Frankie's face was pinched in concentration as she rubbed my cheekbones with the fluffy brush. I don't usually let her give me makeovers, but today was an exception, I suppose. "Don't blink." She commanded. I felt the tip of the mascara wand swipe at my eyelashes and I resisted the incredible urge to push her hand away and rub at my eye. When she was finished, she inspected my face. "Alright. Your face is done." She grabbed a brush and started running it through my dark hair. When the tangles were all out, she walked in a circle around my chair, deciding what to do with my hair. She put her chin in her hands, but then huffed. "You look too good with your hair down... Let's just keep it that way."
"Fine by me. Thanks." I stood up and changed out of my pajamas. I dropped down the stairs, my wings catching the air as I fell. Joseph ran up to me, his eyes wide and voice shaky.
"Angie, Emily is sick!" He led the way to her room and I saw Emily, through the open door, lying on her bed. Walking to her side, I could see a layer of sweat on the 7 year-old's face.
"Jo, can you run upstairs and get my bag?" He nodded and took off. I looked back at Emily, who was gazing sleepily back at me. "How do you feel, Em?" I brushed her hair back from her head and held my wrist to her temple. She shrugged weakly and she felt really hot. Fever. My mind was immediately filled with the various steps and tips for recovery. Joseph returned with my bag and I smiled. "It's just a fever, Buddy. Can you go ask someone to boil water for you and get a cold, wet rag for her head?" He nodded and shot off again, leaving me giggling at his dedication. "You're going to be fine, Emily." I opened my bag and searched through it. Taking out a disinfectant wipe, I cleaned the end of a thermometer and stuck it under her tongue. I pushed the little button and it beeped. I waited. It beeped again. I waited. It beeped twice more and I took it out and read it. 105.3 degrees F. was pretty high for a child. I petted her head and listened to her breathing until Joseph came with a cold, damp rag in his hands. His eyes were anxious as he watched me put the rag on her head.
"Brooklyn is boiling water." He said. "What do I do with it when it boils?"
"You're going to sit here and watch her while I will go and make hot tea and soup for her." I stood and planted an encouraging kiss on the top of his head before heading out, mumbling under my breath. "Burn out a fever, feed a cold."
-
"Is Emily alright?" Brooklyn asked the moment I entered the kitchen. She stood at the stove. The gas stove was so old that Angel taught all the older people to start it without electricity, by lighting a match over the burner while the knob is on 'low'. It gave them hot meals, though it was dangerous.
"Running a high fever, but I'll soon fix that." I smiled as I opened the food bin. I started chopping old carrots. They didn't have fresh produce, but when boiled for a while, the dumpster bacteria would die.
"You're amazing, you know, Angel." I whipped around, startled by the compliment. She continued. "We would be hopeless without you... I think I speak for all of us when I say, we're grateful for everything you do; Thank you." Humbled and my heart full, I grinned at her.
"That's very sweet of you. You're pretty impressive yourself, Brook." I poured the hot water into a cup. The glass had a chip in it, but it was all we had. I ripped open a discarded, air-tight packaged bag of tea and let it steep in the glass. Dumping the carrots, some celery chunks, ramen noodles, and left-over Fred Meyer chicken into the boiling water, I made chicken-noodle soup. Stirring the ingredients together and letting it cook, I asked Brook to bring the tea to Emily.
Alone, I thought about the time before I woke up under the bridge. Who was I before this? I could have been anyone. I wonder if Donnie has found anything on me, yet. The soup was simmering and I tipped the pot over, dumping the contents into a bowl. I grabbed a plastic spoon and headed to my patient's room, thinking about my amnesia.
-
"Hello? Angel, here. Anyone home?" I swaggered into the sewers, looking for my... It felt strange to say, but, boyfriend?
"Hey." Raph was lifting. From what I could see, they were 100lb weights. "Donnie's in the lab." He smirked, having read my mind.
"Thanks... You're leaning to your left a bit, just so you know." I heard him growl a little as I danced into the familiar room.
"Angel! Hey!" Donnie was in the other room on the computers. "How are you?" He stood up, arms open for a hug.
Pulling away, I responded. "I'm perfect. I can't stay long; I have a patient to tend to... Just wondering if you found anything on me yet."
"Anything on you? Oh! On your previous life... Right. Um, no, I haven't got the chance to dig in, really. I will soon, though, I promise."
Nodding, I leaned on the desk. "That's fine. Hey, if you or your family wants to come over to the hotel sometime, you are welcome to visit. I've got to go, though." Patting him on the arm. "See ya."
"Bye, Angie."
I APOLOGIZE FOR THE TITLE! If you have a better idea, let me know. LOL.
