Nature or Nurture Ch. 02

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A Penny Dreadful fanfiction.
1.7k words
4.33
9.4k
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Part 2 of the 42 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 12/07/2015
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Seeing this young girl appear seemingly out of nowhere and fearlessly holding his crazed and bleeding progeny in her arms stirs the other man to life as well. He comes out of his hiding place, watching the scene unfold before him with bewilderment.

Where did that girl come from? Why isn't she scared out of her mind by his frenzied creation, screaming his birth-pains out covered in blood? And most of all, is his secret out?

With his limited experience with people he has little idea how to handle the situation, so he just stands there, waiting and watching.

Meanwhile, the bloody creature is silent, though from the look in his eyes Adison can see his physical pain is not lessened. He is just holding it inside, suspicious of her she thinks, and not willing to show his weakness.

Actually, he is just stunned by everything that has happened. He has just been born in incredible pain and a welter of blood, and the person who has caused him to be has fled from his agony and frenzy in fear and rejection. And this strange person comes out of nowhere in response to his pain and fearlessly holds him close to her, to comfort him in his most vulnerable moment.

For some time, nothing changes. Adison holds the bleeding man close, giving him what reassurance she can. When she feels him becoming heavier, giving up the cramped pose of suspicion, or extreme pain, she starts to look around for a bed to put him in and see what really ails him, maybe dress those wounds. She sees the scared man observing her, not so much scared anymore as holding back, maybe thinking of a way to take control of the situation and his attic.

'Can you please tell me where this patient's bed is, so we can help him back into it?' Adison asks the man, probably the doctor in charge.

The man points his head at a bare table, set at working height, more suitable to dissecting a corpse or dressing a steak than nursing a sick man. Besides being uncomfortable, it's covered in blood. 'That is not suitable for an injured man to rest in', she says, 'it needs to be comfortable and clean, lest his wounds go bad.'

Incredibly, the doctor just nods and walks out, presumably to fetch a softer, cleaner pallet. Adison looks back at her charge, who seems in less pain already through her steady presence. He watches her, not in a frightened way but with hunger in his eyes, as if she has already given him something he craves, but wants, nay, needs, more of the same. No problem for Adison.

She holds him and even manages to stroke his poor shaven head. The awful wounds and the blood covering it don't matter to her, nor the intense yellow eyes that keep staring at her. She holds him where he is not hurt, and gives what comfort she can to this helpless wild creature.

When the doctor returns, indeed dragging a makeshift pallet behind him, Adison lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. After all, she is in the man's house without invitation, and somebody did horrible things to a strong man apparently in his prime. It may very well have been the doctor.

Sitting on the pallet with her back to the wall, with the injured man settled comfortably in her lap, she witnesses exhaustion slowly taking hold of him. He is still watching her, but wariness and hunger have left his eyes. Weariness has taken over.

There is still some pain there, but that is to be expected. It seems that he trusts her enough to mostly let go of his consciousness, and Adison is determined to deserve that trust. Also, she is very curious whether the doctor really is a doctor, and if he will throw her out of the house or let her stay with the victim.

Patiently, Adison holds the solidly built man and gently caresses his shaven head and damaged body until he finally closes his eyes and falls asleep. His breathing is regular and his body is relaxed, the wounds have finally stopped bleeding. They need cleaning and dressing, but for now she relishes the quiet.

The doctor breaks the silence first.

'Good day, Miss ....'

'Adison', Adison fills in.

'Good day to you Miss Adison, my name is Victor. I was very surprised to see you turn up at this particular place and time.'

Adison does still realize she practically broke in to his home.

'I live next door, and when I heard your patient scream in agony I used the fire-door on impulse. I hope you don't mind.'

'No, I must thank you for saving the situation. You see I'm not used to living patients, I'm a doctor of pathology, I study the deceased to learn how bodies work. Having such a lively specimen around frightened me enough to flee the room. I was sure he'd kill me in his frenzy.

The consequences might have been disastrous.'

