

"He's a squick warm. Elsbet! Please get the nurse."

"Yes, my lady!"

What was the matter? All this confusion was very tiring. It seemed that every part of him ached, but his shoulder throbbed.

"It hurts," he complained.

"I know, love, but it's just for a bit longer. The nurse will look you over and then we'll give you the laudanum."

Alek opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to see Deryn standing over him. At least, he hoped it was her; maybe it was that lady who looked just like her. She was wearing a dress, after all; Deryn hated dresses. Tentatively, he asked, "Deryn?"

"Aye?"

Relief filled him. "Oh, good, it's still you. Please stay," he pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere, you ninny."

Just then, the nurse elbowed her out of the way. She stuck a thermometer into his mouth (where did she keep it?), took his pulse and looked him over. Pulling the thermometer out, she checked it and tsked.

"He's just overtired; why didn't you give him the laudanum? Here, give it to me."

"I'll do it." Someone sat down carefully on the bed.

"Alek?" He opened his eyes to see Deryn holding a tumbler. "You need to drink this."

Obediently, he opened his mouth and she poured it down his throat. The world, which was already fuzzy around the edge, began to lose focus.

"You have to stay," he told her querulously. "I don't want to kiss her, I want to kiss you." He tried to lift his head enough to do just that, but his body wasn't obeying him.

She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I won't let anyone else kiss you, I promise."

Relieved, Alek stopped trying to hold the blackness back, and it swept the world away.

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To be continued

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Chapter Notes:

I am very sorry for leaving Alek hanging on that cliff for so long. I had intended to have the next chapter out in 2-3 days, not a month; but then the chapter decided to be difficult, my copy of Goliath arrived (temporarily derailing things) and Real Life gave me a couple of thwacks upside the head. I expect the next chapter to go more smoothly, but I make no promises, as I don't think Real Life is finished making my life complicated.

You may notice that the rating of the story has been changed. I have been dithering over this for awhile. With the possible exception of one (non-swear) word in Chapter 2, it deserves a rating of 'T'; so that's what I am giving it, with a special warning at the top of Chapter 2. The one chapter that is a definite 'M' will be posted separately. It's not critical to the rest of the story.

In these notes, I mostly write as if Alek actually existed, because it is simpler to call someone "Alek's cousin" than to write "if Alek actually existed, this man would have been his cousin." I really do know that he didn't, in case you were wondering.

The Archduchess and Princess Imperial Maria Theresa of Austria, etc, was the stepmother of Alek's father, and so would not strictly be Alek's grandmother; but close enough. She was the only family member who supported Franz Ferdinand in his marriage to Sophie Chotek; and she supported his brother, Ferdinand Karl, after he was expelled from the family (and the country) for marrying an actual commoner (not just a mere countess), Bertha Czuber. I assume she would both treat Deryn kindly and insist that she needed a chaperone (or duenna).

Roentgen rays are another name for x-rays, named after Wilhelm Conrad Roentgen, who discovered them, and is the preferred term in some countries (including Germany). The work that has Dr. Sorenson (who is an entirely fabricated character, as is Smythe-Barrington) so excited is x-ray tomography, which can create 3D pictures of internal structures. In our world, this was invented in the 1930s; modern tomography uses computers to combine the images into a 3D picture, which is then called a CT or CAT scan.

Now we know why Scott only ever translated the first half of the Hapsburg motto before. It annoyed me quite a bit at the time. It's worth pointing out that it was meant quite literally, as it was through profitable marriages (starting with Maximilian I's marriage to Mary the Rich, heiress of Burgundy, in 1477) that the Hapsburgs prospered.