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Elf Academy Part Deux  by Fiondil

48: Recovery

Glorfindel came to, wondering why his jaw hurt and why he had his eyes closed. It took him several seconds to recognize the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed, though thankfully not dressed in a hospital gown. Someone had removed his shoes and the windbreaker he had been wearing as a concession to the Mortals, but otherwise he was fully dressed. He struggled to sit up, rubbing his jaw with one hand, trying to piece his memory together. Looking about, he saw another bed and realized that Alex was in it, his head bandaged. He climbed out of the bed and stumbled over to the sleeping Mortal, hooked up to several monitors quietly beeping away, and stared at him, slowly reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, as if to assure himself that he was real.

"He’ll recover."

Glorfindel gasped and turned to see the last person he expected to find standing in the middle of a hospital room and without conscious thought actually backed away until a wall prevented him from going any further.

Manwë, Elder King of Arda, watched in amusement as the Elf stood there gaping at him.

"What? No word of welcome? Not even a ‘Hi Manny, long time no see’?" the Vala asked, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed amusement and Glorfindel flinched at the soundless impression of laughter ringing through his mind, recognizing it as belonging to Lord Námo. Manwë’s smile broadened and he gestured for Glorfindel to approach. "Come here, son. I don’t bite. Let’s take a little walk."

Glorfindel hesitated for a moment and then straightened and came toward the Elder King but stopped before he reached him, glancing at Alex still sleeping.

"He will be well," Manwë said gently, casting a fond look at the sleeping Mortal. "There was swelling on his brain from the blow he experienced. It’s been relieved. The sons of Elrond have been here and gone, using their healing skills to help him recover sooner and I had Estë lend them a hand, though they were unaware of it. Now, why don’t we let him sleep in peace while we talk." He held out his hand and Glorfindel reluctantly took it and was not surprised to see reality shifting until they found themselves standing in a starlit alpine meadow and the night breeze was warm. All around he could feel life stirring and realized that they had somehow stepped from early autumn to early spring.

Glancing around, he did not recognize the place at all and gave the Vala a puzzled look. Manwë smiled. "We’re still in Arda, if that’s what you’re wondering. This is New Zealand."

"We never got to the southern hemisphere," Glorfindel said bemusedly. "Not sure why."

"Well, now you can say you have," Manwë retorted with a grin. "Why don’t you remove your socks and take a walk."

"Walk where?"

"Anywhere you like, son," Manwë said. "And when you’re ready, just come back and we’ll talk."

Not knowing what else to do, Glorfindel did as the Elder King bid, removing his socks and stuffing them in his pockets. He headed away, taking no particular direction, simply breathing in the fresh mountain air and reveling in the feel of the soft earth under his feet. He let the stars bathe him with their light and at one point found himself lying on his back, allowing the earth’s deep tranquility to seep into his soul even as he half-listened to the stars singing, somehow keeping time with the chirping of unseen crickets. He thought he might even have fallen asleep for a while, for he slowly came back to himself, feeling refreshed and grounded as he hadn’t felt since before the storm and everything that had followed. He sat up and looked around and saw Manwë still standing where he’d left him. Rising, he made his way back to the Elder King who gave him a benign smile.

"Feeling better?" the Vala asked.

Glorfindel could only nod.

"You’ve been under a great deal of strain lately," Manwë stated, "and understandably so, but your actions in the hospital earlier were uncalled for." And as mildly as the Vala spoke, there was a definite undertone of reproof and disapproval that made Glorfindel blush in chagrin.

"He was an arrogant...."

"Whatever his failings, he did not deserve your wrath and his superiors are in a better position to reprimand him than you. Your assaulting him only made a tense situation worse. You made an enemy tonight, son, where you should have made an ally or at least an unfriend. You and your people are in too precarious a situation right now to risk turning any Mortal from your cause."

"There are already people...."

"Yes, we know, and there is very little you or I can do about it. But you had an opportunity to do something in this case."

"What?" Glorfindel asked in genuine confusion.

"You could have simply kept your mouth shut and your temper under control," Manwë retorted sharply. "Vorondur and the Elrondionath could have and should have been the ones to handle young Stoner. You threatening him...." Manwë shook his head. "Well, it’s done and cannot be undone, but I would warn you, my son, to keep a firmer grip on your temper among the Mortals. They are not balrogs or even orcs. They are Eruhíni no less than you. How do you think Finrod would have handled this situation?"

Glorfindel shrugged, his eyes downcast. "He would probably have laughed in Stoner’s face."

"Thereby confusing the poor child even more than he already is," Manwë said with a chuckle. "But you see, there were other options. Now, why don’t we return? Young Artemus is waking and it’s best he does not wake alone."

"Where are the others?" Glorfindel asked.

