"He's going to be ok. We've just given him something to help him sleep. We were able to remove almost the entire tumor. I would have gone for all of it, but part of it was dangerously close to his brain for me to attempt to remove," Dr. Elliot said as he brought Eddie back to the room.

"And the radiation should help with the piece that you had to leave in?" I asked, stepping up to the side of Eddie's bed.

His head was swathed with a bandage. Trailing from underneath was a clear tube to drain off any fluid from the surgery site. Putting my hand on his, I shivered at how cold and clammy his skin felt.

"Yes. The radiation should kill off any cancer cells remaining, as well as shrink the remaining piece. What we did remove has already been sent off to the hospital lab for analysis. We should have the results back in a few days. In the meantime, we'll be running more tests on him to make certain that his brain is functioning correctly."

Silence settled over the room as I watched him sleep, gently running my fingers over his face. With him asleep, it was easier for me to let myself cry. As I stood there, I shook with silent sobs, my tears falling on the blanket that covered his motionless body.

"I need to check on some other patients, but I'll be back in a couple of hours to check on him."

"Doctor?"

"Yes?" he said, sounding as if he expected me to ask something he did not yet know the answer for.

"Thank you." I turned to face him, holding Eddie's hand in mine. "For everything you've done for him so far."

~ ~ ~

Dr. Elliot left the room, walking down the hall, away from the strange couple. He wasn't certain how long Mrs. Wynne would be thanking him once he came back to talk to her. As he had been scrubbing up after surgery, he received a call he had been waiting for on Arthur Wynne's blood work. While there was a heavy amount of morphine in his blood from the painkiller, there were also traces of some odd chemicals. The chemicals, after further testing, were found to be from some very powerful anti-psychotic drugs, some of them experimental.

Nowhere in his charts was there a mention of any psychological problems. While he was operating, Nurse Machado had called Dr. Zhuang's office, but the doctor herself claimed no knowledge of any of the drugs. Dr. Elliot needed to find out why his patient was taking such drugs, not only to know if they would interact with any of the drugs Mr. Wynne would need to take, but also if the man still needed them.

Before he confronted the woman with his questions, he would give her some time alone with her husband.

~ ~ ~

Eddie woke up for a short while, and asked for a drink. I had never been so happy to see his green eyes as I was while I held the cup of juice and straw for him to sip through. I teased him that he would probably have preferred a nice scotch rather than apple juice. He managed a little smile before slipping back to sleep. While he slept, I dabbed a small amount of Vaseline on his lips, chapped from the drugs.

As long as I wasn't actually disturbing Eddie, the nurses allowed me to remain. Though he was barely coherent, I played some soft classical music for him, and read the clues to the crossword puzzle we hadn't finished. Soon enough, I found myself slumped against Eddie, asleep with my head on his shoulder.

"Mrs. Wynne?"

"Hm?" I asked sleepily, raising my head.

"Mrs. Wynne, you've been in here all day with nothing to eat. Come with me and we'll have a snack," Dr. Elliot said.

"I'm not hungry, thanks," I replied, straightening Eddie's blankets. He slept on.

"Then at least have a cup of coffee or tea. Let Mr. Wynne rest. He'll be fine for a half hour."

My mind struggled with the decision. I really was hungry, but couldn't bring myself to leave Eddie's side in case he woke. I looked at him, my brows knitting in worry. In my mind, I heard him tell me to stop fussing over him, and get something to eat. Reluctantly, I nodded. I wasn't happy, but I felt I had to obey Eddie on this. Tugging on one of Eddie's shirts for a jacket, I softly kissed his brow, and then followed the doctor to the hospital commissary.

The good doctor insisted on buying me a sandwich, along with a cup of tea. I sat silently, picking at the food after we settled at the table in the almost empty dining room. Dr. Elliot sat across from me, sipping his coffee and cracking his neck.

"I have to admit, Mrs. Wynne, that I had an ulterior motive in asking you to come have a snack with me." He chuckled lightly as I froze, staring harder at my sandwich. "I need to talk to you, Mrs. Wynne."

