You Must Remember This

Chapter Four: O, Tidings of Comfort and Joy

24th of December, 1814

The first thing she saw was light and the first sensation was a pain that sliced through her eyelids even after she closed them. She turned her head to her right, away from the source, hissing out a deep breath before she dared open them again. At least it was soft under her. She must be in bed. She wasn't sure if it was her bed. She actually couldn't work out what would make a bed hers or not hers.

The only thing she knew for certain was that she was in a bed and not alone. Once her eyes adjusted she made out a figure next to her, a girl curled up on top of the covers, wearing a wrinkled dress and shivering in her sleep.

She glanced over the girl at the fireplace. It seemed the fire had died. She should get up and make it live again, but she wasn't certain how she might do that. She supposed she should at least share her covers as there were several on her. She moved to lift some onto the girl, but her hand was not moving, no matter how she pulled

She didn't want to turn to her left again, with all that light, but she would never find out what had trapped her hand if she didn't. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head quickly, as if to get it over with, but that caused a new pain to join the one throbbing behind her eyes. This one was sharp and agonizing. It felt like someone had driven a spike into the side of her head.

She tried to lift her hand to investigate if that was the case, but her hand was still trapped... possibly because there was a man holding it, she now realized as her eyes cleared. At her slight movement, he held on harder, mumbling something about roast beef. His head was turned away, but it seemed he was asleep as well, and in a very precarious position, his head on the bed next to their joined hands and the rest of him ready to slide off the chair his bottom was perched on.

She really should tell him before he ended up on the floor, but when she opened her mouth all that came out was a rusty squeak, then a choking cough. The sound seemed to rouse him but, as he popped his head up he, indeed, fell to his bottom on the floor.

She peeked over the side of the bed, ignoring the ache in her head. As her eyes seemed to have adjusted to the light, it was slightly more tolerable. "I did fear that might happen," she said, or rather croaked. "Are you hurt?"

"Am I hurt?" he gasped, rising to his feet and gaping at her, raking a hand roughly through his hair. "Pen!"

She found herself gaping as well. He was quite tall. And handsome. Her stomach fluttered, then it growled... quite loudly. She started to apologize, but the tall man didn't seem offended, what with the way he had fallen upon her, squeezing her arms and touching her face, babbling all the while.

"I cannot believe it. It is a Christmas miracle! Oh, Pen! We've waited so long. And you talked! I knew that blighter was wrong. Doesn't even deserve to call himself a doctor! God, Pen!" He gripped her hand again and she felt that fluttering intensify, and her heart beating apace. There was something about him that felt... important somehow.

She turned her head at a loud groan.

"Could you please be quiet? Some of us are trying to..." The girl, just as pretty as the handsome man, trailed off when she looked her way, also gaping. "Pen!"

Either that was her name or they both quite desperately needed something to write with.

"I can't believe it!" That seemed to be a resounding sentiment. "We thought you might never—" The girl frowned. "Are you hungry, thirsty? God, it's cold in here! I should light you a fire or get some more blankets or a... a DOCTOR!" She jumped off the bed and fled out the door, her voice echoing in the hall. "Mr. Dorset! She's awake!"