Charles gritted his teeth as he watched Doctor White try to convince the man to let Connor's old friends and comrades visit him.
"He needs friendly faces about him, ones that do not see him as an empty vessel for lust and ones that do not resent him for detesting you."
It was a very reasonable argument. Even Charles, as generally apathetic as he was about medicine, knew of the beneficial effects that friends, trusted comrades and family could bring. Why, whenever he was ill, he sought out the company of Spado and his other dogs. Just having their softly panting bodies next to him as he stroked their soft fur always made him feel better and livelier, and he always seemed to recover faster too.
"Out of the question."
His counterpart, it seemed, did not agree.
"Mr. Lee..."
"Commander."
"Commander Lee, as his professional physician, I must recommend that you allow your wife near the things and people with which he has good association."
The other Charles shrugged.
"I allowed him to be taken outside, did I not?"
Charles could clearly see Doctor White struggling not to punch the man.
"Yes," the good doctor said through gritted teeth. "But it is hardly enough to spur any change. He needs familiar faces, people who truly care for him and wish him well."
"And are you not a friendly face?"
"I," Doctor White stressed, "am only one friend. The more you surround him with, the better. Doctor Davies is correct that there is little physically wrong with him. He was a bit malnourished, no doubt due to his extended lapse, but it should slowly be corrected with his new diet."
"I fail to see the problem then."
"He does not wake. There is a problem. We know it rests not in the body, so it must rest elsewhere."
"But do you know what it is?"
Charles could see Doctor White slowly counting to ten.
"No, but I believe it is an affliction of the mind."
"You believe." It was only slightly mocking.
Doctor White did not rise to the bait.
"Yes, I believe. And since this suggestion is relatively harmless, I do not understand your refusal to consider it."
Charles thought he understood his counterpart's refusal. This Connor had been an Assassin, and from what he understood, his counterpart had kept a number of his wife's recruits alive as collateral. If he let them near him...
"Surely your wife must have many friends to choose from?" He suggested. He did not know for sure about this Connor, save the association with Doctor White, but his own Connor had been friends with a man named Dave, Ellen, a number of the people in Boston, Noah, Clipper...
Though he supposed Noah would never have survived in this world. He had blossomed only under the guidance of the Templars and without that...
Without that, he would have starved in the streets when the orphanage kicked him out as he came of age. Or forced to prostitute himself. What terrible thoughts these were to be having about their best spymaster and Binns' adopted son, but it was very probable that that had been Noah's fate in this world.
A thought came to him.
"You mentioned that your wife was friends with a Clipper C-Wilkinson?"
His counterpart growled.
"Collins now. The Omega's name is Collins."
Ah yes. The Omega had also wed James in this world, though it was likely not by choice.
How twisted they had all become. All strange this world was, and all because the other Charles had had the audacity to strangle Connor.
"What about Mr. Collins then? Surely, as you are well acquainted with his husband, it should be no difficulty?"
His counterpart scowled and threw a furtive glance at Doctor White.
"I do not know him well. I do not trust him in my house."
Charles lifted an eyebrow in surprise. Really. And he had still given him away to James?
"Do you not trust his husband then?"
"Of course. James, as you know, is of an impeccable character. A bit soft at times, but stalwart."
"Then," Charles continued, "can you not consult with him for his opinion? If he vouches for his wife's good behavior..."
The other Charles looked displeased at that.
"It can do no harm to consult him, at the least."
His counterpart scowled again.
"I do not see the point. James is a busy man, and I would not call upon him for no reason."
Charles stared incredulously at him.
No reason? The chance to help his wife while mitigating the risks of letting ex-Assassins near him was 'no reason?' Did the man wish his wife to recover at all?
"Well," Charles thought about it. "What about his other friends?"
He turned to Doctor White.
"Does Mr. Lee have any other friends? Acquaintances?"
Doctor White nodded.
"There is Ellen, a seamstress," and Charles started at that, "Big Dave, a blacksmith, old man Faulkner who was Connor's first mate though he has not yet returned from a months long trip down south, Norris and Mi--"
"No," Charles's counterpart interrupted, "I will not allow them into my house."
Charles stared at him. This was ridiculous. This was beyond ridiculous. The man was deliberately hindering his wife's progress at this point for no reason!
Ellen and Dave were certainly not Assassins or they would have been long jailed for it, and Charles could not comprehend why his counterpart would deny this.
"And why is that?" Doctor White asked.
"I need not answer," he replied. "Suffice to say, my wife will not see any of those...people. That is my final word."
Yes, Charles's counterpart was a problem indeed.
Charles shared a glance with Doctor White. The Omega looked as troubled as he felt.
If the man kept turning down their suggestions like this, if things continued on the way they had been...
Charles remembered how pale and wan this world's Connor looked. He remembered the purple bruises that Doctor White had uncovered, peeking slyly up at them from the opened nightgown as Doctor White worked to massage Connor's belly. They were mostly hidden, but one strayed too close to the edge of the nightgown, and Doctor White had pushed the cloth aside to uncover more.
It had infuriated them both, seeing those purple bruises on the Omega's hips, to know that not only was Charles's counterpart still slaking his lusts on his wife, he was doing so almost viciously.
As if he was taking his anger and frustration out on his helpless wife in a forced and rough coupling.
It made Charles feel ill, seeing those bruises. This Connor would never get better. He had daily proof of the atrocities that would greet him when he regained himself. And Charles would never be able to return home to his son.
This other Charles was beginning to be an obstacle. And obstacles needed to be removed.
