There and Back Again Ch. 023-024

Chapter Twenty-Three: Murphy's Law

I woke up back in the ICU, sandwiched between beds of patients with every tube imaginable in them. When I did my personal inventory this time, I found a few more tubes than I normally had to contend with. I had an IV, but it exited from just below my collarbone, instead of from a hand or arm as usual. I couldn't see it, but there were a lot more attachments on it too. I sat up carefully and noticed a catheter - the bag was empty - and another IV in my opposite hand. I also had a tube going up my nose, which constantly made me feel like I needed a Kleenex, and seemed also to be making my throat tickle. As I looked around I realised I had a gaggle of monitors, most of which were portable on individual wheeled stands, and very few of which I could comprehend. I was almost afraid to know what had been going on with my body while I was away.

A nurse bustling by gave a high pitched squeak when she saw me sitting upright, pulling angrily on the tube in my nose. She pushed my hands away, but it was too late - the stupid thing was out, and after a moment of coughing and gagging I felt much better. She confirmed I had been unconscious again for a couple of weeks, but was deliberately vague on any other details. She was definitely antsy, and finally ran off to get the doctor without telling me anything.

I was contemplating trying to change into my own clothes again, wondering what to do with the tube near my collar bone, when the doctor arrived. He looked ten years older than he had the last time I'd seen him. His smile when he saw me was entirely fake, and it occurred to me that he might be feeling responsible for whatever strangeness my body had been going through the past two weeks.

He confirmed for me that I'd been out for two weeks, which seemed about right although I'd forgotten to keep track exactly in Ferelden. Apparently I'd been causing some problems, and had managed to destroy a variety of hospital equipment twice since the last time I'd been awake. He didn't phrase it like that, citing electrical surges and power outages, but it had now happened three times, in various parts of the hospital, always to equipment near me. Unfortunately, I'd never been hooked up to an EEG monitor when it happened - I wondered what the pattern would have looked like. The hospital, unable to figure out what was happening, had put me in an isolation ward, where I stayed until the day before.

I ended up back in the ICU because, out of the blue, the day before I woke up, blood had started fountaining randomly out of my arm. Apparently my blood pressure had dropped, and I lost more than a litre of blood onto the floor, but when they finally got to examining me, could find no source for the bleeding. Worried that it would happen again, they put me back in the ICU with all the monitors and the new IV - apparently called a 'central line'. The line could allow someone to monitor my blood pressure at the same time as giving medications or fluid or whatever, and could stay in place for a long time, instead of needing to be changed every few days like the one in my hand.

The tube in my nose was apparently a source of contention. Some other doctor who'd been called in to help out when I started bleeding everywhere found out that I'd been in a 'coma' for two weeks without being fed and had a fit, forcing the issue and getting hospital administration involved, until finally the tube was inserted to provide me with food until I woke. My doctor felt it was unnecessary, because like before, I had lost only a tiny amount of weight, hadn't needed to pee, and wasn't showing any sign of malnourishment. Even after all the bleeding, the lab could find nothing abnormal in my blood. I wondered why I was still hungry in Ferelden while I was being fed at home. Maybe healing means I needed more food than usual?

I showed him the new scar on my forearm, explaining that I had been injured in my dream. I didn't tell him about the templar thing, but implied that I was aware the monitor outages were probably my fault, claiming a long-standing "anti-technology" issue that broke computers and watches all the time. Knowing I might not have long before blacking out again, we decided quickly for me to do the paperwork refusing tube feeds and other procedures unless my lab work said that I was becoming malnourished, or otherwise ill. I asked about removing the central line, but he convinced me to leave it, and just detach all the tubes feeding into it, so that I wouldn't need another if the problem happened again. I also signed paperwork refusing a catheter. Worst case scenario, they'd have to deal with me in adult diapers, but I was getting sick of tubes going into and coming out of my bladder. I told him I thought he should keep me out of the ICU unless I was actually dying. He agreed, though wasn't sure how enforceable that would be if I started spewing blood everywhere again.