"It's about Arthur, isn't it?" I asked, struggling to remember to call him by his assumed name. I tore at the bread, fighting back the tears that threatened to come again at the thought of Eddie lying in a hospital bed.

"He seems to be doing fine so far. We'll continue to monitor him over the next forty-eight hours. I don't see why he wouldn't pull through just fine. What I want to talk to you about is the medicines he's been taking."

I shrugged, unconcerned. "Dr. Zhuang prescribed that painkiller. I worry about him getting addicted to the morphine in it," I admitted.

"Those aren't the drugs I'm talking about. You have to know about the ones I'm talking about, Mrs. Wynne. His blood analysis showed residuals of anti-psychotic drugs. Some of those drugs are listed as experimental."

I flinched, as if slapped. His voice had started to sound like Dr. Matthiessen's at the moments the doctor would get angry that I wasn't talking to him. My shoulders slumped, and I pulled my feet onto the chair with me, wrapping the shirt tighter around my body. I focused on the sandwich, willing everything else to go away.

"Mrs. Wynne, you need to tell me why he was taking those medications, and if he still needs them. It's very important."

Now I started rocking back and forth. There was absolutely no way I could tell the doctor about the drugs. Doing so would expose Eddie and me, something I was not going to do. Besides, I had promised him I wouldn't give away his secret, and I meant to keep that promise. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself, unfolding myself as I looked up at him.

"He doesn't need them. He never needed them."

"Then why was he taking them? Doctors don't just go handing stuff like that out like candy."

The bitter laughter that came out of me surprised us both. Neither of us was expecting my reaction. Shaking my head, I continued to chuckle. I could remember more occasions than I wanted to where the doctors had forced us to take medications, drugging us whether we wanted, or needed, with whatever new pill or shot they had. It was common practice at Arkham, and rarely ever documented in files that were seen outside the asylum.

"They don't, do they? Oh, Dr. Elliot, how wrong you are. How very wrong you are," I said softly, a growl edging my words. "For a brain surgeon, you don't know much, do you?" Leaning across the table, I shook my head at him again. "Why he was on them is not for me to tell you. Ask him yourself when he wakes up. He might tell you, he might not. But do not ask me to tell you his secrets. I do not betray his confidence, and you would be wise to remember that. Thank you for the sandwich."

Pushing myself away from the table, I left Dr. Elliot staring after me. That he would ask me such a thing infuriated me! How dare he come to me for answers that weren't mine to give! If I had learned one thing from Eddie, it was that you never give anyone an answer unless they need it. Even then, the rule could be adjusted. Eddie had been very specific about his rules. No one was to know who he was. He had given me permission to deal with anyone who uncovered his identity how I saw fit.

Storming back into his room, I pulled my chair back up to his bedside. There was no way I could stop the tears of frustration that now coursed down my face. To comfort myself, I placed a hand over Eddie's heart, watching as my hand rose and fell with his breathing. I didn't know what to do. On one hand, I knew that the information could be important to Dr. Elliot. On the other, Eddie would never forgive me if I told the doctor about Arkham. I was also worried that if he learned who we really were, he would call the cops and have us taken back to Gotham. There was no way I was going to let Eddie rot in Arkham, knowing they would do as little as possible to treat him.

"Mrs. Wynne?"

"Go away," I said, burying my face in the folds of Eddie's hospital gown.

"Mrs. Wynne, you have every right to be upset. I'm not asking you these questions in order for you to betray his confidence. As his doctor, I should have been told."

I didn't answer, choosing to stroke Eddie's chest instead.

"Very well, Mrs. Wynne. I'll wait to ask him. Should you change your mind, you know how to contact me."

The door closed as he let himself out. I lifted my head and looked at Eddie. Though he had dark bags under his eyes, he looked peaceful as he slept. His comfort was all that mattered. Curling my feet onto the chair, I pulled his arm around my shoulders. Laying my head on the edge of the bed, I soon fell asleep myself.
Next / The Beast Within / Back