"Young Derek is sleeping in the waiting room with Amroth and Vorondur keeping watch. Elrond’s sons are in the hospital cafeteria getting some rather wretched coffee for them all and Nimrodel has returned to Edhellond to inform the others of what has happened. Your students are safely back at the Academy, most of them sound asleep. So, if you’re ready?"

Glorfindel nodded and held out his hand for the Elder King to grasp and then reality shifted once again and they were back in the room with Alex who was just beginning to stir. Glorfindel quickly put his socks on against the coldness of the floor and then stood by Alex’s bed, turning on the bed light. The Mortal involuntarily flinched even with his eyes closed and then he was blinking them open, staring sightlessly for a few seconds until his eyes focused. He moaned slightly and reached up to touch the bandages on his head and Glorfindel could see the panic in his eyes.

"My head... what....?"

"It’s alright, Alex," Glorfindel said soothingly, reaching out to pull Alex’s arm down. "You’re going to be just fine."

But Alex either did not or would not listen to Glorfindel’s words, for he started thrashing about, his voice rising in near hysteria even as Glorfindel attempted to soothe him. "My head... what happened to my head? Where am I? What’s happened to me? Where’s my mom? I want...."

The monitors started going wild. "Alex, calm down. It’s going to be alright. Please, Alex." Glorfindel tried to hold the Mortal down as he attempted to sit up. Then the door opened and someone came in.

"Here now. What’s all this?"

Glorfindel looked up to see an older Mortal entering the room, recognizing him. "He just woke up, Geoff," he told the doctor, "and started thrashing. I can’t get him to calm down."

Dr. Geoffrey Harris nodded as he reached out and placed his hands on either side of Alex’s head. "Young man," he said in a commanding voice, "stop that at once. There’s no need to panic."

To Glorfindel’s amazement Alex stopped thrashing and looked up at the doctor whose expression had become compassionate. "M-my head...." Alex whimpered, reaching up with the hand that was free of IVs. Harris released his hold on Alex’s head and gently pulled the hand away from the bandages.

"You had some swelling on the brain from the blow you received," Harris said gently, "which is why, I suspect, you were feeling nauseous and disoriented, hmm?"

Alex nodded slightly.

"Yes, well, your friends got you here in time and we were able to relieve the swelling," Harris continued. "I’m afraid we had to shave your head, but your hair will grow back."

"My hair?" Alex asked bleakly, tears beginning to form.

"Yes, son, but as I said, it’ll grow back. In the meantime, I’ll get you a knit hat to wear. We have a cadre of little old ladies happily knitting them for our cancer patients. What’s your favorite color?"

"Blue," Alex answered almost automatically.

Harris nodded. "And can you tell me your name?"

"Which one?" Alex retorted weakly.

Harris merely raised an eyebrow. "Which is your favorite?" he asked.

"Alex," the Mortal answered, his eyes beginning to glaze over and his speech becoming somewhat incoherent, "I like Alex. I don’t like Artemus anymore. He’s too bad. I don’t want to be bad. Junior was bad. I had to kill Junior. He... I don’t want to be like Junior. Can I be Alex?"

Harris glanced at Glorfindel, giving him a knowing look before turning back to Alex, patting him on the arm in a rather grandfatherly manner. "You can be whoever you want to be, son. Now why don’t you go back to sleep. That’s it. All is well. Sleep."

Glorfindel watched as Alex struggled to keep awake, the Mortal fighting the urge to close his eyes. "Derek... I want to see...."

But he never finished the sentence, slipping back into unconsciousness, sighing deeply as sleep took him. Harris, in the meantime, was checking the young Man’s pulse, nodding in satisfaction as he then checked the IV, adjusting its flow slightly. Only then did he turn to face Glorfindel and started to speak to him, but Lord Manwë, who had remained still while the doctor dealt with Alex, stepped forward out of the shadows. If Harris was surprised he gave no indication.

"Lord Manwë," he said with a nod of his head, "and how are things in Valinor?"

Manwë smiled. "Just fine, Geoffrey. I am glad to see you doing well."

Glorfindel stared at them. "You know Lord Manwë?!" he asked Harris in bewilderment. "How do you know Lord Manwë?"

Both Harris and the Elder King chuckled, but it was Harris who answered. "Well, my Lord Glorfindel, while you’ve been busy training your soldiers for the Dagor Dagorath, I’ve been working at training my people, as well. Lord Manwë came to me, asking that I set up a training program for the medical personnel in preparation for expected casualties of the war."

"But it may never come in your lifetime," Glorfindel protested.

Harris nodded. "Most likely not, but I am grooming those who will take over for me when I am gone, so there will always be someone at St. Luke’s to handle the training over the years. Whenever this war comes, we’ll be ready, or as ready as anyone can possibly be in such a situation."