With this new knowledge Adison looks at the man in her lap with different eyes: the slashes over his body closely resemble the cuts she knows a pathologist would make to examine a corpse. It also explains the sloppy suturing, for a corpse has no blood flow to staunch. But why would the doctor cut open a man still living?

First she answers the doctor.

'The consequences may still be disastrous, for those wounds were not sutured well or they wouldn't bleed. They'll need extreme care or they'll fester and scar horribly and disfigure him for life.'

Now the doctor seems to be getting really uncomfortable, and the reason for this soon becomes clear.

'I need to go to an appointment right now, can I leave you here with him and explain the situation when I get back? Can I trust you to not betray my secret?'

Adison considers the situation and replies, 'I will keep your secret, though I don't even know what it is, on one condition: I'm a trained nurse and I want you to let me dress this man's wounds and stay with him until he is out of danger.'

'That is very agreeable to me' the doctor says, almost relieved, 'I'll even pay you for your services, my expertise is clearly with the dead, not the living. And I'll bring you both some food when I return.'

With this he grabs a bag from a table and practically runs down a stairs at the back of the attic. Leaving Adison alone with a man she has never met before, who was howling at a storm in a frenzy not half an hour ago. But Adison doesn't feel threatened, she already feels a strong connection to her new patient and she makes herself comfortable holding him as close as she can until the doctor returns.

Her nature cries out against the story the doctor tells her, realizing his total disregard of God and guessing at the arrogance needed to drive a man to cross the boundary of death with science. Still it is hard for her to fault him for his actions, or her patient for being what he is.

She can imagine the doctor feeling lonely, being young and full of life, and spending all his time with dead people. She can imagine him constructing a companion for life out of the people he knows and loves best, the deceased, and finding a way to bring life to him.

And she cannot fault the resulting man for crying out in the pain of his birth, and threatening to hurt the man who caused him such pain when he brought him to life and then rejected him out of fear of his strong feelings and passions. With her love of people en nature, everything in her cries out against this travesty of life and friendship, but the same love makes her forgive the perpetrator, and love the victim.

Now settled in the attic of the doctor's house, Adison cares for his progeny. What at first sight she took for slashes are actually much deeper cuts, penetrating far into the tissue, wounds that would take weeks to heal even with expert sutures in healthy flesh that hasn't been dead for weeks.

And though the doctor's art was brilliant enough to cheat death and bring his subject back to life, it clearly involved a lightning strike, very damaging to the nerves and excruciatingly painful to its victim.

A challenge for anyone dedicated to healing, and very well suited to Adison. She brings over some of her Chinese herbs to help her fight infections, and sets to work.

During the task of cleaning and dressing his wounds, the wounded man wakes up from his exhausted sleep and even seems quite lucid. Adison, feeling it is time to think of him by name instead of condition, but supposing he doesn't remember anything before his death, introduces herself.

'How do you do, sir, my name is Adison', she says in a quiet, friendly voice, 'what is your name?'

As she expects, her patient is confused by her question, not able to recall a name and more childlike in his reactions than anything else.

'Would you like me to give you a name?' she asks. He continues to stare at her with those weird eyes, silently. Slowly he nods, clearly understanding her. Adison has spent some time contemplating a name for this strong yet feeling man and she makes her suggestion, hoping it will please him. 'What would you think of Vincent? With so much strength in you, you may need a friendly name'.

While he is contemplating the name, Adison starts to clean the cut on his temple that gives her the most worry. The sutures have almost parted here, making the wound gape, and the edges look inflamed already. She hopes her skills will be enough to prevent further infection, but scarring will be inevitable. Her charge undergoes the treatment quietly, though it must hurt quite a bit. His nerves must also still be raw from the lightning strike.

He looks up at her as if he means to speak, and her heart skips a beat.

'Vincent', an unexpected voice says.

He has no more words to speak yet, but he looks content. She does not suppress her sudden impulse to hold him close, and why should she? He has only just been born.

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