The Paleys (1921-1927) - An Alternate Romanov Story

Relief

The night crawled by. Just as the doctor had warned, the morphine lost a little more of its effect as the hours dragged, one after the other. When the last rays of light filtered through the window, Alexei was already tossing and turning and, at this point, the fourth dose the doctor injected only gave him relief for a couple of hours before he grew restless again.

Natalia had hardly left the room. She felt her own tiredness taking over, her muscles sore from the effort of the night before, her eyelids heavy after spending almost twenty-four hours awake, but she braved through everything. Her small discomforts seemed insignificant compared to the inhuman pain Alexei was experiencing. At times, it almost felt like he recognised her. His eyes became focused enough to linger on her for a moment, but when he tried to speak, no sound came out of his mouth. He was too drained to speak, and Natalia quietly whispered for him to remain still and avoid any unnecessary effort.

As darkness settled over the garden outside, Alexei's quiet groans of pain began to fill the room again. Around nine that evening, the doctor administered the fifth dose, but its effects were nearly nonexistent this time. His face was pale and damp with perspiration, the shadows beneath his eyes deeper and more pronounced with each passing hour.

Closer to one in the morning, he was screaming as loudly as he had in that morning. Most people had left by that time, and only Natalia, Vladimir, and two of the doctors had remained by Alexei's side. The specialist had left to prepare for the blood transfusion he would perform between Anastasia and Alexei as soon as she arrived from England, and while they waited, there was nothing they could do to ease Alexei's pain.

Natalia had given up her seat on the chair and was now lying on the bed next to Alexei, afraid to touch him, should that mean more pain to him. However, she was close enough so that he would know she was there. Again, her decision had come with protests from Vladimir and the doctors, but they soon realized that, although Alexei kept on screaming in pain, he didn't flinch as much when he felt Natalia by his side.

"It's possible that her presence relaxes him somehow," Natalia heard the doctor whisper to Vladimir somewhere in the middle of the night. "We were never sure what techniques the Mad Monk used with him, but the truth was that the Empress felt calmer when he was present, which helped the boy deal with the illness better. Maybe your sister has the same reassuring effect."

Vladimir heard the doctor intently, and then he nodded slowly, accepting that what he had said made some sense.

"Yes," Vladimir whispered back. "I remember Grand Duchess Olga telling me something along those lines a few years ago."

After that, no one else questioned her presence, and they let her stay by Alexei's side for the rest of the night. For Natalia, those hours felt like days. Her mind must have gotten used to the screaming at some point because it didn't sound as bone-chilling as the first time she had walked into the room. When dawn broke, she even dared hold Alexei's hand, trying to calm him down. She remembered the doctor's words about how feeling relaxed could help him, so she started to think of funny stories that she whispered into his ear, hoping he could listen through his daze.

"Do you remember when we stole your tutor's boots in Gatchina?" Natalia whispered. She tried to keep her voice light, but it came out trembling.

Alexei didn't respond for a moment, and she wondered if he'd even heard her. Then, with great effort, his lips moved. 

"...Boots?" he murmured, barely audible.

She nodded quickly, leaning closer. 

"Yes, when he took them off by the lake. I think it was because it was a hot day, and he thought no one was around, but I was with Tata nearby, and we saw him. I thought I would never get another opportunity to make his life miserable, so I filled them with water and hid them behind a tree. Do you remember?"

His eyelids fluttered weakly, and a faint sound, almost like a sigh, escaped him. It might have been a laugh—or just his laboured breathing—but Natalia took it as a sign to continue.

"He spent hours looking for them, stomping around and yelling. I thought he'd explode when he found them soaking wet," she said, hoping he could hear the smile in her tone.

A flicker of something passed over Alexei's face—perhaps amusement or just a faint acknowledgement. His fingers twitched against hers, the slightest motion, but it felt monumental.

"You were so mad at him that day," she continued, her throat tightening. "And I just couldn't stand how he constantly yelled at you. Someone had to put him in his place."

His lips parted, and she leaned closer, barely catching his strained whisper.

"Always... you."

Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, willing herself to stay composed.

"Always me," she agreed softly, gently brushing his hair.

He exhaled shakily, and the effort seemed to take everything out of him. But she kept holding his hand, whispering more stories, determined to keep his mind occupied. As if by some miracle, when the first rays of light broke into his room, he fell into an uneasy sleep, possibly brought on by his deep exhaustion.

Natalia must have drifted off, too, because one moment, she was looking into Alexei's pale face, and the other, someone was pulling her away from him. It took her a moment to situate herself and understand what was happening, but now the room was once again fully lit by the morning light and full of people. She realized that her brother Vladimir had pulled out of bed and was now discreetly carrying her away.

In the quick survey she did of the scene she was leaving behind, Natalia recognized the specialist, who had returned, Alexei's father, who had taken her place beside the bed, and a hunched little woman dressed in a nun habit, who she only later recognized as the former Empress. In the corridor, she passed Anastasia, who was taking off her snow-covered coat and rushing into the room. She was the last person allowed inside before the door closed, and the sound of a lock turning was enough warning to keep everyone else away.

Still dazed, Natalia looked up to her brother.

"Is he going to be alright?" She asked.

Vladimir tried to smile, although the corners of his mouth barely twitched.

"He's with his family now, Natasha," he replied. "You did very well. You were the bravest person in this house, but now we've got to leave it up to them, and you've got to rest."

She wanted to argue, to insist on staying, but the exhaustion weighed her down, and she knew that now that Alexei's family had arrived, it was their place to take care of him and not hers. She would have to give them space. And so, she let herself lean into her brother's steadying embrace, nodding as her eyes drifted shut again.