Rookery ~ Assassin's Creed Syndicate

Chapter Thirty Three

My arm was burning from the newly sewn stitches. Miss Nightingale had done a good job - no more bleeding, skin tightly stuck back together, a fresh dressing on top, tied properly instead of sloppily. I had passed out during the procedure, and I woke up again in the recovery room. I was laid on an uncomfortable stretcher. Jacob and Evie were talking in the corner. One of them dropped something, and I groaned at the noise. It split through my head and granted me with a headache. Someone stood roughly from their seat, the chair scraping backwards on the tiles. I threw a sloppy arm over my forehead.

"Stop making noise." I muttered slowly. The gentle click of boot heels approached me.

"You actually woke up. Miss Nightingale wasn't sure when you would." Jacob's voice was husky and soothing in my ear. His hands softly held onto the one on the end of my uninjured arm. "We were all worried."

"All?"

"I am also here. I came as soon as my research was finished." Henry spoke from the corner.

"Hello Henry." I tried to wave as best I could, but the pain was too much to bear all of a sudden.

"Hello Carina." He chuckled back. "I have some good news and bad news."

"Good news first, Greenie, then the bad news. Don't spare me the details."

"She sounds like she is on opiates." Henry winced slightly.

"Not opiates - morphine. Miss Nightingale saw the distress she was in when she first started and wanted to numb her slightly." Evie explained.

"Is that why I can see bugs flying around? Pretty, pretty butterflies."

"Yes, that is morphine..." Jacob grinned.

"The good news, Carina, is that we have found a way for our fund shortage to be fixed. We need money for equipment to weaken Starrick with and we have found an ally who has agreed to help us with our monetary issues - on one condition."

"What is that condition?"

"I will tell you when the medication wears off. You may end up agreeing to something which you don't fully understand while you are rather docile." I nodded.

"Alright, Greenie. How do I get off of these? Sleep? I can do that."

"Time, Miss Faraday." Miss Nightingale strolled in. "Only time can ensure your recovery from the morphine. I have come to check on your arm. I heard voices, including yours, so I figured that now would be the best time to come and see you." She reached for my injured arm. She untied the bandage and prodded at the wound. "What level of pain do you feel there? Low, moderate or high?"

"Moderate." She jabbed again and I winced. "High." She did it four more times, and those areas only gave moderate pain. She smiled sweetly at me.

"Right, everything seems fine. Once the painkillers have worn off, you can take her back home. I would suggest she doesn't do any physical work for a few weeks. At least not until the stitches are ready to come out and the wound has then healed over. I will look at the stitches again in one week."