Pax Propter Vim [Azur Lane Fanfic]

Chapter 27

Formosa Naval Base, Medical Wing, Room 07.

08:12 AM.

January 22, 1942.

Zumwalt's eyes fluttered open, the ceiling above her sterile white, laced with thin cracks that spider-webbed out like veins of a tired heart. The fluorescent lights hummed gently, casting a soft glow that felt far too peaceful for what she remembered last.

Her hands moved slowly, fingers stretching against the cool linen sheets. She glanced down—an IV needle was taped to her arm, lines snaking up to a bag of clear fluid. Her whole body ached, like she’d run a thousand miles on broken glass.

Her throat was parched—desert-dry. On the small side table beside her, a glass of water sat glistening like a tiny miracle. With effort, she reached out, gripping it carefully and sipping slowly. The water felt like it revived her soul, cool and clean as it trickled down her throat.

As she placed the glass back down, the door clicked open.

Vestal stepped inside, clipboard under one arm, her lab coat slightly crumpled, and—Zumwalt blinked—three or four distinct scratch marks across her face, like she’d been wrestling a particularly aggressive house cat.

Zumwalt’s mouth opened.
"Wh—"

But Vestal just raised her right hand, palm up, eyes half-lidded with the exhaustion of a thousand sleepless nights.
"Nope. Don’t even ask. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everybody’s fine."

Zumwalt shut her mouth, eyebrows still raised, but a soft chuckle escaped her. Vestal caught it, giving her a sharp look that softened almost immediately. With a sigh, she walked over and settled into the chair beside the bed, setting the clipboard down with a gentle thud.

"Alright, honey." Vestal began, her voice steady and smooth, as if slipping into a role she knew like second nature. "I’m gonna give it to you straight. You were in rough shape—like, ‘we almost threw in a prayer just to be safe’ kind of shape. Your ship form was practically in ribbons, and whatever that thing was inside you? It tried to eat you alive."

Zumwalt stared at her, eyes wide. Vestal leaned forward, her voice dropping to something more tender. "But you made it. Thanks to a hell of a team effort. Enterprise, Laffey… even Richelieu. We managed to drag your stubborn ass back from whatever hellhole that spirit tried to shove you into."

Zumwalt’s hand instinctively went to her chest, feeling the bandages beneath her gown. "I—I don’t remember…"

"You wouldn’t." Vestal replied, her voice softening even more. "You were out cold. You were barely even you. Whatever that corruption was… it fought back. Hard."

Zumwalt’s fingers tightened around the sheets. "I remember… I remember Laffey. And Enterprise. There was… light. And a lot of darkness."

Vestal gave her a small, encouraging smile. "That’s ‘cause those two didn’t give up on you. Enterprise was about ready to bulldoze her way through Hell if it meant getting you back. And Laffey? That little bundle of sleepiness wouldn’t let go of your hand. Not for one second."

Zumwalt’s eyes watered just a bit. "Laffey… She’s okay?"

"She’s more than okay." Vestal chuckled. "She’s down in the mess hall right now, probably snoring into a stack of pancakes."

Zumwalt laughed—a small, broken sound that cracked through her dry throat, but it was real. Vestal leaned back, crossing her legs and giving her a nod of approval. "There we go. See? You’re not dead. And that’s a pretty good place to start."

Zumwalt managed a smile. "Thanks, Doc."

Vestal raised an eyebrow. *Oh, I’m a doctor now? Alright, I’ll take it." She leaned forward again, her eyes softening. "Look, I’m gonna be around a lot for the next few weeks. You’re not out of the woods yet, kiddo. I wanna make sure your first impression of me is a good one."