Finding Connor 22
Chapter 21
The other Charles was troublesome.
Charles gritted his teeth as he watched Doctor White try to convince the man to let Connor's old friends and comrades visit him.
"He needs friendly faces about him, ones that do not see him as an empty vessel for lust and ones that do not resent him for detesting you."
It was a very reasonable argument. Even Charles, as generally apathetic as he was about medicine, knew of the beneficial effects that friends, trusted comrades and family could bring. Why, whenever he was ill, he sought out the company of Spado and his other dogs. Just having their softly panting bodies next to him as he stroked their soft fur always made him feel better and livelier, and he always seemed to recover faster too.
"Out of the question."
His counterpart, it seemed, did not agree.
"Mr. Lee..."
"Commander."
"Commander Lee, as his professional physician, I must recommend that you allow your wife near the things and people with which he has good association."
The other Charles shrugged.
"I allowed him to be taken outside, did I not?"
Charles could clearly see Doctor White struggling not to punch the man.
"Yes," the good doctor said through gritted teeth. "But it is hardly enough to spur any change. He needs familiar faces, people who truly care for him and wish him well."
"And are you not a friendly face?"
"I," Doctor White stressed, "am only one friend. The more you surround him with, the better. Doctor Davies is correct that there is little physically wrong with him. He was a bit malnourished, no doubt due to his extended lapse, but it should slowly be corrected with his new diet."
"I fail to see the problem then."
"He does not wake. There is a problem. We know it rests not in the body, so it must rest elsewhere."
"But do you know what it is?"
Charles could see Doctor White slowly counting to ten.
"No, but I believe it is an affliction of the mind."
"You believe." It was only slightly mocking.
Doctor White did not rise to the bait.
"Yes, I believe. And since this suggestion is relatively harmless, I do not understand your refusal to consider it."
Charles thought he understood his counterpart's refusal. This Connor had been an Assassin, and from what he understood, his counterpart had kept a number of his wife's recruits alive as collateral. If he let them near him...
"Surely your wife must have many friends to choose from?" He suggested. He did not know for sure about this Connor, save the association with Doctor White, but his own Connor had been friends with a man named Dave, Ellen, a number of the people in Boston, Noah, Clipper...
Though he supposed Noah would never have survived in this world. He had blossomed only under the guidance of the Templars and without that...
Without that, he would have starved in the streets when the orphanage kicked him out as he came of age. Or forced to prostitute himself. What terrible thoughts these were to be having about their best spymaster and Binns' adopted son, but it was very probable that that had been Noah's fate in this world.
A thought came to him.
"You mentioned that your wife was friends with a Clipper C-Wilkinson?"
His counterpart growled.
"Collins now. The Omega's name is Collins."
Ah yes. The Omega had also wed James in this world, though it was likely not by choice.
How twisted they had all become. All strange this world was, and all because the other Charles had had the audacity to strangle Connor.
"What about Mr. Collins then? Surely, as you are well acquainted with his husband, it should be no difficulty?"
His counterpart scowled and threw a furtive glance at Doctor White.
"I do not know him well. I do not trust him in my house."
Charles lifted an eyebrow in surprise. Really. And he had still given him away to James?
"Do you not trust his husband then?"
"Of course. James, as you know, is of an impeccable character. A bit soft at times, but stalwart."
"Then," Charles continued, "can you not consult with him for his opinion? If he vouches for his wife's good behavior..."
The other Charles looked displeased at that.
"It can do no harm to consult him, at the least."
His counterpart scowled again.
"I do not see the point. James is a busy man, and I would not call upon him for no reason."
Charles stared incredulously at him.
No reason? The chance to help his wife while mitigating the risks of letting ex-Assassins near him was 'no reason?' Did the man wish his wife to recover at all?
"Well," Charles thought about it. "What about his other friends?"
He turned to Doctor White.
"Does Mr. Lee have any other friends? Acquaintances?"
Doctor White nodded.
"There is Ellen, a seamstress," and Charles started at that, "Big Dave, a blacksmith, old man Faulkner who was Connor's first mate though he has not yet returned from a months long trip down south, Norris and Mi--"
"No," Charles's counterpart interrupted, "I will not allow them into my house."
Charles stared at him. This was ridiculous. This was beyond ridiculous. The man was deliberately hindering his wife's progress at this point for no reason!
Ellen and Dave were certainly not Assassins or they would have been long jailed for it, and Charles could not comprehend why his counterpart would deny this.
"And why is that?" Doctor White asked.
"I need not answer," he replied. "Suffice to say, my wife will not see any of those...people. That is my final word."
Yes, Charles's counterpart was a problem indeed.
Charles shared a glance with Doctor White. The Omega looked as troubled as he felt.
If the man kept turning down their suggestions like this, if things continued on the way they had been...
Charles remembered how pale and wan this world's Connor looked. He remembered the purple bruises that Doctor White had uncovered, peeking slyly up at them from the opened nightgown as Doctor White worked to massage Connor's belly. They were mostly hidden, but one strayed too close to the edge of the nightgown, and Doctor White had pushed the cloth aside to uncover more.
It had infuriated them both, seeing those purple bruises on the Omega's hips, to know that not only was Charles's counterpart still slaking his lusts on his wife, he was doing so almost viciously.
As if he was taking his anger and frustration out on his helpless wife in a forced and rough coupling.
It made Charles feel ill, seeing those bruises. This Connor would never get better. He had daily proof of the atrocities that would greet him when he regained himself. And Charles would never be able to return home to his son.
This other Charles was beginning to be an obstacle. And obstacles needed to be removed.