Chapter Text
Rune Lazuli – Your purpose is hidden within your wounds.
“Take it easy,” Evelyn hushed softly when she tipped the water-filled cup to let its contents flow between the greedy lips of her patient. She noticed that he managed to restrain himself, but barely.
The moment he finished the cup and the back of his head touched the pillow again, his eyes closed and his breathing evened out. He was running a very high fever. Evelyn pursed her lips when she placed a small wet cloth on his forehead. Her gut told her that he would soon find peace in the arms of God, or whatever the man believed in.
She let out a shivering breath as she stood up and pressed the palm of her hand hard against her forehead; it was pounding like mad. So intense that even the candle light was unpleasant to her eyes.
“Hey, you alright?” Evelyn opened her eyes, pulling away her hand to look at the person owning the voice. It was Dorothy.
Evelyn swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, think so. Having the worst headache though,” she honestly mentioned. Both of the walked away from the patients to a side room where Dorothy kept most of the medical supplies aside from great quantities of medicine. The stash was in the basement.
Dorothy rummaged through some drawers and sighed, shaking her head in dismay. “I don’t really have something for migraines.”
Evelyn held up her hand. “I understand, I don’t mind. I’m sure it will pass.” Evelyn carefully put herself in a more humble position. She did not want Dorothy to spent the hard earned medicine on her.
“Well, go home and make sure to drink some ginger tea, alright?” A small smile pulled on Evelyn’s lips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Some nerves that were leftovers from the attack surged through her stomach as Evelyn ventured out in the streets. They were lit once more artificially, but Evelyn could spot streaks of pink in the dark skies above her. Dawn was upon them.
What made her feel just a little more safer was the touch of metal in the pocket of her woolen coat. Her fingers sought it out, and it’s cool and slick surface was comforting. Thanks to Darius she finally had a way to defend herself in the shape of a gun. It was heavier than she thought, but with some tips and practice without shooting it became easier to hold.
At least she could fight back now against those monsters.
What they were exactly, Evelyn could not get her mind around. The wound on her shoulder was evidence of it being real, but her mind was scattered and the images were foggy. She noticed a speck of doubt when thinking about Jonathan Reid being involved in some, or any way in that situation.
Gnawing on her bottom lip in thought Evelyn entered the hospital through the morgue, in order to avoid Nurse Branagan and the others to avoid questions. The urge to talk to Fiddick about his children was too big to pass along.
It felt somewhat weird to walk around through the dark tiled corridors not wearing her uniform. A dark green dress peaking underneath her long woolen coat instead of grey and white. Her stockings black instead of white and her blond hair down her shoulders instead of up in a bun.
Just her luck; Strickland and Ackroyd weren’t around. Evelyn did not exactly feel the need to explain why she was visiting at this ungodly hour without having to work the day-shift. Her footfalls were softly as she ventured in the main ward where the majority of the patients lay. She passed them by quietly, most of them asleep, and her eyes met those of Harvey. Hers observing his that were encircled and deepened with lack of sleep. Only perceptible because of the lone streetlight just outside his window.
She sat down on the empty bed before him and offered her hand. Harvey instantly took it and squeezed. The reflection of the light in his eyes turned hopeful. She felt her lips curl into a smile and she squeezed his hand back.
“Are they safe?” He dared to whisper.
Evelyn nodded. “They are. They are staying with a lovely lady. Once you get better, I will take you to them.”
Harvey let go of her hand and pressed his own against his mouth. She spotted the wetness of tears on his cheeks in the light coming from outside. She sighed and smiled. Leaning forward she hugged him, one that he returned. His whole being oozed relief and gratitude. The pain in her shoulder was worth it.
“For those who need us,” she whispered to him.
The headache had not passed after a good night (day?) of sleep. Though it had dwindled in strength and she felt invigorated, there was still the silent thump of it bothering her when she concentrated or in harsh lighting.
What wasn’t helping was that the hospital hallways contained such harsh and bright lights that had Evelyn squint to the point that her headache even worsened. Because of the squinting. It’s so wonderful that your body works that way.
Pippa tutted at her in an disapproving way when she fashioned her nurse cap in such a way that it shielded her precious sight from the bright white light that wanted to burn her eyes out of her sockets.
Evelyn thought it was creative.
Pippa thought it was unprofessional. But the chuckle she made was a dead-give-away that this surely had to be made a fashion item in the future. Perhaps with different prints and logos.
Even Thelma reacted positively on it. Claiming that it was a nice way to protect her sight from the ungodly light of the sun and dousing her in the darkness that she craved and needed. Great for you Thelma.
