Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ For Want of a Nail ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 2

John stared at the open door. He decided to try and explore a little. Besides, he felt that he needed to find a bathroom to relieve himself. He then thought with embarrassment and disgust how Sarah probably had also cleaned up after him.

He pulled the covers back and brought his legs off the bed. His feet touched the cool wooden floor. His muscles didn't feel too stiff so John assumed that Sarah moved his limbs around for him while he had been unconscious. He heaved himself up and staggered onto his feet. He clutched the bedpost then let go as he tottered over to the doorway. He grabbed the doorframe and looked down the hall. It only went to the left because to the right it was a dead-end right next to the door. Down the length of the hallway were doors.

`Must be the other patients,' John thought.

He looked down at himself and thought, `I am NOT going out in only boxers!'

He turned around and scanned the room for anything. He spotted a small closet and made his way there. He opened the closet to find some sort of black uniform folded and put aside in the corner. There was also a pair of green pants. But he found both were bloodstained and thought that it would be uncomfortable in that uniform, although the green pants seemed okay. He knew it had to have been his since the right sleeve of the uniform was missing to allow his mechanical arm through. He put those back and closed the closet. He went back to the bed and pulled the thin sheet from off of it, put it around his shoulders and grabbed the sheet closed so no one could see anything. He tottered back to the door and made it out into the hallway. A few of the doors were open so he decided to ask the occupants of those rooms for directions to the bathroom.

He rapped on an open door with his left hand and poked a head in to see a couple of young girls playing cards. They looked up and had a quizzical expression on their faces.

"Sorry to bother you, but do you know where the bathroom is?" John asked with a slight smile.

"Uh huh! Go straight down the hall and take a left at the end. It'll be the first door you see," replied a girl with curly brown hair. She couldn't have been more than five years old. The other girl who had straight sandy blonde hair just looked up shyly at him with a smile.

He smiled at the two girls and said, "Thanks." He went down the hall as instructed, hearing them giggle as he left.

After he was done with "business" he decided to head back to his room since Sarah said "a few minutes" and didn't want her to get worried if she returned to an empty room. Besides, he was already getting tired.

As he walked back down the hall to his room, he spotted the two girls again. They were now playing with a wooden doll and an old child's tea set that was missing parts, the ancient china was chipped and cracked. They looked up when they heard his footsteps and smiled at him.

"Sir, what is your name?" asked the curly brown haired girl.

John paused in his walking and was silent for a moment.

"John," he finally answered. "And what are your names?"

"Mine is Brittany and this is Lindsey," replied the curly haired girl as she chucked her thumb back at the sandy haired blonde, now known as Lindsey.

"You better go now, Mr. John. Miss Sarah just walked into your room a few seconds ago."

"Oh. Thank you again. Maybe I'll see you two later." He gave them another smile and proceeded to his room.

When he finally shuffled up to the door he saw that Sarah was changing his bed sheets. She heard his footsteps and looked over her shoulder.

"I was wondering where you went," she said as she tucked the new sheets into the mattress and then straightens the sheets out more. She finally finished fixing the bed and began folding the old ones. She turned and gave an amused smile when she saw him hugging the bed sheet around himself. She walked towards him and he wondered what she was going to do.

She had a strange glint in her eyes and he only had a moment to ponder this when she suddenly grabbed the sheet off of John. He yelped and tried to reach for the sheet, but she sidestepped away from him and giggled.

"On the bed NOW! You're going to eat your soup and then I've arranged for the bath tub to be free for your use afterwards," Sarah stated. "There's no use for you to get dressed since you'll be bathing soon."

She smirked as he ducked his head and nodded as he went to the bed as directed. Sarah folded up the sheet she was now in possession of and set it on top of the other folded sheets.

John quickly jumped into bed and covered his lap with a corner of the fresh sheets. He saw a tray on the nightstand that had a lightly steaming bowl of broth with small chunks of vegetables and what looked like grain.

He picked up the tray and set it on his lap. Ever mindful of his metal hand he picked up the spoon with his left hand. It was slightly awkward, so he figured he must have been right-handed.

The soup tasted great! It had the right amount of spices and the grain filled him up. He quietly finished his soup and set the spoon down in the now empty bowl. He drank the glass of water that was also on the tray and then set the tray back on the nightstand. He scanned the room for something to cover himself with, but only found the sheets on his bed.

"I know what you're thinking, but the bathroom is only a couple doors down and you can have a change of clothing after the bath. Besides, there's hardly anyone down on this end of the hall other than a couple girls. You probably met them by now."

"Yes, I have."

"Well? Don't just sit there! Your bath will get cold!"

