The Meanings of Lost

Chapter 22

Diana:

I never expected Ambrosine to look so much like her father. Bruce's titbit that she was adopted had made me think that there wouldn't be much of a resemblance, but seeing him by her hospital bed I can see I assumed wrong.

Steve and I had heard a screen while we were waking to the train station and I'd jumped into action, Steve following close behind. We'd startled her assailant, so he'd done a hasty, sloppy job. I'd gotten her to the hospital and the doctors had patched her up, but she hasn't woken. They'd cleaned up her cuts and sewed the one on her neck closed and a few of the deep defensive ones on her arms.

I've been mixing an Amazonian tincture to help the healing process and I've been using my superhearing to listen to the doctors, but they aren't saying anything I don't already know. I lay it over some of her arms.

"It'll help," I tell her dad. He just nods at me, his eyes empty. I wonder if he's thinking about what happened to his wife. He doesn't seem upset that I'm here in my immortal form, so mayhap he doesn't hold the cat-saving against me as his daughter does. His daughter, I remind myself. I've gotten too used to thinking of her as mine, I forgot she belongs to another.

The police stand outside, discussing amongst each other. They've asked me to stay here until further notice, or until someone else needs help. Thankfully, I have no desire to do otherwise and am grateful for the excuse to stay.

The doctors return and tell us to leave. Soon, I find myself going, knowing that I can't be acting too suspicious. Also, I'd left Steve to face this world alone and had promised to be back soon.

~~~~~

Somehow, someone came to the conclusion that Diana Prince should be called and informed of the situation. I, of course, accepted the invitation immediately to come to the hospital. This time Steve comes with me.

"Hi, you must be Diana." Her father says with a firm handshake. "I'm Ivan, Ambrosine's father."

"Yes, nice to meet you," I reply. What else should I say? "Is she alright?" I ask.

"She's alive..."

"That's good."

"I'd, I'd like to properly thank you, Miss Prince, for taking her in and all." He stammers. "I know she can be difficult, especially for others. You made such an impression, I dare say a good one even." We sit down outside her room, Steve on one side and Ivan on the other. We talk about menial things, like the weather and the difference in technology over the past century. I notice that he has calluses on the tips of his fingers like Ambrosine.

"Do you play the violin?" I ask.

"No, Ambri's the only one who can make that thing instrument sing." He replies. Ambri, I've never heard that before. "I'm a guitarist and pianist only. Do you play anything?"

"Well..." When I was a child I played an ancient Greek war instrument that doesn't exist nowadays. I also tried the lyre. "I did attempt the lyre at my mother's request, but I was never very good. There wasn't much music where I came from, so I never really cared." Least not music as in it's meaning in this world. He gave me a quizzical look, much like the one Ambrosine had when I'd told her that.

~~~~~

Somewhere during the endless night, a nurse comes to tell us that Ambrosine is waking up. She leads the two of us into her room and sets us up on chairs at either side. She stands away so that Ambrosine is likely to see someone she knows first.

We sit down as she stirs. "Daddy?" She asks, her voice struggling. Fear overtakes her eyes as reality hits.

"Sweety you're alright, it's okay." He says, taking her hands. "I'm here." She looks around the room. Her eyes pass over me, dismissing me as a stranger and unimportant. I keep my face still and expressionless.

"Dad where's mom?" She asks timidly. "Is mom alright?"

"You don't remember?"

"Of course I remember! Photographic memory." We both chuckle. It seems she's still herself. "Where's mom? She was there." She says with a defiant face. her mother was there, I think, I was, but she doesn't know that I'm her mother. She might know that Wonder Woman saved her, but it seems she no longer hold any meaning to the face of Diana Prince.

The nurse steps in, deterring her from the subject. She talks to Ambrosine and the both of us about what is to pass in the next few weeks.

"Will I still be able to sing?" Ambrosine asks. "I sound like a broken record."

"You'll have to rest a lot, and not stress yourself." The nurse says. Ambrosine scowls and crosses her arms best she can with all the wires and IVs attached that are coming out from under the bandages. A picture of defiance. I get the feeling she will just order herself to make a full recovery and will do it because as much as she can be a pain, she follows instructions all the better.

Ivan and I are ushered out of the room under the pretence that she needs rest. We say little, though he mentions that he doesn't think Ambrosine recognized me. I shrug it off, though he bets anything she will in time. Steve and I say our goodbyes for we don't see much reason for staying. I give him my number when he asks and he promises to call, just in case something clicks and I'm needed.

"She's strong. It'll be alright." I say and he nods. He sits back down in the blue plastic chairs and Steve and I make our ways towards the elevator.

Steve:

That other guy must be in London and the fact that he went after Ambrosine is proof enough that she is Diana's child. The automatic doors close in front of us and my stomach jumps as we are propelled downwards in this apparently safe metal box. her father seems nice enough, concerned and caring. I don't understand exactly where Diana fits yet, for this seemed to be the first time they've met. If I hadn't gotten that intuition, I would have been wondering if Ambrosine was their child, not ours.

There is much I have to learn.