Romanowski and Rosemary

54. Genes & Oxytocin

Coretta

It quickly became apparent that handling Julian was no easy feat for the scientists.

His strength, even diminished by the unfamiliar environment and medical procedures, was far beyond anything they were prepared for.

They discussed how it would take several highly trained personnel, armed with sedatives and restraints, to simply draw blood or administer an injection.

The sight of these brilliant minds, so accustomed to control and precision, reduced to a flustered, almost comical state of panic around Julian, never failed to amuse me.

It was as if they believed one punch from him would send them straight to meet their maker.

Of course, I voiced out against using harsh sedatives or restraints on him, and the department was human enough to listen.

Why would they not? I immediately found that my presence and status had increased exponentially, ever since they knew I found an unknown kingdom, all by myself.

Eventually, they realised that Julian was the most cooperative in my presence. With me by his side, holding his hand and offering words of reassurance, he allowed them to perform their tests and treatments with minimal resistance.

I made sure to advocate for him, insisting on the most humane methods possible and shielding him from unnecessary discomfort.

The doctors, recognizing the calming effect I had on Julian, gradually relaxed their stringent protocols. They allowed us to spend more time together, even permitting him to leave the confines of his room under my supervision.

It was clear they were still wary of him, but they also saw that he was, for the most part, a reasonable and even gentle man when I was around.

I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. In a place that feared and misunderstood him, I was his anchor, his protector.

Just like he had been to me, in his world.

And in his eyes, I saw a reflection of that same fierce loyalty and unwavering love.

The small, white room was a stark contrast to the opulent chambers Julian was accustomed to. I sat beside his bed, his hand enveloped in mine, as I fed him spoonfuls of the bland, medicinal soup.

The beeping monitors and sterile scent of the hospital were a small price to pay for the miracle of having him here, in my world, alive.

His brow furrowed in distaste as he swallowed another dose of the unappetizing broth. "This is an insult to my palate," he grumbled, his voice still raspy from the procedures.

I chuckled, my heart swelling with affection. "It's medicine, my love. It'll help your body adjust. Think of it as a... a necessary evil."

His lips quirked into a faint smile, gaze meeting mine. "For you, I shall endure even the most vile concoctions."

My words were confident, but a knot of anxiety tightened in my chest.

Despite the success of the reverse gene therapy on my own body, and the ongoing treatment to adapt Julian's ancient physiology to the 21st century, a part of me still feared the worst.

What if his body rejected the treatments? What if he succumbed to an infection, a simple cold that could prove fatal to his weakened immune system, as Aarmen had stated?

I pushed the dark thoughts aside, focusing on the warmth of his hand in mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was alive, here with me, in my world. It was a miracle, a scientific or an otherworldly miracle, that I didn't know.