Glorfindel turned to Manwë, his expression becoming unreadable. "And you never thought to tell me, to let me know, so that I could coordinate things with Dr. Harris?"

"You would’ve been told eventually," Manwë said mildly. "This program is very recent and Geoffrey has barely started it."

"Indeed," Harris said. "I was planning to inform you after this term was over. I know you have too much to deal with while the Academy is in session."

"And how is your training going?" Manwë asked. "Have you found any likely candidates to take over for you when necessary?"

Glorfindel saw Harris raise an eyebrow at the Vala and suspected the question was more for his benefit than for the Elder King. Harris’ expression became wry. "Actually, Lord Glorfindel met him earlier, threatening to thrash him for his insolence."

"Stoner?!" Glorfindel exclaimed. "Stoner is your...." He stopped, too shocked to be able to speak further, glancing at Manwë, as if to see if this was all a joke, but Manwë’s expression, while compassionate, was also quite firm as he gave Glorfindel a nod.

"You have a great deal of fence-mending to do, my son," the Elder King said and then simply faded away without another word.

Glorfindel just stood there, his mouth gaping, staring at the space where the Vala had been. He started when he felt a hand on his arm and looked into Harris’ concerned face. "I wouldn’t be too worried Loren. Kyle Stoner is an able trauma doctor, one of the best I’ve seen in years, but he does have an arrogant streak in him that I hope time and experience will soften."

"He said I’d made an enemy tonight," Glorfindel retorted.

Harris shrugged. "Maybe yes, maybe no. I’ll be giving that young pup a formal dressing down later and he will tender apologies to you all. That will be your opportunity to make your own amends. Kyle is my choice as my successor whether you approve of it or not. You both will need to learn to live with each other. Best to start now."

"As if I don’t have enough to contend with," Glorfindel groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"I’m sure you’ll manage, my lord." He stressed the title and Glorfindel straightened and gave the Mortal a nod.

"Yes, I’m sure I will. How soon will Alex be released?"

"If there are no further complications, we can release him by Saturday or Sunday at the latest. Dan and Roy said they can put him into healing sleep once he came out of the drug-induced coma we put him in."

"Lord Manwë said they were still here," Glorfindel said, "along with Ron and Ryan."

Harris nodded. "Yes. I came here to check on Mr. Grant, to see if he was awake. Now I’ll go hunt up Dan and Roy and let them know. Since there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re free to leave anytime."

Glorfindel nodded. "I’ll just put on my shoes."

"You’ll find them under the bed," Harris said. Glorfindel reached down and picked up his shoes, slipping them on. Harris went to one of the lockers where patients could hang their clothes and drew out Glorfindel’s windbreaker, handing it to him. "I’m concerned about Mr. Grant’s, shall we say, identity issues, based on his response to my question about his name."

"Ron is counseling him about that," Glorfindel said evasively. "It’s not a multiple personality disorder or anything and he’s not a threat to others."

"Well, I’ll leave that in Ron’s capable hands, then," Harris said as he gestured for Glorfindel to exit the room. He led the way down a hall to the waiting room where they found the others. Derek, Glorfindel noticed, was groggily sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Elrohir handed him a styrofoam cup. Vorondur was the first to see them approach, giving Glorfindel an amused smile.

"If you didn’t outrank me, I would insist you attend some of my anger management classes," he said by way of greeting. Glorfindel just rolled his eyes while everyone else snickered.

"How’s Alex?" Derek asked, grimacing at the cup in his hand as he swallowed some coffee. "Can I see him?"

"He’s sleeping," Harris answered, "though he woke briefly a while ago." He turned to the Twins. "If you want to put him into healing sleep now, go ahead."

Elladan nodded. "How long do you want him in healing sleep?"

"As long as you can safely keep him," Harris replied. "I rely on your superior judgment in that."

"We’ll keep him under until Saturday, then," Elladan said and Elrohir nodded.

"If there are no further complications, I can release him on Sunday," Harris said.

The Twins nodded and set off for Alex’s room as Harris addressed the others. "I suggest you all go home and get some rest. Mr. Grant isn’t going anywhere. If there’s any change in his condition, I’ll let you know. Ron, if you, Loren and the Twins would come back tomorrow at your convenience, I’ll have Dr. Stoner give you all a proper apology."

"It’s not really necessary," Vorondur said.

"Oh, but it is, for all our sakes. Loren will explain," Harris said. "Now, I still have other patients to see, so I’ll bid you all a good-night." He gave them a short bow of his head and left, stopping at the reception desk to consult with the nurses there, leaving them to their own devices. Amroth was the first to stir.

"I’ll see Derek back to the college," he said, addressing Glorfindel. "We moved your van to the visitor’s parking lot."

Glorfindel nodded. "We’ll wait for Dan and Roy."

"Come along, Derek. Let’s get you home," Amroth said.

