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CHAPTER 9
Sydney stood at the window of Nigel’s hospital room, staring out at the evening sky of London . The doctors had been in to tend to him, pronouncing him with a very serious concussion, and gave the usual spiel that they could do nothing else until or unless he woke up. Sydney didn’t consider that he wouldn’t wake up, or that his injuries might leave him in a life long coma. She refused to believe he would be taken from her and since she refused to believe it, it would not happen. There had been quite the commotion at the school when Dean McNeil and several other teachers arrived, urged on by the students that had fled the scene. Sydney was far more concerned about Nigel and was not in the mood to explain things, so Preston took over. The young boy that had helped Nigel to reach the cricket bat, one Sean Donner, had sat with them, asking Sydney if the man who so brilliantly thrashed the headmistress and Professor Reardon would be okay. He asked her many questions about Nigel and Sydney could hear the glow of wonder and pride in his voice. She had a feeling that the tale of Sir Nigel the Brave would soon be all over the academy and it made her smile that he would finally have something good come from there. She glanced at the balloon tied to the post of the bed, sent to Nigel by the kids that had watched the battle and she smiled. Preston entered the room and glanced at the bed, where his brother lay hooked up to a heart monitor and a breathing apparatus. “Any change?” “Not so far.” Sydney flipped the catch on the window and pushed it open letting some of the air in. “He’s tired.” Preston regarded her for a long moment, and then moved over to set down a figure, about a foot tall, on the locker by the bed. “What’s that?” Sydney asked as she moved over to inspect the figure. “It…it’s nothing really, just…um something I found up at the house.” Sydney picked up the beautiful hand-painted figure in 16th century battle high boots, leggings and breastplate with a long flowing cloak. In one hand was a jewelled sword that looked hauntingly familiar, in his other, the head of a beast. Sydney slowly smiled as she caressed the face of the handsome knight. “Sir Gabriel?” Preston flushed and nodded. “He…that is…Nigel. It was Nigel’s, when we were younger. My….our father had it made for him for his tenth birthday.” His gaze roamed wistfully over his brother’s pale features. “He refused to take it to school for fear it would be lost or stolen, I suppose, and I reckon that it got messed up with some of our parent’s things after they died. I found it in the attic a few days ago while going through some boxes.” “Why were you going through the attic?” He shrugged. “All this with the reunion and what not, well, Nigel was so dead set on not going to his, but it got me to thinking of mine, so I suppose I wanted a trip down memory lane.” He moved over to the window and glanced out. “And, perhaps I started thinking of what you said, of trying to mend our fences.” He turned back to her. “I remembered seeing that and thought he might like to take it back to America with him.” Sydney nodded and set the statue back on the locker. “That was very thoughtful of you, Preston .” “Syd…” Preston took a step towards her and then folded his arms around himself. “I…I don’t mind telling you, when that…that maniac was bashing Nigel’s head on the floor, all I could think of was he’s dying. My brother was dying and I was just standing there and letting it happen.” “You saved him, Preston .” “I did no such thing. I…I tripped over my own bloody feet, frightened out of my wits that Reardon would turn those things on me.” Sydney shrugged and let her gaze wander over Nigel’s face. “We all get scared.” She’d seen Nigel terrified for his life, and still he always came through for her. She brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Everything works out in the end.” “What if it doesn’t? Syd, what…what if because I didn’t try to step in sooner, what if Nigel doesn’t wake up, or…or if he does and he’s a vegetable?” Sydney shook her head and continued to stare at her friend and partner, memorizing the lines on his face, the pattern of his eyelashes, the shape of his lips. “He’ll wake up.” Preston let his arms drop to his side and stepped up next to her, also turning his attention to Nigel. “How can you be so sure?” “Because he promised me.” “Sorry?” Sydney reluctantly pulled her gaze away from the man she loved to focus on the man filled with doubt. “He promised he’d never leave me, Preston . Two years ago when we were in a tight spot and I…well, we were in a tight spot. He made me promise I would never leave him and he promised the same. Nigel never breaks his promises.” “How…how could he make such a promise? I mean…how can you hold him to something like that?” Her gaze returned to Nigel. “Because I have faith in him.” “But, Sydney , surely you don’t think…I mean, no one can cheat death.” She glanced at him, startled. “Who’s cheating?” she tossed. “We win our battles fair and square.” She smiled. “ Preston , he’ll be fine. If he wasn’t, I’d know.” Preston studied her face, the way she watched Nigel, the glow that emanated from her when she spoke of him and the unwavering conviction in her voice. “Yes, I believe you would.” He reached down and squeezed Nigel’s arm, more for his own benefit than for his brother’s, then moved towards the door. “I’ll go get us some coffee, shall I? It’s bound to be a long night.” Sydney nodded and hooked the straight back chair behind her with her foot. She pulled it forward and settled into it, then folded Nigel’s hand in hers. “He just doesn’t understand, does he, Nige?” she sighed. “It was good of him to bring you Sir Gabriel, though. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.” She yawned and laid her head on Nigel’s stomach. “Wake me when you’re ready to go home.”
