Koh Comfort

[adifferentlife]

Her days at the hospital have been long since the faceless victims started arriving. With no idea what is causing it or how they can even breathe, it's been important to watch and record every moment of their time at the hospital. A task that has fallen to Sybil as a nurse's aide and even the other late term nursing students, in an attempt to relieve the burden on the nurses and doctors.

Still, she's not home much after dinner tonight, exhausted though she may be. Sybil had called Henri on a quick break, asking him to meet her at her apartment and to bring dinner if he might. All she wishes to do is to see him and curl up in his arms and hear that all will be well, even if it truly will not.

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[jaimemieux]

The newest strangeness to hit Darrow had rocked the entire city, natives and newcomers alike, creeping its way into new homes every day. Earlier that week, two of Henri’s students had fallen victim to this horror of facelessness - though in each case, thank God, they had been brought by parents, or roommates, or neighbors to the hospital in time. And though that had stirred his own sense of horror, he knew it had affected Sybil all the more, for she had to care for these poor victims, watch them slowly fill up hospital beds while doctors and nurses scrambled to care for them.

Even if she had not suggested it, Henri would have brought dinner along, knowing full well that she had barely eaten during her shift. He was carrying cartons of Chinese food when she answered her door (he had grown to like it rather, as foreign as it was) and kissed her temple with a gentle smile. “Cherie."

[adifferentlife]

"My darling," she says when she sees him, resting a hand on his chest and closing her eyes for the briefest moment. Knowing he's here is already great comfort, her smile stronger when she pulls away to look up at him. "Thank you for coming, and for dinner."

The days have seemed interminably long, and the nights have been worse. The faceless haunt her dreams, and it's her hope that Henri can soothe her well enough that she can sleep a full night. That he's brought Chinese is an extra treat, the food and flavours still exciting to her. "Did you get the chicken in honey sauce?"

[jaimemieux]

“How could I forget?” Henri asked, a soft grin briefly breaking over his face. “I brought some wine as well, so don’t you sit, and I will get everything set up. D’accord?"

[adifferentlife]

"Thank you," she says gratefully, wondering how it is that he's so very good when she needs it the most. "Another two came in today, and no change in those who were already there."

[jaimemieux]

Henri set to work, putting down the cartons of food and going to fetch plates and glasses, pouring the wine and bringing out utensils. He frowned softly at Sybil’s news. “Has any connection been found among the fallen? Something to tie them together?"

[adifferentlife]

Sybil puts a record on, Etta James for tonight, turning the volume down so it's not a distraction. "Sadly, not as of yet. There are more of us, those from other places, than there are of those who come from Darrow, but it's still not a real link."

[jaimemieux]

“How very strange,” Combeferre murmured, holding out a wine glass for Sybil. Was this what happened when cures were found for the diseases that once tormented men? Were they replaced with maladies more cruel and incomprehensible still?

Medicine did not work like that, he reminded himself. Medicine had logic. Disease had a source. But in such strange times, that was difficult to remember.

[adifferentlife]

Her fingers curl around it, brushing his as they do. She takes her seat, pulling the chair close to his before she does. There's no reason to sit on formality, not here in her own rooms. Not tonight when she's so distressed. "I wish strange was all that it was. It's disturbing, they shouldn't have survived so long, but they have."

[jaimemieux]

Henri held her free hand in both of his, leaning close enough to rest his forehead against hers. “I know,” he said softly. “It doesn’t make any sense. But… if this is the strangest of places, it also holds some of the most intelligent and creative people from across the universe. Someone will find a solution."

[adifferentlife]

"Someone will. Including you, I think. Have you gone up yet? To see if they need more help?" She squeezes his hand, her eyes closing when their foreheads touch. "Every input is useful."

[jaimemieux]

“I have considered it, but I have not approached anyone at the hospital,” Henri confessed with a tiny, apologetic smile. “They have machines there - machines and knowledge of human physiology that I fear I cannot match.” He sighed. “But if this has taught me anything, it is that I must be better equipped if another strange malady ever strikes.” While he hated to think that something of this nature would happen again, Combeferre was a practical man. There was always the possibility of something else. He only hoped to be better armed next time.

[adifferentlife]

Sybil knows well that it will likely happen again - if not this, than something else. "They do have these things, but they need people as well, and you are a person, and you were studying to be a doctor before."

She squeezes his hand before turning to the food, her stomach a ravenous pit. "What were you thinking of?"