After an hour though, the edge of her nurse cap made a nice indentation in the skin of her forehead. So that didn’t help.
When the ending of her night shift approached, the hospital was asleep and she and the remaining nurses were doing their rounds at their assigned wards. The darkness was welcoming and felt safer between the four walls of the hospital. So welcome that Evelyn took a seat in at the desk of the nurse station that was situated in a small nook in the dark corridor. The wall behind her, which was very pleasant and increased her sense of safety. So was the book she was reading, the pages illuminated by a small desk lamp.
On her watch, time was creeping close to 4am. With a groan Evelyn stood up and dog-eared her book before closing it. Final round.
Despite safety of the hospital walls. It felt different walking through the darkness, than sitting in the darkness with a book and a light. The torchlight she held illuminated enough in front of her and the ward as she quietly passed and checked on the sleeping patients in the wards near her nurse station. Careful not to wake everyone up. When she exited the ward and closed the door quietly to return back to her nurse station, she paused midstride and the rhythm of her heart increased.
The embodiment of Jonathan Reid was standing at her desk, her book in his hands and his back turned to her.
It was just like that moment. Amidst the scattered images of that fateful night the familiar black clothed back of Jonathan drifted to the surface of the thick syrup that are her memories. It was matching the here and now.
“Mr. Reid?” Her voice was hesitant.
His attention shifted from the book to her and he turned around so quickly that Evelyn’s hand automatically went to her side, of where her coat pocket must have been to find the cool metal with her fingertips. But instead she found nothing but the fabric of her skirt. Of course she wasn’t wearing a coat indoors and at work.
There wasn’t a feral gaze when his eyes met hers. The blue nearly invisible because of the darkness, but she spotted his eyes shift to her hand on her side and back to her face in a mere blink. The mouth that turned into a small smile in greeting wasn’t dripping with blood. Evelyn swallowed and looked down at his feet for a second to compose herself and release her building tension. The fear of the that night simmering on the surface and making her head throb and her heart pound in her chest.
“Ah. Good evening, Miss Walker. I was hoping to meet you here.”
“Well, here I am. Is something wrong with one of the patients?” Evelyn talked her tenseness away and walked towards him trying to act casual, despite everything in her body telling her not to. It wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible and it felt wrong not to listen to her instinct.
“There isn’t, but I appreciate your sense of duty,” Jonathan answered with a small chuckle. He handed her the book she was reading. “Frankenstein is one of my favorites.”
“Well, it’s mine too. Read it several times but never gets old. Haven’t seen the movie yet though.” Evelyn murmured and looked at the grizzly title of her favorite book. Noticing she was distracted, Evelyn put the book down on the desk and looked up at the doctor.
“So why are you here?” She asked with more vigor in her voice. Her anxiety made her cross her arms across her chest to restrain herself from fidgeting.
His eyes searched hers, observing her she noticed. “I was wondering on how you felt. I heard from your friend Pippa that a headache has been plaguing you as of lately.” He paused for a moment. “How is your shoulder?”
Evelyn looked up, meeting his searching gaze with hers and felt her emotions battling with each other. One of her hands touched her injured shoulder as the sensation of how it happened flashed before her minds-eye. Then she knew.
She was scared, but with that fear there was also a rage flickering at the edge because of the monster that stood before her, hidden behind the kind pale blue glint that also held a profound sadness within.
He had killed those men. Latching onto their necks, blood everywhere. Her heartrate increased.
Evelyn had doubted herself, questioned her sanity these past few days. But in this very moment as she looked into his eyes she knew. In her heart she knew that her mind and memories were true. The fogginess that coated the memories instantly cleared and it all came back in the fullest of forces.
She then closed her eyes, breaking off their contact and let out a breath, stilling her emotions, head and heart in that moment. “My shoulder is fine, Dr. Reid,” she lied. “It’s healing very slowly, but steadily.”
“I see. Let me know how it develops, alright?” She reopened her eyes, glancing at him briefly before she let her gaze settle on her book and nodded. It seemed that he had no inkling about what she had experienced just now.
Good.
“Have a good night, Miss Walker.”
“Same to you, Dr. Reid.”
She heard him walk around her towards the corridor that ventured into the hospital to the other wards and after a few strides she let her eyes raise and watch his retreating back.
Determination settled in her gut. She had to protect everyone. She had to prove it.
Dr. Jonathan Reid was a real monster. Hidden behind human eyes. And Evelyn would tear of the mask, expose it to the light of the sun.
“For those who need us,” she seethed between her teeth and clenched her fists.
In the following day and nights Evelyn was running her shifts in the hospital and in Whitechapel with Dorothy Crane. She had shared with the woman and Darius her doubts about the good doctor. They had no opinion but they did not put down her ideas either.
