Amadeus Arrhenius stumbled into the sick bay. Exhaustion nipped at his heels as he scrubbed his face with his knarled, caloused hands. He glared at his nephew as he made his way to the bar at the rear of the room.

“You had better have a damn good reason for waking me after all of that,” he growled as he made himself instant coffee.

“She has a fever,” he replied.

“I’m not surprised,” Arrhenius replied evenly. “I did put her body through hell removing what many would call a curse.”

“Listen to her breathing,” Ehren snapped.

Arrhenius turned to glare at his nephew again.

“Why the hell would I need to do that?” he growled.

A breathy laugh, followed by another fit of coughing came from Akira.

“You certainly aren’t a morning person are you, Master Arrhenius?” she rasped when the coughing subsided.

Arrhenius stared around Ehren to her. She laughed again but only for a moment before she dissolved into another fit of coughing.

“You shouldn’t be awake!” Arrhenius exclaimed when the intial shock had worn off. “How are you awake?”

“Don’t……know……” she gasped.

Her breathing was reduced to gasps and gulps.

“Ehren get my stethoscope,” Arrhenius ordered rushing to her side.

Ehren handed him the instrument and he instantly placed it against her back. He growled in frustration when he couldn’t hear her breath sounds through the bandages covering her back. He pulled out his knife and slashed her bandages open. He placed his stethoscope against her skin. She flinched, whether at the cold metal or at the pain she felt at him touching her flayed skin he wasn’t sure. He cursed under his breath when he still couldn’t hear her breath sounds.

“Her lungs must be filling with fluid,” he muttered to himself.

“Tell me what you need, Uncle Arri,” Ehren said.

Arrhenius looked to him in surprise.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Ehren insisted.

Arrhenius nodded and directed him to the supplies he would need. Ehren, to his credit, moved quickly and efficiently around the room. He colleted the supplies and brought them to Arrhenius without a word. He’d even slipped on gloves at some point during his supply collection.