[jaimemieux]

Henri smiled faintly and squeezed Sybil's knee, only wishing that he could live up to her high praise and contribute something. He knew better than anyone that medical solutions did not come easily, but this plague had baffled Darrow’s most brilliant doctors. How did one combat a malady that showed no pattern, no cause, and displayed only a single, horrifying symptom?

“For my medical training, you mean?” he asked, picking food for himself. “I plan to speak to some of the medical professors at the university, in fact. From what I gather, accommodations are sometimes made for those of us in unusual circumstances. With any luck, I can piece together a regimen to suit my needs.” He sighed a little. “But we shall see."

[adifferentlife]

Chopsticks, Sybil has discovered, are hardly more difficult that using the correct fork to pull shellfish out of its shell without creating a mess or fuss. In fact, she rather likes them, treating them almost like a game each time she uses them. It enough to make her smile, even now, his touch on her knee only causing it to grow.

"I hope that you do," she answers earnestly, knowing that he must have been very good being a doctor, or rather, almost a doctor, once. "I hope that they do. They'd be fools to not have you there."

[jaimemieux]

Combeferre’s chuckle held a self-deprecating note. “Goodness, when you continue to insist in such a way, how can do anything but agree?” And Sybil, bless her, was not even his only source of encouragement. Jehan’s praise was, of course, unending, and even Remus had insisted more than once that he would do well in a way that made Combeferre think that he was not only being kind. While Combeferre disliked thinking that he required flattery, the encouragement offered by his friends certainly buoyed him, making it easy to float above his insecurities. “Do you have any new reports from your own studies?"

[adifferentlife]

"Not very much. We've been talking about ethics of healthcare as of late. I've essays to write, but all of this, all of what's going on? It makes me wonder, how do those ethics apply?" It's a serious concern, her chopsticks paused mid-air as she looks to him in consideration. "How can we monitor and make any decisions for something we don't know?"

[jaimemieux]

He shook his head a little. “This recent affliction does seem beyond understanding, stranger than anything any of us here have encountered.” But-“ Combeferre frowned thoughtfully at his pad thai. “I fear that there is mystery in a great part of medicine, and that even we who study it are not always the experts we claim to be. We have believed that illness was a sign from God, an indication of unbalanced humors, the result of microscopic creatures burrowing inside us. But even when we are wrong, we strive to understand better. We keep trying. And if all I have read on the advances in medicine is to be trusted, we usually get it right in the end.” His optimism had no false cheer in it. Combeferre believed in Progress above all. “We will come to understand this plague as we have so many others, I am sure."

[adifferentlife]

"I hope we do. I feel awful for those afflicted, and for their friends. I wonder-" Now her lips purse, as she fights through vaguely formed thoughts that have been bothering her at some deeper level. "They say if a patient is in a coma that we can still sometimes reach them. Do these patients hear us? Is it the same? Or is it worse?"

[jaimemieux]

Combeferre could only shake his head. “I have heard that when people come upon them, the afflicted are sometimes going about their business as if nothing is amiss, but without awareness - like automatons, of a sort. That does not sound like any coma I have ever seen.” Setting aside his food, he gently cupped her face. “The people of Darrow will find a solution, however long it takes. And in the meantime, the afflicted are safe. We can at least take comfort in that."

[adifferentlife]

"We can," she agrees, closing her eyes for but a moment when his hand touches her cheek. Sybil is more fond of him than she's ever been of anyone, and his comfort is appreciated in ways she can't quite put into words for him. But his words and touches are keeping her on an even keel during this crisis, more than he likely knows. "You are sweet, bringing dinner, coming when I've had an awful day."

[jaimemieux]

“You speak as though I would wish to be anywhere else,” Combeferre said with a soft smile. He kissed her forehead. “Let us talk of other things, perhaps? There is no more we can do for the afflicted tonight."

[adifferentlife]

It's hard to change the trajectory of her thoughts, but she knows that he's right and she needs to. "What should we talk of then? Anything, please, tell me what you've been doing today, or yesterday, or something funny you've seen."

[jaimemieux]

Henri put his arm around Sybil, drawing her closer. “Well, I did make an odd discovery today. I found someone I knew in Paris in a history book. Raspail was his name - I cannot claim to have known him well, but we ran in similar circles, and I always admired him. He went on to make some significant medical advances. I was reading about cell theory, and there he was, staring back at me.” While nothing near the solution to the city’s current plague that he had been hoping to find, the discovery had been gratifying.

