Collaboration with @silmarilz1701
Svetlana knew how to play the game. She'd been caught in the political drama of Stalin's inner circle since birth. The only child of one of Stalin's closest friends, she grew up in the limelight, scrutinized by frie...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"How are you feeling?"
Zhanna had grown tired of that question but she knew that the speaker wouldn't leave her be until she answered.
"I feel fine," She pulled the pillow over her head, tighter, trying to block out any sound or light from the temporary room.
"I don't believe you," Spina said, ripping back the blanket and trying to prise the pillow from her grip.
Zhanna had never had much of an opinion of Ralph Spina outside of the usual respect for a medic. She didn't know him well and had never cared to know him. He was a medic, he would have her back. What was the point of pursuing an alliance or friendship with the men required to be distant and aloof?
Well, Roe had excelled at maintaining a distance from the men. Spina's personality didn't lend itself to that type of requirement.
"Good morning, sunshine," Spina said, smugly, his face swimming into view in her still blurry vision.
While he was a bit brighter and louder than Roe, she did appreciate his no nonsense approach. There was no coddling, there was no tiptoeing as if she was made of glass. She might have been but if she shattered, Zhanna wouldn't have considered it a great loss of any kind. The officers had avoided her out of pity or fear, she didn't know. She had long since decided that it was fine. She didn't want very many people to see her like this anyway.
Zhanna could have been sent to a field hospital or back to England, to recover. Those were all options that had been tossed around while she sat huddled in that wool blanket. The wool blanket that Spina clutched in his fist, leaving her out in the brisk May morning.
She had refused to be sent off the line and Sink had agreed, with conditions. So as to avoid the contamination of two medics, Zhanna had been quarantined with Spina while Roe still mixed among the men. Though she had passed the time thinking of terrible fates for his cap, Zhanna knew her fate was better than any of the other former prisoners. At least she was free.
"Now, how are you feeling?" Spina asked again.
She didn't have to lie to him. She could be honest with him. There were the usual pains and aches. The dizziness that hadn't subsided even after five days of food and water. The nightmares of darkness, just blank black, didn't help matters.
"Are we being transferred again?" Zhanna asked. The movements outside of her room and under her window had been more frantic, more anticipated.
"And if we were?" Spina said. "Why would I tell you?"
Zhanna had rarely been the patient, she had been the caretaker. The concerned bedside visitor. She didn't like being the one being fretted over. Spina didn't fret but his attention was uncomfortable. Zhanna just wanted to crawl under her blankets or be among the men again. The latter wasn't an option so she reached for the wool blanket in Spina's grasp.