John jumped up off the bed, but then staggered at the sudden motion. Sarah was by his side in an instant and steadied him, cradling his left arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked, very concerned.

John waited a moment for the slight dizzy feeling and blackness clouding his vision to fade before he gave a nod.

"Maybe you should rest awhile and take that bath later."

"No, it's okay. Besides, I really need a bath," John insisted, trying to wave off Sarah's concerns.

She gave an uncertain "As you wish," but continued holding his arm, to which he had no objections. She led him across the semi-wide hallway three doors down into the bathroom. Inside, the floor and walls were tiled a pale-green, the bathroom had a bath tub at the far end of the small room. There was also a very small wooden stool leaned up against the right wall, in the center of the room was where a drain was located. There was a showerhead up six feet on the wall directly above the stool and drain. The room was very steamy and a little dim. Steamy because the tub was full with hot water and dim because there was only two small lights. One in the far right corner above the tub and the second in the left hand corner by the door, where a sink and mirror was placed. Beside those was a towel rack with towels and washcloths.

"Okay. Take off your underwear and put on a towel. Before you ask, I'm telling you this now. There is no way that I'm going to have someone getting killed slipping on this floor or drown in the tub on my watch. I am not going anywhere. You've almost fainted already," Sarah ordered mock-tersely to John before he could say anything.

He stared at her dumbfounded.

"Well? Come on!" She tossed a towel at him. "I won't look."

She gave him an impish grin and locked the door as she turned away from him.

`She can't be serious!' John thought, taken aback by her actions. But she was very serious. He gulped, his throat suddenly dry.

"Do I need to do that for you too?" she threatened and made grabbing motions toward his boxers. He stumbled backwards and against the tiled wall and stuttered, "N... No, I could do it!"

She smirked and turned around again, waiting.

He took his boxer shorts off quickly and replaced it with the towel. Sarah turned around to face him with her arms crossed as he tucked the end of the towel in around his waist.

"There now. That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

She took his boxer shorts and hung it on the towel rack and took a washcloth and a bar of soap. She took the three steps back to him and gently took a hold of his left arm and led him to the small stool, which she straightened on the floor and motioned for him to sit down. He sat down stiffly on the short wooden stool, mindful of the white towel wrapped around his hips.

Sarah reached up to the showerhead and pulled it out of the wall to reveal a hose attached to the showerhead. She brought the nozzle to her hand and twisted it to turn on the water. The water was pleasantly hot, not hot enough to burn. She went around to face his back and started showering his back, mindful of his metal arm. His tense muscles relaxed a little under the warm spray.

"That feel good?" asked Sarah over his shoulder. John nodded. His eyes were closed and he let himself slump on his stool.

Sarah soaked the washcloth and rubbed it on the bar of soap into a rich lather. She put the bar of soap down and turned off the water. She had him soaked from head to toe, the towel soaked through too.

John's eyes slowly opened when the gentle thrum and patter of the water ceased. He turned his head back at her with questioning eyes through wet bangs. She started to gently, but firmly, rub his back with the lathered up washcloth. He turned and faced forward with his eyes closed and head turned downward. Her gentle hands moved from his back to his left arm. She rubbed the soapy cloth on his pale skin as she moved back to his shoulders and neck and then slowly made her way down to his chest and stomach.

John's head began to swim from the gentle physical contact and Sarah's close proximity to him. With a foamy hand he stopped her from anymore rubbing and said quietly, "I'll take it from here."

She gave a slight blush, but he didn't see it and she turned around for some privacy.

He finished rubbing his lower body and legs and picked up the nozzle and hose and turned it on. He sprayed all the soap off then re-wrapped the towel about his waist. He then re-wets his hair and face and washed his face with one hand with the cloth. He wondered if he should worry about his metal arm rusting since even though they were careful not to get it wet, it inevitably happened as the steam collected on it like the fogged up mirror by the door.

Sarah heard the water stop and him sitting still so she assumed he was done. She turned around and brought out a small bottle of shampoo from her apron and poured some on his head and began rubbing it in. John leaned back into her hands as she massaged his scalp and got his hair all foamy. He almost wanted to protest when she stopped, but refrained.

"Close your eyes. You don't want to get any shampoo in them," instructed Sarah.

He did as he was told and soon felt water sprayed on his head.

"Okay. All done. Now you can go soak in the tub a while as I get you some clothes."

Sarah helped him up and led him to the tub. He slowly stepped into it since it was so hot and let himself adjust to it as he slowly lowered himself into the tub. He leaned back and brought his left arm into the water, leaving his right resting on the edge of the tub.

"I'll be right back. If you want to shave off your beard, which I think you should, the razors are by the sink." And with that she left him resting in the tub.

