Cold-Blooded: A DC Universe Fanfiction (#Wattys2015)

Chapter 2: Victor Fries, Unfrozen

Through the observation window, Victor Fries watched as the nurse adjusted the IV pump, shutting off the sedative infused drip line. The sedatives had kept Nora in an induced coma for the last thirteen days. There had been twelve human trials of the new treatment for Huntington's disease and ten successes before he had risked reviving his wife. However, after so many crushed hopes and false starts, he judged it more compassionate to let her transition from cryosleep to medicated slumber until they know for sure that he had finally succeeded. Better that she should never know than suffer the disappointment. He could bear it, after all. He had borne decades of it by now.

Two copies of a single defective gene had led to Nora's terrible illness, which would have proven fatal. The treatment itself came in two stages; first, a suppressant to turn off the genes which produced the defective protein that meant the decline of both body and mind, then a symbiotic culture which synthesized good proteins, and all of it would be useless if he had not properly prepared her to begin with. If ice ruptured her cells, bursting and destroying the walls, all he would get back would be...so much spoiled meat.

Yet all signs pointed to the positive-brain activity as normal for a sedated patient, healthy protein markers in her bloodstream-and finally, finally, it was time to shut off the narcotic drip and let her come to. Sleeping Beauty, come to life thanks to true love. The corners of his mouth lifted, curving into a smile. Hair the color of spun gold, eyes like a summer day, skin like...

"I can only imagine what this is like for you," a voice intruded. Victor winced, tried to hide it, and forced the smile back to his face. Bruce Wayne. He owed the man a great deal, it was true, and so he should be tolerant. It would not be for much longer, after all.

"Quite so," he replied, taking refuge in a polite phrase. "I-we-have so much to thank you for."

"Not at all," Wayne shrugged it off affably. "I saw her dance once, years ago. Giselle. She was-is-a great artist. Not to mention that I have always regretted the tangential part I had in...what happened to you, so once you gave up crime...well, that's all water under the bridge now. Say," the man's voice dropped, and he leaned closer.

"Yes," Victor prompted after a pause.

"Your assistant is one of the most exquisite creatures I've ever seen," Wayne confided, glancing at the woman who shared the observation room with them. "But-is there something wrong with her?"

That was about the level of sensitivity he expected of Wayne. All he saw was that Yukie was attractive and that there was something strange about her. Freeze glanced in her direction to see if she had overheard, and concluded she had not. Long-limbed and slender, clad in black save for an apple green scarf at her throat, his assistant was intent on her tablet phone, just as Wayne's adoptive son was on his phone. While he watched, she reached for the bottle of water on the table before her. Watching her move was like watching a film run slightly too fast, every action a trifle jerky and erratic.

"Ms. Kuwano has been in my employ for twelve years. In that time, she has proven herself invaluable," he replied. "Without her efforts, this day might not have come for another five or ten years. It is true that she has a physical handicap, but only very shallow individuals devalue her for it."

"Exactly," Wayne beamed, the implied insult going right over his head, "I mean, that face! Those legs! Kuwano-what is that? Chinese? Japanese?"

"Japanese," Victor Fries answered, curtly.

"And is she single?"

"As far as I am aware, yes." His assistant did not suffer fools gladly, and fools with 'Yellow Fever' least of all. Let him tell her how much he likes sushi and that Asian women have always fascinated him, and see how far he gets. She'll reply so gently he'll think he's being stroked with a feather, until he starts to bleed. "But you have reminded me there is a matter that I must speak to her about. If you will excuse me?"