Once that was done, I begged leave to take a shower, and he agreed to ask the nurses to arrange that once I'd been transferred to a different room, yet again. He encouraged me to see the lawyer as soon as possible assuming I stayed awake long enough, and was getting ready to leave as the world swam and I collapsed down onto the bed.

"No! Not dressed like this!" My last view was of my nearly naked body, wearing only a tiny hospital gown, and the kind doctor's face, frowning in consternation.

********

I woke up in Thedas, somewhere. I was barefoot, and wearing a skimpy, short hospital gown. My ass was hanging out in the breeze. Wonderful. It occurred to me, for possibly the first time, that there was no guarantee I'd be somewhere useful. I'd been lucky so far, always ending up close to where I wanted to be, but I could be anywhere, really. In a hospital gown. Good God. I was surrounded by fields of mostly thick grasses, no signs of habitation anywhere. I couldn't decide if that made me more or less likely to be raped until I found some clothes and figured out where I was.

I tied the gown at the back as best as I was able, then tried to decide what to do. There were some larger trees a few hundred yards away, and I decided to head towards them - maybe I could find myself a stick as a weapon, and at least find some cover so I'd be less likely to be discovered by anyone. I picked my way across the field, very conscious of my lack of shoes. I couldn't afford a foot injury, so being careful meant it took me a lot longer to reach the trees. It was a small stand of trees, not a forest, but I found a decent branch that I thought would work as a walking stick and a basic staff if necessary. Still not seeing anything else useful, my next thought was to climb a tree and see if I could figure out where I was from a higher elevation. One of the trees near me was a huge, old, gnarled thing, and was tall enough to be useful. It had several smaller trees leaning against it or standing near it, which gave me additional hand and footholds.

At home, I'd always been overweight, no matter how hard I tried, but despite that I was quite adept at tree climbing as a child. In this body, it was a simple matter to haul myself up into the lower branches and scramble up the massive trunk. When I was maybe twenty feet up, I cleared the tops of most of the other trees around, and was able to get a bit of a look - more fields, more trees. I went a little higher, and suddenly realised that in the distance, there was a rather regular break in the monotony that continued as far as I could see in both directions. A roadway? The closest point to me was maybe a couple of kilometres, far enough to be annoying but near enough to walk. Lacking any other noticeable landmarks, I looked down to choose trees to help me navigate once I hit the ground.

Unfortunately, while climbing the tree enabled me to look around, apparently it had also highlighted me as well. While searching for ways to know which direction to head, I noticed movement off towards the road. Over a few moments it came closer until it became obvious that it was a group of people, headed in my direction. They weren't anyone I knew, and they were coming fast. I debated climbing down to retrieve my stick, but decided that staying in the tree gave me better protection in case those approaching didn't have my best interests at heart.

My hopes for a dashing rescue came crashing down as I got a close up view of those that had surrounded the base of the tree. There were perhaps ten of them, all men, most looking decidedly unsavoury. They were all armoured, though their gear appeared to be piecemeal, none of it matching. They approached the base of the tree I clung to.

"What have we here, boys? Looks like we treed ourselves some entertainment for later. A gift, if you will, and look - we barely even need to unwrap it!" The group of them laughed, and I sighed. Nice going, Sierra, jinx yourself by wondering about being raped.

"Come on down, missy! We won't hurt you none. We was just wanting to get to know you a little!" There was a general chorus of agreement, mixed in with a variety of catcalls. Apparently chauvinist pigs say the same things in any world. I wondered how long I had before one or more tried coming up after me.

"I think I'll just stay up here, if it's all the same to you." There were some jeers, and I could see the atmosphere of the men below get nastier. They pulled into a circle, whispering amongst themselves, clearly trying to come up with a plan.

I started looking up, evaluating the branches above my head. There were some...an idea started to form. I climbed a little ways down, holding on above myself, which put me into a fairly provocative pose. I ignored the flush of embarrassment, and lifted one leg, dropping it back down onto the branch I stood on. From below, I heard some more catcalls, as one or two of the men noticed and somehow seemed to think I was giving them a show. I was fine with that interpretation as long as it kept them down there a while longer. I stomped down again, heard a soft crack, and felt my weight shift subtly. I used my arms and swung up onto the next highest branch, giving the rabble below a glimpse of forbidden territory. I repeated the same 'dance', until that branch also started to crack. Again and again I did the same thing, climbing higher with each step, until I was a good fifteen feet higher than where I'd started. The show was losing its appeal due to repetition, but as yet none of them had caught on to my true intent.