Sarah had actually wanted to say that he should shave off his beard since he was so handsome. Her cheeks colored at that thought.

She went to her mother's office hoping she would be there. Her mother was a doctor and she was teaching Sarah the skills necessary to become one.

Sarah was twenty-four and had been learning from her mother since as far back as she can remember.

When the men brought John in about a month ago, her mother thought she was experienced enough to sew up his wound. So she had let John become Sarah's patient for her to learn.

They lived in a large house that her mother had turned into a hospital out near the country. Sarah's father was a wealthy merchant, but he had died serving the Zaibach military he was drafted into. He didn't want to fight, but he was forced to lest he put his family into danger.

And so, they lived near one of the few farming communities in the technologically advanced Zaibach Empire.

After the war had ended, many blamed it on the lust for power and advanced technology, so they turned to the simple life of farming. This did not mean that everyone thought this way. Most still were trying to reclaim the lost glory of Zaibach and fighting many other groups of the Zaibach military, trying to gain control. These were done by unorganized factions and fortunately far away from the few farming communities.

Sarah knocked on her mother's office door and waited patiently.

"Come in," came a slightly tired, but non the less cheery voice.

"Mother?" Sarah asked as she opened the door and closed it behind her when she stepped into the office.

"Hmm?"

Sarah's mother was busy looking over files and papers sprawled all over her desk. Her mother swore it was organized and that she could find anything in a second. She was hunched over her desk with spectacles sitting at the end of her nose and pushing thick curly black hair back and away from her face.

"Mother. John is finally awake and I need to find clothes big enough to fit him."

"Who?" her mother asked. She finally looked up and took her glasses off.

"You know, the white haired young man with the mechanical arm and purple tattoos? He finally woke up at around noon when I went to check on him and he apparently doesn't remember a thing. It must be amnesia since you said he had a big concussion on his head," Sarah elaborated.

"Oh my. Yes, him. If he doesn't remember anything, how does he remember his name?"

"He doesn't. I named him. So, do we have any clothes for him? I know he's definitely over six feet tall. At least by three of four inches."

"Well…" her mother started slowly, "your father's clothes may fit him. He was fairly tall."

She blinked away the mist in her eyes at the mention of Sarah's father.

"Thank you Mother. You should meet him sometime. Maybe tomorrow when he's rested again."

Sarah turned to go and her mother smiled up at her then returned to her paper work.

Sarah walked away from the front office to the back of the house/hospital to her mother's and her former father's room. She stepped inside the large room and went to a large chest in the back corner of the room where some of her father's clothes were stored away. She opened the chest almost reverently. Her choices were limited for the top because of John's metal arm. After a few minutes Sarah found a large white tank top. A few more minutes of searching rewards her with a pair of worn tan colored pants that seemed long enough for John's long legs. She folded these up and closed the chest.

She knew she should get something long sleeved for John, since fall was coming soon, but she didn't have time at the moment to alter one of the shirts for him.

She knocked on the bathroom door and without waiting for an answer, entered the room. When she walked in and closed the door she found that John was still in the tub, sleeping. His face was relaxed and he was breathing soft, even, deep breaths.

Her eyes softened as she gave him a gentle smile. He looked so peaceful. She set his clothing on the towel rack and quietly walked over to his side where his metal arm was resting on the tub's edge. She squatted beside him and placed her left hand on the tub behind his arm to keep herself steady. She studied his face as she had many times when she tended to him while he was unconscious. She wondered, like many times before, why he had those purple tattoos and almost cringed to think how painful it must have been to get the ones at the corners of his eyes. They were simple and yet artistic.

She noted that his hair had at least grown a centimeter and that the silver hair on his face looked silky rather than stiff and scratchy as facial hair tends to be. As she contemplated on his face, their heads about a foot away from each other, intense dark red eyes suddenly snapped open.

Sarah gasped in surprise and fell backward, but caught herself on her hands, which had flown back. John sat up in the tub and looked concerned.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he leaned over the edge.

Sarah was blushing furiously and John noticed this.

"Umm, yeah, I'm okay. Just got surprised. I thought you were sleeping," she answered him, very flustered.

"I was," he lied. Actually, he had been sleeping, but he woke up when she knocked. He kept his eyes closed and waited to see what would happen. He opened his eyes just a crack to watch her, enough to see but not enough for Sarah to notice.

As she had studied his face he had studied hers. She had a fair complexion, he could not spot a single blemish on her perfect skin. She had a slight darkness that suggested some outside activity. Her piercing, ice blue eyes were soft and her mouth was a gentle curve.

She was beautiful.

He regretfully decided it was time to get out of the tub, although he could have spent an eternity just studying her face.

