Paradigm City - Fan Fiction - Eve of the Hurricane

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Eve of the Hurricane

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next evening, Colonel Dastun and Angel were greeted by Norman and taken to the living room rather than the parlor.

"We heard that Roger was hurt," Dastun stated.

"There was an accident," Norman said, without volunteering specifics. "He has been unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours. Mistress Dorothy has been constantly by his side. The doctor said he is uninjured, but in some sort of shock."

"Has he said anything?" Angel asked.

"Nothing, I'm afraid," Norman reported. "He has been totally unresponsive - "

From the sleeping wing came the anguished cry of "ROGER!"

Angel, Dastun, and Norman turned and saw a pajama-clad Roger stumbling out of the bedroom. His hair was wild, his eyes crazed. He kept looking around the room as if looking for something that was not there. Dorothy came out behind him, anguish on her face.

"Master Roger!" Norman exclaimed. He was about to rush over and help when Dastun's hand restrained him.

"Look at his eyes," Dastun said. "He's confused. We have to calm him." Dastun approached Roger carefully. "Roger. It's me - Dan. Remember me?"

Roger looked through him, not seeing Dastun.

"Do you remember your name?" Dastun asked.

"Name?" Roger seemed confused. "Elric? No ... Roxanne? Jerry? Jerry Cornelius ... no, I am Corum, I seek lost Tanelorn ... but I was just there. With Dorothy ... Dorian? No, I'm Dorian - Dorian Hawkmoon ..."

"Roger," Dorothy said firmly. "You are Roger Smith, Negotiator."

He looked at Dorothy. "Dorian? No, Dorothy ... " He touched her cheek. "Dorothy ..."

"Yes. Dorothy." She took his hand. "Do you know where you are?"

Roger looked around blearily. "Wayne Manor?" His gaze fell on Norman and Angel. "Alfred? Selina?" He squinted at Dastun. "Commissioner Gordon?" He looked at Dorothy again. "Barbara?"

"Dorothy," she repeated. "Your wife. Carrying your baby."

Roger's face got even more blank and confused.

Dastun and Angel's expressions mirrored only the confusion.

"I'll explain later," Dorothy told them.

"Barbara, you're a teenager?!"

In exasperation, Angel stepped up and slapped Roger, yelling, "Snap out of it, you louse!" She would have hit him again, but Dorothy grabbed her wrist and squeezed, sending Angel to her knees in pain.

Roger's expression swirled from surprise to clarity. "Dorothy? Angel?" He looked around. "I'm ... home. How long have I been here?"

"That's a long story, dear," Dorothy said, smiling in relief.

"LEGGO!" Angel cried. "You're breaking my wrist!"

* * *

The non-explanations the Smiths gave Dastun and Angel seemed to satisfy them for the present. After all, many more mysterious things than someone getting delirious after an accident with some esoteric piece of pre-Event technology were accepted as normal. And Dorothy even apologized as she bound up Angel's sprained wrist, which the blonde accepted politely.

"Something is still confusing me," Angel said as Dorothy finished binding her wrist.

"Yes?"

"You said ... " Angel gazed at her. "No, it was ridiculous. Forget it."

"You wonder what I meant by carrying his baby." Dorothy packed the medical kit back up. "I am indeed pregnant with Roger's child."

Angel stared at her some more. "You're pulling my leg."

"It is truth."

"What - are you going to give birth to a toaster?"

Dorothy gazed back at Angel and managed a small smile. "That was quite funny. Although if you had said that to Roger, he would have hit you."

Angel shook her head. "Nevermind - too weird, even for me. I'm not going to believe it until I see it."

"You are not asked to believe it or not believe it," Dorothy answered. She got up and put the first-aid kit away in the kitchen cabinet. "You asked and I answered."

Angel rolled her eyes. "Androids can't get pregnant."

"I will keep that in mind."

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