[adifferentlife]

"Really?" She looks to him curiously, wondering what that was like for him. Sybil knows that she'd read her own history with a mix of trepidation and wonder, dealing more in generalities than specifics. She'd no desire to learn her own future, and what she's heard from Thomas is a heavy enough weight. "Did you mind it?"

[jaimemieux]

“Not as much as I would have thought,” Combeferre confessed. “Perhaps if I had found a name I knew better, I would find myself more troubled…” But even as he said it, he wondered if that were true. Wouldn’t he love to hear of some happy future for Laigle or Bahorel, for Feuilly or Enjolras? Or would that only make their absence harder to bear?

Whatever the case, discovering Raspail’s name was a less significant matter, and perhaps that was what allowed Combeferre such uncomplicated pleasure. “Largely, I am glad to hear he accomplished so much, that he was able to continue work we had merely started.”

[adifferentlife]

"I've steered away from some things for much of the same reason. If I were to find something happened to my family, or someone I held dear? It would be more difficult than I care to think." She's had a few bites, and the food is wonderful, but truthfully, she's not all that hungry after a long day. Knowing she should have more, she picks at it, choosing pieces that appeal more than others. "Still, it's nice to know of the successes, isn't it, if somewhat odd?"

"Do you need to get home? I was thinking you might stay a while, I'd like the company." Sybil wants nothing more than to curl up close to him on the lounge and be reminded of the things that make her happy.

[jaimemieux]

“I am glad to stay for as long as you like,” Combeferre answered, his arm curving around her a little more firmly. “Even through the night, if you would allow it? I have nowhere else to be.” He had stayed with her more than once since that first time, and though their behavior had not always been chaste, he had been careful to keep his behavior within certain bounds. Now he was especially glad of how comfortable they had become together, if only because he knew he could offer this uncomplicated comfort.

[adifferentlife]

No matter how often he stayed, Sybil felt nervous in asking it of him. She hated to think she was suggesting things she as of yet hadn't been ready for, but she enjoyed the closeness and the comfort of his presence. Having him offer is a relief, and one she smiles at. "I would, thank you.I would like it very much."

[jaimemieux]

“No need for thanks, ma chere. You know I am always happy to be here.” Henri brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Should we watch a film, perhaps, to keep your mind off other matters? Or would you prefer to talk?"

[adifferentlife]

Yet she always will thank him, never wanting him to think she's trying to take advantage or take him for granted. Sybil considers, deciding. "A movie. I should like a while to think of nothing important."

[jaimemieux]

“Bon.” Pulling himself away from her arms for now, Combeferre sought the small pile of films that had begun to gather next to Sybil’s television, bought from stores or borrowed from friends and co-workers, eager to assist in their cinematic education. Something light was needed on a night like this, a story without the weight of Casablanca, and Combeferre quickly found one that seemed well-suited to cheering Sybil up. “Roman Holiday,” he read, holding up one of the boxes. “Do you know of it?"

[adifferentlife]

"No," she admits, letting him look as she settles on the lounge with her wine nearby. "But I did love the time we visited Rome, even if it was 'filled with outrageous Italians'," she adds the last with a fond smile, remembering the Dowager Countess' words fondly.

[jaimemieux]

“I would be concerned if Rome was not full of Italians,” Combeferre observed with a chuckle. “Let us see what sort of trouble they find, then?” He slipped the disk into the machine and returned to the sofa, slipping his arm around Sybil as he did so.

[adifferentlife]

"My Grandmother would also complain that France was very full of the French," she answered teasingly, stretching to kiss him before settling against his side. "Something I've never minded at all."

[jaimemieux]

“I should introduce your grandmother to my friend Courfeyrac. He once traveled to London and was fond of saying it was a most depressing place, on account of the rain and the overabundance of Englishmen.” Combeferre squeezed her gently as the television screen filled with color and the film’s opening music began to play. “But I am glad to hear you hold much more leniency towards we French as a nation."

[adifferentlife]

She has to giggle at that, imagining the horror of those two having a conversation. "Made even more lenient through the Frenchmen of my acquaintance."

[jaimemieux]

Combeferre laughed and dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Then I have been a positive influence.” A pause. “I am glad to see you smile, cherie."

[adifferentlife]

It's such a change from when she first came into her rooms, and she's glad of it too. "I am as well. Thank you, my darling."