Sarah was standing and somehow managed to control her blush somewhat.

"Are you done with your bath?"

John looked up at her and answered, "Yes."

"Then let me get you a dry towel and I'll help you up."

Sarah walked to the towel rack and got a towel and his clothes. She returned to his side and placed the items in a dry spot by the wall, a couple feet away from the tub. She reached her left hand to John's upper right arm. John's eyes widened in wonder at why she would want to touch the metal mockery of an arm. He remained silent and took his left hand out of the water to hold Sarah's right. She pulled him up as he stood and soon he was towering over her. Her left hand was still placed on the cool metal of his right arm as he stepped out of the tub.

She let go of his arm, but her right hand lingered for a moment more in his left. She finally let go of that hand and went to get the dry towel and clothes. She handed him the towel then turned around. John un-wrapped the wet towel and let it drop to the floor with a wet `plop'. He began drying himself and was now left with partially dry hair.

"May I have my clothes, please?"

Sarah complied without turning around. John took them from her hands and tucked them under his right arm as he pulled out the black boxers and put them on. He then put on the tan pants, which he found were slightly tight about the legs, but they reached down, past his ankles. He put on the tank top, relieved that his right arm fit through. He would rather have had something to cover his arm, like a cloak or something, but he knew he was already in debt to these people and didn't want to burden them further.

"I'm all dressed now."

Sarah turned around and looked John up and down saying, "Nice. Now let's go shave that scruff off your face."

"Aren't you at least going to let me see if I want to or not? I haven't even seen what I look like yet!"

"Oh, yes, I guess you wouldn't since you have amnesia. But trust me, you look better clean shaven."

John walked up to the sink mirror and wiped the fog away with the towel he still had in his hands. He blinked at himself. Yep. He was an albino. His damp aqua-silver hair hung in his eyes and dark red eyes stared back at him from the mirror. He brought up his left hand and traced the three tattoos on his face then brought it down to stroke his developing beard on his thin and pale face.

"Maybe I should shave," John thought out loud.

Sarah's eyes brightened as she pulled out shaving cream and the razors and handed them to him.

"Thank you," he said as he lifted them from her hands.

She nodded then brought out a stool from under the towel rack and sat on it. She watched him apply the shaving cream to his face. She remembered as a little girl always watching her father shave in the morning. It had become some sort of a ritual.

John sometimes glanced at her through the mirror as he began shaving himself, being careful not to cut himself as he stretched his skin under his nose. Just as he thought he was finished and about to clean up Sarah spoke up and said, "You missed a spot."

"Where?"

John was sure he got everything.

"A patch under your chin and near your neck."

"I can't see it, are you sure it's there?" he asked as he tilted his head up and tried to look in the mirror. He finally turned around and lifted an eyebrow at Sarah.

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes then got up from her stool and took the razor from John's hands. She reached up to his now smooth face and he hunched over a little so it would be easier for her. She lifted his chin then carefully shaved off the patch she had spoken of. She then rinsed the razor and cleaned off any remaining shaving cream off his face with a damp cloth.

As she withdrew her hand, John grabbed it in a gentle hold.

"Thank you," he said softly to her, still holding her raised hand and looking her straight in the eyes.

Her eyes widened a little with surprise and a gentle blush graced her cheeks.

"You don't need to thank me. It was just a spot."
"Not just that, but for taking care of me this whole time. From the time I was unconscious to the moment I woke up in confusion. You are so gentle and kind, whether this is a duty as a doctor or not. I thank you for that." He then lifted the back of her hand to his lips and gave it a light kiss.

Sarah stood still, stunned into silence. She never expected this! Sure, she expected a little bit of gratitude from a patient she had helped. A "thank you" was all she expected. Her blush darkened a bit more as she looked down to the side and pulled her hand away from his warm and loose grasp.

"I'm sure you still feel tired and a bit weak, even with the nap in the tub. You should rest a bit more. I'll come back when dinner is ready and if you feel okay you could eat with the rest of us and meet a few other patients."

Sarah still didn't look at him directly and after she tidied up the bathroom for someone else's use she led him back to his room by his elbow and then left him standing by himself at his door.

John wondered if she was upset at him. He didn't believe he did anything improper, or perhaps she didn't have an interest in him as he had thought when he saw her studying his face so intently. Maybe it was only an interest a doctor has for her patient to make sure of their health.

John walked to his bed and sat down. He hadn't meant for Sarah to feel uncomfortable. Then another thought entered his head. Could she already be courting someone?

He cursed quietly to himself and hoped she would forgive him. He brought his bare feet up onto the bed and lay back on top of the covers and drifted off to sleep thinking of how to apologize to Sarah.