Page 26 of Monsters and Mocha

Fitz sighed, shoving his right hand through his hair. “I don’t know. With the war dragging on like this, the higher-ups are getting desperate for more soldiers. It wouldn’t surprise me if they send him on as soon as his medical leave is up.” He paused. “I assume he’s been given leave?”

“I filled out the paperwork myself.” It had added another grueling two hours to the already tedious task of filing.

“Even mine?”

She stilled, guilt worming its way through her stomach. “I did.”

He stopped, angling his body to face her. His jaw worked back and forth. “What did you say?”

She was silent, searching for the right words to say.

“What. Did. You. Say?”

The sour, grumpy expression on Fitz’s face was one she hadn’t seen often the last few days, and the fact that it was directed at her made bile rise in Darby’s throat.

“I…I told them that you had experienced several traumatic injuries, including complete amputation of your left limbs, as well as severe damage to your left upper quadrant. Damage to the internal organs was suspected, but not yet confirmed. Fatality was expected.”

His eyes bulged. “What?”

“I didn’t have a choice, Fitz!” She hissed, throwing up her hands. “I had to report the state of your injuries, which were confirmed by multiple witnesses, including Dr. Fransten. If I lied on those reports, I could lose my internship.”

He matched her tone, crossing his arms and taking a step closer. “Funny. You didn’t seem to care much about that a few hours later when you decided to take things into your own hands and play Deus.”

Her jaw dropped. “You were going to die! I knew I could save you.”

“For what? So that I could live the rest of my life as some strange, mechanical monster with no livelihood and no career?”

“No, I saved you so that you could be alive.” Darby stubbornly lifted her chin, determined not to let the tears gathering in her eyes to fall. “You’re more than your job, you know.”

“Oh, really? So why don’t you go back to your desk and fill out another report that states that, due to your ‘interventions,’ I am fit again for active service?”

“But—”

He scoffed, cutting her off. “But you won’t, because admitting what you did means that you’ll likely be stripped of everything that you love and that gives your life purpose.”

Darby’s lip started to tremble, and she pressed her mouth together to stop it. The truth of his words stirred the guilt in her stomach to a sour, bubbling mass. “I-I’m sorry, Fitz.”

“Darby? Is that Captain Monstrego with you?”

Darby looked past Fitz to find Merry poking his head out of one of the doors. She pushed her mouth into a fake smile as she lifted her fingers in a half-hearted wave. “Just a minute, Merry.”

“I can’t do this,” Fitz muttered, the words quiet enough that Merry wouldn’t be able to hear.

Darby’s attention flew back to him. The muscles along the side of his jaw tensed, and his expression hardened.

“But Merry wanted⁠—”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to come up with some excuse to give him.” The bitter words cut into her heart like a knife. “After all, you seem to have a knack for making decisions for other people.”

Without another word, he pushed past her and started down the hall with an angry stomp in his uneven gait. Darby opened her mouth to call after him, but the words died in her throat.

He’s right. If I were in his position, I would also be angry. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t practice medicine anymore.

“Darby?”

She looked back and forth between Merry’s wide, worried eyes and Fitz’s retreating form before sighing heavily and turning to the young man. “Sorry, Merry. Captain Monstrego isn’t going to be able to visit today.”

He moved to the side and held the door open as she stepped into his room. It was sparsely furnished, with two narrow cots and square tables beside them. A vase of bright yellow chrysanthemums sat on one of them, lending a bright spot of color to the room. A narrow window looked out over the street below, and a chair for visitors sat in the corner.