Finally dissatisfied, and having no luck convincing me to come down, the group elected one of their members to try to come up. He was a balding, ugly, mean looking man, but he appeared to be in good shape and I didn't think he'd have any more trouble climbing than I did. Fortunately for me, he looked a great deal taller and generally larger than I was, and I just had to hope I'd done enough. I shimmied a little further up the tree, now clinging to the trunk and distributing my weight across multiple smaller branches. I watched Baldy's progress with trepidation as he reached the lowest branches that I had 'danced' on.

He reached up to grab the branch, and it broke off in his hand, like I'd hoped. He swore, swinging wildly, and almost fell. Finally righting himself, he inched around the tree to try again. The next branch held as he grabbed it, but when he tried to shift his entire weight onto it, it also released, breaking off right at the join to the trunk. He became more cautious after his second near-miss, and found each branch he could reach similarly weakened. I actually grinned in relief that my plan had worked, and he caught the expression. He started swearing at me, then called down to his friends.

"This bitch weakened the branches! I can't climb any further." He tried a couple more times to scale the trunk directly, but had no luck. Finally he climbed back down to regroup. I stayed put, although I did break off one nearby long branch, which wasn't strong enough to hold me, but I hoped would work as a club if a needed it. I waited.

They elected another guy to try to climb, and I saw that he had some sort of rope over his shoulder as he came. I didn't think he'd be capable of throwing the rope over a reliable branch, but readied my makeshift club just in case. As he slowly climbed, I looked out over the horizon again, hoping for something I could use, someone who might aid me. That was when I noticed a small bird, circling high overhead. It seemed like too much to ask, but I had to try.

"Morrigan!" I screamed as loud as I could managed, startling the men below. "Morrigan, is that you? Help!" I was rewarded by seeing the distant creature circle lower towards me. I cried out in relief as a familiar black bird finally landed in a tree nearby. "Hey, any way you could help? I'm sort of stuck up here now that I've broken the branches. I don't suppose you have a bigger form that flies, like Flemeth? Carry me out of here?" The bird chattered, and tilted its head curiously. "I'll take that as a no. Where are the others? Could you get them?" The bird made another noise and took off.

My conversation was noted by the men below, but if anything they seemed to find it funny. Personally, understanding Ferelden even as poorly as I did, I would have been wary of someone talking to an unnaturally large bird. I'd guess no one ever accused these guys of being the sharpest knives in the drawer. I returned my attention to the man who had finally reached the bare portion of the tree, where the branches had broken. My assumption that he would attempt to use the rope to throw over a branch was apparently misplaced, and instead he passed it around the trunk of the tree, grasping both ends while pushing against the tree with his booted feet. Crap, he's seen Mulan? Damn you Disney!

He was able to slowly creep up the bare tree trunk, having to pause every couple of steps to jerk the rope up. I prayed for a while that the rope would fray or break, but it didn't seem likely. His progress was very, very slow, but there was no mistaking that it was progress. I realised that I was going to have to resort to actively trying to knock the guy out of the tree, a fall that would likely kill him if I was successful. The thought of actually killing a person made me queasy - it was one thing to kill darkspawn and demons and abominations, entirely another to murder a human. I tried convincing myself that self-defense wasn't murder, but I didn't totally believe myself. Kill or be killed was not the culture I was raised in!

I decided to try to deter him instead. I carefully slid down a couple of branches, and then using my club, reached down further to bonk him on the head, firmly but not viciously.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you make me. I have friends on the way who won't take kindly to this, and they have no such qualms about killing would-be rapists. Why don't you just climb back down, take your friends, and go?"

"Stupid bitch. If you had friends coming, we'd know about it. There's nobody around for miles. You might as well give it up - we will have our fun, one way or t'other, and if you stop fighting, you'll probably survive."