"I’d rather stay here," Derek protested.

"No," Glorfindel said firmly. "You go with Amroth and get some sleep. You still have classes tomorrow and Alex won’t awaken until sometime Saturday anyway. You can come back here when we bring him out of healing sleep. Off you go now."

He shooed the Mortal out of his seat and Amroth took him by the arm, leading him out of the building. Vorondur gave Glorfindel an amused look. "Well, while we’re waiting for the Twins, why don’t we sit and talk about your anger."

Glorfindel sighed, recognizing the Elf’s tone and nodded.

****

When they brought Alex out of healing sleep Saturday morning, Derek was there along with Glorfindel, Vorondur, Amroth and the Twins. Dr. Harris was also there, as was Dr. Stoner. The meeting between Stoner and the Elves the day before had been awkward, but the younger doctor, now suitably chastened, made his apologies to them all and Glorfindel also apologized and while it could not be said that they came away from the encounter bosom buddies, at least there was no overt hostility between them. Dr. Harris had insisted that Dr. Stoner be present and the Elves were wise enough not to argue, for they recognized that within the boundaries of St. Luke, Geoffrey Harris outranked them all.

Elrohir was the one who brought Alex out of healing sleep, softly calling his name while the two Mortal doctors kept an eye on the machines, watching Alex’s vitals. Alex slowly opened his eyes.

"That’s it, Alex. All the way," Elrohir said softly as he gently stroked Alex’s arm.

Alex blinked and frowned. "Where...?"

"You’re at St. Luke’s," Elrohir answered.

"Again?" Alex exclaimed.

The Elves and Derek chuckled. "Well, it’s your own fault for not watching where you were going," Derek said.

Alex reached up to touch the bandages on his head and Elrohir gently pulled the hand down. "We’ll probably be able to remove the bandages tomorrow," he said. "For now, leave them alone. Now, I know Dr. Harris and Dr. Stoner would like to check you over so the rest of us will step out while they do their examination. We won’t go far," he added, forestalling the panic that they could see beginning to rise in Alex’s eyes, "and as soon as they’re finished we’ll be back, okay?"

Alex nodded reluctantly. "Don’t worry, son," Harris said kindly. "This won’t take long and then your friends will rejoin you."

Everyone trooped out except the two Mortal doctors and waited silently in the hallway for the examination to be completed. Ten minutes later, Dr. Stoner stepped out, assuring them that Alex’s reflexes were all normal. "We’re going to try him on some food now and see how he does."

"Let’s hope it’s not beef broth," Derek said with a grin. "He hates it now."

Dr. Stoner actually smiled. "Well, we’ll see how he does with chicken noodle soup then," he said and then, giving them a nod, set off down the hall. Dr. Harris came out a minute later and allowed them to return to the room, warning them not to overstay their visit.

****

Sunday, only Glorfindel and Elrohir were present, along with Derek, when Dr. Harris removed Alex’s bandages. Dr. Stoner was also present, voicing his objections, saying the incision hadn’t had time to properly heal, but Dr. Harris simply dismissed him with a "We’ll see" as he removed the final layer. Glorfindel could see the young Man’s head was fully shaved, leaving only a stubble of hair. An incision ran along the top right side of Alex’s head and he could see that it was fully closed, the sutures no longer visible. Dr. Stoner just gaped but Elrohir nodded in satisfaction.

"Better than I thought," he said as he ran a deft hand over the incision that looked as if it were weeks old instead of only a couple of days.

"Lord Manwë said he would have Lady Estë look in on him," Glorfindel said, eschewing to tell the younger Elf the truth.

"How bad is it?" Alex asked anxiously as he reached up to feel for himself. "My hair...."

"Will grow back soon enough," Dr. Harris assured him. "Here. You said blue was your favorite color." He pulled out a knit hat from a deep pocket. It was a deep blue that nearly matched the color of Alex’s eyes. Harris gently put the hat on Alex’s head and then handed him a mirror so he would see himself.

"Now, I want you to keep that incision clean using a pre-surgical scrub solution that you can pick up at the pharmacy on your way out. Don’t use soap or shampoo on your head for the next week. I want to see you next Friday but if you experience any dizziness or nausea or double-vision, you are to let Loren know immediately, do you understand?"

Alex nodded.

"Good. Now, Dr. Stoner will remove the IV while I go sign the release papers. Then you can get dressed and be on your way. You’re to take it easy for the rest of the week. Attend your classes, but no phys. ed. classes until next week."

With that he left and Dr. Stoner competently removed the IV, then left as well, leaving the Elves and Derek to help Alex out of the bed to dress. Fifteen minutes later, armed with a bottle of pre-surgical scrub solution and the release papers, Derek wheeled Alex out of the hospital and headed for Loren’s van and then they were on their way back to the Academy.





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