In her spare time Evelyn was looking up multiple diseases that could make a human attack others in a fit of bloodlust and rage. Perhaps rabies? She even flicked through some that were closer to myths and superstitions than real medical conditions. Perhaps it was treatable, what Dr. Reid could suffer? Perhaps it was a mental disorder?
The longer she searched, the more determined she got. Her list of possible diseases getting longer, with most of them being crossed out later on as the likelihood of it being contracted by Reid, or with him suffering from a disorder, almost seemed impossible and didn’t add up.
One night she was sitting outside. The fresh air cooling her flushed face of exertion to a point that she almost shivered. Her hands were folded on her lap as she watched Nurse Branagan and Lady Ashbury go in and out tents. Voices hushed to not wake those who slept. Milton was talking to Rakesh. Suddenly Milton grabbed a suitcase and showed its contents to which Rakesh was raising eyebrows.
“It seems that God has heard my prayers.”
Evelyn almost startled, but could still her fright just in time. She looked up to see Sean Hampton. The Sad Saint.
His wounds were slowly healing, but the pastor was still deathly pale to the point that he shouldn’t even be out of bed. Normally Evelyn would have flung up and ushered him back inside and scold him for being up and about in his condition. But at this moment Evelyn did not have the energy.
The look on her face must have told him ‘why?’ because he smiled weakly and looked up to the dark skies. “Because it stopped raining.”
Just when he finished his sentence Evelyn felt something small and wet fall on her face. A drop. Sean Hampton chuckled. “I think He has enough of it.”
“Apparently so,” Evelyn curtly said, getting somewhat aggravated with the pastor’s presence. She had longed for some solitude, but apparently her forehead screamed; ‘LOOK! THE NURSE IS HERE TO HELP YOU ALWAYS AND ALWAYS.’ She stood up, grabbed her stool and went inside. The pastor following her and watched her put the stool in a corner. The place where she got it from.
Evelyn met Mr. Hampton’s gaze. “Can I help you? Before I usher you back to bed?” Her tone was low and showing more of her aggravation than she originally meant, but the outing of her irritation to the disturbance of her solitude felt good.
There was slight twinkle in his emerald eyes, despite the dark circles surrounding them. The mirth in it irked her more than it should.
“I feel like I should ask the same question, Nurse Walker.” He addressed her, the mirth still lingering but his tone not quite matching that. Underneath the utter of her function and name there was a serious undertone. “The wing of the hospital where I and several other patients reside could not but to overhear your.. discussion with Dr. Strickland and Ackroyd.”
Evelyn pressed her lips tightly together. Her argument about Harvey Fiddick and the lack of treatment still fresh and in the forefront of her mind. It angered her and she spilled some of it on the doctors that were supposed to treat him instead of arguing about it.
“I am fine pastor, just trying and hoping to find some solitude to still my mind,” Evelyn spilled somewhat. Deciding to be a bit honest. “Now if you will excuse me?”
Before she could turn around and leave, a hand touched her sore shoulder but did not grasp her. She could not help but flinch her arm away and feel alarmed.
The reaction was instinctive and natural after her attack, since the area was still very painful to touch like it had just been ripped open. It wasn’t healing properly and took way too slow. It worried Evelyn. But there was also some apprehension to show it to her colleagues and Dorothy. Something in the back of her head told her that she shouldn’t.
The pastor regarded her silently, with no judgement in his eyes. Not even the pity that she loathed. It was refreshing.
“Pray with me, child.”
He walked, more like stumbled, ahead of her to a secluded section of the hospital wing where he resided. Evelyn felt somehow compelled to follow him, despite that she was not a religious woman. Behind a screen curtain he sat on his bed and patted on the spot next to him.
When Evelyn sat down, Sean reached for his rose petal inside of his robes and folded it in his hand. The dark beads a stark contrast against his pale hand. He shifted so that he half faced her and painted a cross in front of her head with the hand holding the rose petal beads.
Instinctively Evelyn let her eyes fall close and folded her hands on her lap. The tip of his fingers rested upon her forehead. They were freezing cold.
“Dear Lord,” Sean’s voice softly prayed. “Let us heal underneath Your touch when Time could not. Let us sit here and be blessed with Your presence. Accept our humbleness beneath Your mercy. Let us be thankful for it.” He paused for a moment.
“Dear Lord, O great Lord, grant this woman before me the solitude and peace she seeks for she needs it. Grant her the love that she gives to the patients and those around her, but not to herself. Bestow your wisdom upon her so that she makes the right choices when You, O Lord, decide to test her in her darkest of times.”
Amen.