Pissed off, and worried by his certainty that no one was near, I bashed him with my stick again. Unfortunately for him, his face was tilted up to look at me, and so I got him square in the nose. He swore again as blood poured down his face, and I heard more angry grumbles from below. I wasn't sure I could stomach purposefully hitting him in the face anymore, so I switched to attacking his hands, hoping if I harried him enough he'd give up. I reached down, swatting at his hands, the rough broken end of the stick scratching and cutting his exposed skin, and he swore some more.

"What, did you really expect me to just give up? You're not that smooth a talker, friend."

I continued to jab at his hands, and at one point managed to snag the rope, dropping him a sudden couple of feet before he regained his grip. Stubbornly trying again, he climbed back into reach. Seeing that the superficial injuries I was able to inflict on his hands weren't enough, I switched back to attacking his head. He was smarter this time and didn't look up, but I got a good couple of smacks in that must have left him reeling.

Just then I heard shouting, and looked down to see the men below pointing. They all started grabbing for weapons, when finally I saw movement through the copse of trees. I was blinded by sunlight glinting off a shield, heard a familiar battle cry, and suddenly Alistair was charging at the group of men. Aedan might have tried to talk them down, but Alistair got there first. He rammed into the front line, shield first, literally bashing a couple of men across the clearing to crumple on the ground. They didn't get up. The rest of my friends entered the fray, and it took mere seconds before all of my would-be attackers threw down their weapons begging for mercy.

The man halfway up the tree watched in dismay at this turn of events, but was distracted suddenly by a large, black bird diving at his face. With his hands occupied, Morrigan got in a couple of good pecks as he screamed. Losing his ability to reason entirely, he finally let go of the rope to protect his face. I shrieked as he fell, looking away before he hit the ground. The squishy sounding thud as he landed was something I thought would stay with me for a long time. Trying not to cry, I clung to the tree and scrunched my eyes shut. Morrigan landed nearby, chirping at me curiously.

"Sierra? Are you okay?" Aedan called up from below.

"Uh, yeah. I suppose I am. I think I'm probably stuck up here, though."

Aedan's voice sounded vaguely amused. "Andraste's Ass, girl, what are you wearing? And why in the Maker's name are you in a tree?"

I sighed. "Look. If you could all just turn away, and perhaps Morrigan could bring me up a length of rope? I'll climb down and tell you everything."

Looking down, I saw most of my friends looking up at me with concern, with the exception of Alistair who had his back to me. His neck was purple, and I guessed his face would be too; I wondered how much he'd seen before he looked away, and then I was blushing more too.

"Uh...the rope is back in the cart. Hang on, let's see if these louts have got any they'd like to donate as a sign of good faith."

There was some cursing, and Alistair punched someone, but shortly another nice long bit of rope was found. Aedan shrugged off his cloak to leave on the ground at the foot of the tree, and then they herded the captives away from the tree and across the clearing, forcing them to look away at the point of a blade. Satisfied that I wasn't going to be spied upon, I asked Morrigan politely to bring me up the rope, and she flew down, grabbed one end in her claws, and dropped it into my waiting hand. I quickly tied it around myself, improvising a rough harness, then looped it over a couple of sturdy branches. Grabbing the other end, I slowly belayed myself down the bare section of tree trunk, then climbed down the rest of the way once I reached branches again.

Resolutely avoiding looking at the broken body that had fallen from the tree, I wrapped Aedan's cloak around myself and then called to the others. Morrigan changed shape, and stood beside me; I pulled her into a fierce hug. Thanking her profusely, I blinked away the tears that threatened to spill. Aedan, Alistair, Wynne, and Leliana walked up, leaving Sten guarding the captives. I wanted to hug each of them, but was mortified at my state of undress and so I refrained.

Aedan quirked an eyebrow at me, glancing at where his cloak covered my near-nakedness.

"Yeah, yeah. I will explain. At home...well, I've told you they're keeping my body in a building where the doc...healers can look after it? This is what they make people wear in those places, so that the clothing isn't in the way if they need to heal something, and so they don't ruin anyone's clothes by getting blood or whatever on them."