Heaven in Hell

IS IT OVER?

DR. DARCY'S POV:

"This hell week is secured. Pile up in the infirmary. You don't have to report to training for the next two days. Rest, eat and get better. We start again then."

I expected cheers and hoots after this announcement but the boys and Kyra were half-dead energy-less oldies shaking from the cold and the effort it took for them to keep going day-in day-out. Only meek yes and nods could be seen all around. Silently and with great effort, they all piled up in the infirmary. I had expected this situation, hence yesterday after my chores, I had arranged for extra beds in there.

When Mr. Darhk made a move to go to his room, I tapped on his shoulder and spoke, "You would have to be in the infirmary too."

He raised his eyebrow at me as if challenging me to repeat it. I am not one to back down from a challenge. So I said, "You have been in the same cold atmosphere, though clothed better, yet still quite exposed without any warm clothes covering you. A pair of trek suit is not enough. You haven't slept the past week. In fact, you have been more vigil to ensure everybody is safe. You have skipped meals to make arrangements. Shall I go on or you get the picture, Mr. Darhk?"

With his eyes down, Mr. Darhk walks ahead of me to the infirmary, muttering 'prescott's righteous ass doctor'. I let a small smile grace on my lips at his childish petulance from simply going to the infirmary. These men give too much points to their machoism.

As soon as I enter the infirmary, I blow a whistle, making everybody jump to attention and look for danger. Chief, on the other hand, is lying on the bed calmly with amusement clearly visible on his face. Ignoring him, I announce, "Change into some clean dry clothes. There is one for each of you at the table near the door. Use the empty drawers near your bed to elevate your feet when you go to sleep. I'll wake you up from time to time to force you to have a cold shower, check your health and temp. Do not panic. I'll bring you food and water too. Do not argue when I do. We clear?"

Again, meek yeses are heard before they drag themselves for a much needed change of clothes and sleep. I go to Chief Darhk first. He is already in bed with dry clothes about to fall asleep. My work is cut out for the next two days.

--

A day later

I wake Mr. Darhk up for lunch after I have fed and checked on the others. He can wait for really messing these people up. After eating his lunch, instead of going back to bed like he normally does, Chief points across his bed to Mr. Prescott and asks, "Do you not feel sorry for him? How do you see this? Do you not love him?"

Smiling, I say, "There is no point in asking how you know. But Prescott had a feeling that you might know. Poor man was sweating it a lot, worried to almost death of how you would take it. He had come up with some likely scenarios. Each getting worse as time passed. It was fun to watch him squirm over something this small."

Chief merely smiles and motions for me to continue, so I let him in on a secret, "Chief, you confuse love with something else. I love him. But here, I'm not his wife and he is not my husband. We both are clear on that. When I fell in love with him and married, I knew he was a man who had this other life and purpose. I never asked him to leave that. He too knew that I had a whole other life and purpose. I would not leave that either. Those things are difficult. I can see that. But he chose this. I will support it as long as it is his choice. Besides, this is just training. I know training can be much worse and brutal than actual field. I actually want it to be brutal than the actual field. Because here, he will always have the best people looking over him while out there, he may not survive if you went easy on him today.

Does it pain me? Do I feel pity for him? Hell, yes. But love is not protecting the other. That is parenting. Love is letting them know that you support them in their suicide mission as long as they have thought it over and chose to do it, despite the painful path you will be walking on and untimely death it leads to."

Chief looks unconvinced, but continues with his inquiry, "Then why don't you leave your profession and help him? After all, he sacrifices so much for his motherland"

I hate this line, but I answer with a smile nonetheless. "I sacrifice so much for my patients. Does that mean that they should worship the ground I walk on? No. Just like a soldier, a prostitute loses all rights over her own body. She has to keep fit, has no choice but to follow through on what is asked. In fact, her life is much more difficult than a soldier's. So, we should give her the same respect we give a soldier, at the very least, shouldn't we?

Chief, each of our profession have sacrifices. We know that and we enter that world of pain with our eyes wide open. Nobody forced us to choose our profession. Every person's life is equally difficult. His appears as difficult as it is. But that does not mean that his is the most difficult one or that he is entitled to privileges. He choose it. I did not force or ask him to be a soldier and protect my nation. He did it on his own, just like I decide to endure lifetime of sleepless nights and crazy schedules with zero social life when I stepped into medical field. So, no Chief, I don't think he deserves any more privileges than I do."

Chief, with a shit-eating grin, speaks, "Damn, Prescott really got a keeper."

I smile at his playfulness and go back to working knowing that Prescott would be really happy to hear his Chief's approval.

Around 1800 hours, I look around to find Mr. Darhk waking Prescott up. Before I protest, Mr. Darhk looks at me and speaks, "I just need a minute, doctor. I'll be gone then."

Prescott wakes up with a jerk, just like all the other times I touched him. The man has not yet calmed down. Seeing Mr. Darhk standing over him, instead of me, he tries scrambling to his feet. Unfortunately for him, the drawer with the blankets make it difficult for his still recovering body to move fast.

Before he ends up panicking or hurting himself, Mr. Darhk speaks, "Hold still, Prescott. Look at me and listen" Immediately, you can see Prescott stiffening to a rock in the same place where he was scrambling frantically.

Mr. Darhk continues, "You saw what happened throughout the week. You know what to do. Fix it. Call me when you are done. Am I clear?"

Before Prescott could revert with a loud 'Yes, Chief' which would have everybody else waking up with a jerk, Mr. Darhk interrupts, "Do not raise your voice, Prescott."

Prescott replies with a sharp, yet low voiced, 'Yes, Chief'. Mr. Darhk stares him down, clearly making Prescott nervous, before he nods and walks out of the infirmary to go wherever he came from. I would say, good riddance, but I know that it is far from over.