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Nigel awoke slowly, and the first thing he became aware of was the gentle weight of Sydney ’s head across his stomach. He lifted his hand and caressed her hair, assuring himself she was real. Why was she laying across him like that? Had she been hurt? The steady beeping of the heart monitor alerted him to the machine beside the bed, and the wires that flowed from it and to the clip on his right finger. Grey walls, florescent lighting, and not very comfortable bed. He was in hospital. He’d been the one hurt. He pulled the oxygen tube away from his face and absently continued to caress Sydney ’s hair as he surveyed his surroundings. The early light of dawn was seeping in through the window, where Preston was slumped in a chair, his chin drooping on his chest as he lightly snored in his sleep. There was a large Harry Potter balloon tied to the bed that offered a magical healing spell, a few baskets of flowers, and then his eyes fell on the figure of Sir Gabriel. He gasped in surprise and finally removed his hand from Sydney to reach for it. He studied it fondly, remembering the birthday he had received it. Wherever had it come from? He glanced over at Preston and realized that could be the only place. “Hello, Sir,” he whispered, affectionately as he traced the Knight’s sword. “It’s been a long time, since I’ve seen you.” He remembered how he would confide in Sir. Gabriel all his troubles when he returned home from school, all the problems he had with Preston . The figure had been his confidant when he had no one to talk too. Then, shortly after their parents died, Sir Gabriel had disappeared. He’d been too distraught at the time to think of searching for him, and then he moved out of the house that Preston took ownership off, and never looked back. He smiled at the knight in his hands, what was once his best friend. “I have so much to tell you,” he admitted, softly and transferred the figure to his other hand so he could go back to caressing Sydney , his new best friend. “And someone very important for you to meet.” Sydney stirred and enjoyed the feel of Nigel’s fingers in her hair, before he realized she was awake and retracted them. She lifted her head, just enough that she could turn and face him. “Hi.” “Hi,” he returned, softly. “About time you woke up.” “I was tired.” Sydney stretched and glanced over at Preston . “Yeah, that’s what I said.” She turned her attention back to the figure in Nigel’s hands and smiled. “Looks like you found an old friend.” The fact that she understood without him having to say a word to her, and she didn’t tease him about the figure cemented their relationship. He returned her smile. “Yes. Sydney , meet Sir Gabriel, my old childhood friend. Sir Gabriel, meet Sydney, my new best friend.” Sydney bowed her head to the figure. “A delight to meet you, your Lordship.” Nigel laughed and barely resisted the urge to kiss her. “You’re brilliant, do you know that?” “You don’t think I got all those degrees on my wall by beauty alone, do you?” “If anyone could, it would be you, Syd.” He set the figure back on the locker. “Luckily enough you do have brains as well.” “Was that supposed to be a compliment?” “Best I can do in my current state.” “How’s the pain?” Nigel glanced past her to Preston . “Sleeping it seems.” She smirked. “I meant your head, Nigel.” “Oh. Throbbing a bit, not too horrid.” “Want me to call the doctor in to give you something?” He closed his eyes as she caressed his brow. “I have something which is working quite well.” Sydney smiled and continued her task, watching him relax to her touch. “Don’t get too used to it. This is only because you’re hurt.” “I know. I’ll take what I can get.” Sydney paused and wondered at his words. Did he mean that he liked it when she touched him, and would welcome it more often, or was he just being flippant, as usual? She decided to test her theory and stood up to hover over him, their faces inches apart. “If you want something you should ask for it.” His eyes flew open and captured hers, startled. What did she mean by that? His eyes flickered to lips that were millimetres from his, then he looked up to lose himself in her dark gaze. “Mr. Bailey,” a doctor greeted as he entered the room. “Excellent to see you awake. How are you feeling?” Nigel had to tear his gaze away from Sydney ’s to focus on the older physician. “W…what?” “How are you feeling? How’s that head of yours? You took quite a few knocks, I hear.” “I…” His head was swimming, but he didn’t know if that was from his injury or the proximity of Sydney moments ago. “I think I’m okay.” Physically anyway. “”I’m Doctor Stevens,” the doctor announced as he took out a pen light and leaned over to check Nigel’s eyes, causing Sydney to move back. “Hmm, yes, yes. That seems better. Your eyes are much clearer now.” “Are they?” Nigel was having trouble concentrating, he wanted to look at Sydney again, ask her….Ask her what, exactly? “We’ll run a few tests and you will no doubt have a good sized lump, but I think you’ll be okay to discharge in the morning, assuming your tests come back alright.” “Um…okay. Whatever you think, Sir.” Stevens nodded, pleased and then jabbed a finger towards, Sydney . “Now that you’re out of the woods, perhaps you could convince your girlfriend to let us examine at her finally.” “She’s not…” Nigel began automatically, and then glanced at Sydney with concern. “You didn’t let them examine you?” He remembered her trip down the stairs and that horrible slam into the wall that rendered her unconscious. “Syd!” Sydney glared at the doctor, and then offered Nigel a small smile. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” Stevens harrumphed. “I don’t know about any of that, dear lady, but considering the state you were in when you arrived, you should have been hospitalized immediately.” Nigel finally took the time to really look at her. Her shirt was torn, she had a large gash over her right eye that it appeared she cleaned, but did not bandage and as she stood, he realized she was favouring her left leg. “Are you mad?” he demanded angrily. “Why the hell would you wait?” He shook his head and turned to the doctor. “You’ll have to excuse her, Doctor, she’s obviously had too many shots to the head!” “Nigel!” “Don’t you Nigel me! How can you not let them examine you? You could be really hurt, you could have internal bleeding!” “I’m fine…” “You fell down over fifty stairs and were slammed face first into a bloody wall, Sydney !” “Nigel…” He turned way from her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t talk to me until they’ve looked at you.” “Now look…” Sydney began, annoyed that she was being scolded like a child. Who was the boss here anyway? Nigel lifted his chin and ignored her. “I can’t believe you’re being so childish!” He turned to her. “I can’t believe you’re being so stupid!” “Hey!” Nigel softened his voice. “Syd, if it were me…hell it was me in some ways, you’d never let me go without medical attention.” “That’s different…” “No it isn’t! You’re not bloody invincible and I saw what that maniac did to you.” He shook his head, his gaze filled with worry. “Syd, I’ve seen you get bashed about, fall into pits, thrown to your knees, but I have never seen you knocked unconscious, never. Please, let them have a look, for my peace of mind.” He reached for her hand. “Please?” Sydney stared at their joined hands and sighed. How could she refuse him when he was so incredibly worried? “No fair,” she muttered. “Life’s not fair. Please, let them have a look. I won’t say another word about it after, I promise.” “I’m fine.” “I’m not,” he admitted, concerned. “And I won’t be until I know for sure you’re okay. Please, Syd. Do it for me.” She sighed and growled at the same time. “Fine!” she couldn’t help the small smile that twitched at her lips. “You’ll never let it rest until I do.” “True enough.” “Like a dog with a bone.” “I prefer to think of you as a favourite chew toy.” Her eyes widened, and then she laughed. She squeezed his hand and then released it. “All right, doc. Let’s go confirm that I’m not dying.” Stevens nodded, pleased and winked at Nigel. “I’ll be back to see you in a few minutes.” “I’ll be here,” Nigel replied and then called after Sydney . “Be nice, now. No punching out the technicians or growling at the nurses.” “Where’s the fun of that?” Sydney shot back as she disappeared out the door with the doctor. Nigel grinned and glanced towards Preston , who had finally woken up and was clearing his throat as he rose from the chair. “Morning, Pod…Nigel.” “ Preston .” “How are you feeling?” “Better. How was your sleep?” Preston grimaced and caressed the back of his neck. “God awful, but what can you expect from a hospital chair?” Nigel nodded. “Not exactly the penthouse suite at the London Arms, I suppose.” He paused. “You could have gone home and slept in your own bed.” “I didn’t think it was polite to leave Sydney here alone and she refused to leave your side.” Nigel bit down on the retort that quickly rose to his lips. His brother would hang around and risk a sore neck for Sydney , but not for him. Preston would never change. “Well, Sydney ’s fine so you can toddle off to your next prestigious meeting or whatever.” Preston wandered around the room, his hands in his pockets. “Oh, I’ll think I’ll stay for a bit. I don’t have anything pressing to do today.” He wanted to hear from the doctor that Nigel would be okay and make a full recovery. “Really, Preston , there’s no need. You can go.” “I prefer to stay, if that’s alright with you.” “Fine, do as you like.” “Thank you, I will.” Nigel simmered for a moment, trying to keep his temper in check. “Syd probably won’t be back for awhile. The doctor’s are examining her.” Nigel’s hands clenched on the sheets. “Well, some people are more self-sacrificing and compassionate than you are, Preston . She was worried about someone other than herself. You should try it for a change; it could evolve your whole outlook on life.” Preston spun around, offended. “I’m a very compassionate person!” “When it suits you.” “All the time!” Preston waved a hand at Nigel, angrily. “Well, I can see the knock to your head hasn’t improved your social skills at all, so I’ll just go to the cafeteria until Sydney comes back.” “You do that. Perhaps you can steal something from an old woman’s tray.” “Are you insinuating that I’m a thief?” “You’ve robbed me of plenty of things, so yes.” Preston’s hand curled into fists as he glared at Nigel. Impossible, ungrateful, boorish…He paused as the vision of Reardon slamming Nigel’s head into the floor flooded his mind. That horrifying resigned look in his brother’s eyes that he was about to die. Immediately, his anger cooled. Nigel had the right to mistrust him. As he had confessed to Sydney , he had been less than brotherly over the years. “I could bring you back a pastry if you like? You prefer the chocolate ones, right?” Nigel blinked at the turn in conversation. “Uh…right.” Preston smiled and nodded. “Be right back then, and I’ll bring something for Sydney as well. You both need to keep up your strength.” Nigel watched his brother leave, shocked. He winced and lay back against the pillows, his head hurt even more now.
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