Porcelain

13

Being distraught was not close to how Eleanor felt. Sitting in a chair beside a clinical bed she looked at her sleeping sister. "I bet this happened because of those blasted shoes. Little flower, you didn't have to do that favour for me!" She whispered while clutching onto her hand. The hand she held onto did not squeeze back. "I owe you so many favours when you wake up! I do not think I will break in your shoes though, especially considering you almost live in yours." Eleanor smiled and wiped her eyes. Hearing footsteps she turned around, her light smile faltered and slipped away. She was expecting their father to make an appearance.

Felix had only just left. He had held onto her so tightly when she was crying and looking at the almost lifeless form of Fleurette. But now she was on her own. Technically she wasn't because her sister was right in front of her. Yet she was, Fleurette wasn't conscious therefore she was as good as alone.

"How could you have an accident the night before opening night? Honestly, what am I going to do with you?" Eleanor sighed, "I think next time I will make sure to pry you from the stage. I never knew you loved it up there so much." She paused, "But then you did say you enjoyed the stage at night because it was silent. Were you up there thinking again? Thinking of things which you can't remember?" Eleanor looked at Fleurette, "Silly little flower."

For the obvious reasons, Eleanor was not performing alongside the other dancers in the evenings show. Being two dancers down did not seem to affect the performance at all. They may as well not have even bothered, no one would have known. The only people who obviously noted their absence was Madame Giry, the dancer group and Erik. The man in question didn't, couldn't, even bring himself to watch the rest of the performance. He just couldn't. Knowing full well that the young woman he had made a bizarre friendship with, who had practised all those nights the same routine over and over, was now laying in a hospital bed because of him just didn't make this a performance worth seeing.

Erik had managed to single Madame Giry out at one point and ask her about Fleurette. All she answered was; "They're not sure if she's going to pull through." She had paused, "Considering she was unconscious and unresponsive they're not sure." The words didn't exactly make him feel much better.

Although Erik wasn't sure how he could possibly feel better after frightening Fleurette and accidentally making her fall. It wasn't his intention, he just wanted to do just that; frighten her. Enough so she would stop talking about such painful things. Even at a time like this, hearing Christine boldly singing wasn't helping. If anything Erik dared to say it was making him feel worse. There was no way he could see the wounded woman, that would involve travelling out of the safety of the opera house. Travelling outside at day in the sunny weather with every alert inhabitant of the city, going by night to Fleurette's home was acceptable, the back streets were dark and safe. It was with the dull feeling of guilt, which he noted was a horrid thing to feel, settled back down in the dark passage ways of his home.

——

Three days, Madame Giry noted. Three days of having to put up with pointlessly written letters and sets falling apart. This was getting ridiculously dangerous. Madame Giry just pinned this down to Erik trying to relieve some of the guilt which he was currently feeling. In the three days since Fleurette's accident Eleanor had only appeared once. She had immediately questioned her on how her sister was doing.

Eleanor had shaken her head sadly. "She does not respond. She may as well already be gone. At least then she'll be happy with mother."

Giry had responded harshly and sternly. "You should not say such things! She will pull through, of that I am sure."

"You cannot be so sure of things. The human body works in a strange way. Something simple can be something bad, something bad can be something simple." Eleanor said desperately. "I am merely here for some of our mother's books. Fleurette adores them and when given the chance will not put them down." Eleanor took off walking briskly to the dancer's quarters with her trailing after her quickly. "I am hoping to cox her out of sleeping with a good book! That's one thing about my sister, she loves reading." Eleanor smiled and picked up a handful of the books and swiftly left.

It was a sad meeting, and Giry dearly hoped she would have stayed longer so Meg and the others could pass on their get well soon messages. The elder of the two sisters was absent but their father was not. When questioned about his daughter's accident, Lucien merely noted how it was an awful shame. That was it. There was no depressed words, or words of distinct fondness when speaking, much like Eleanor had. Giry had noted how the man stunk of alcohol and quickly walked away from him without saying another word.

——

Blurry images and broken sounds greeted Fleurette. With those two things came a wave of sickness, unlike the sounds and images which stayed at bay the sickness did not. Having a soothing hand on her back she heard calls for a nurse. "Let it all out, little flower." Eleanor spoke kindly and softly.

After a few minutes passed, Fleurette had been moved into another clean bed, she even had help from the nurses to change into another nightdress.

"Do you know where you are?" A doctor had asked simply.

Fleurette had looked at him like he was stupid. "I'm in a hospital."

"Correct." The doctor nodded, "Do you remember what happened?" This question interested her sister too. Eleanor had looked at her with desperate eyes to know the reason for her accident.

"I was dancing," Fleurette said. "And my ribbon came undone. I got tangled in it and fell." She said slowly, Eleanor put her hands over her mouth and sobbed quietly. The doctor seemed to buy her explanation and nodded.

"You are very lucky to be alive. You hit your head rather hard."

"How long have I been unconscious for?"

"Three days." The doctor said, "Well, three and a bit if you include the actual night of your accident."

"When am I able to leave?"

"After a few tests are done and you show you're capable of doing things yourself."

"Shouldn't she stay in?"

"We're in desperate need for beds." The doctor frowned and opened the door to leave. "As long as Fleurette can walk and get around and do the minimal tasks herself, then there really is no need for her to be in here. There are other patients much worse than herself." With that he left.

Eleanor huffed and turned to look at her. "Tests, huh? How'd you like the sound of that?"

"I don't like that sound of it. But I do like the sound of being able to go soon!"

"I know, I know." Eleanor smiled and shook her head. "How are you?"

"Confused but I'll survive."

"There's something I have to tell you."

"Yes?"

"You will have to stay at home until you're fully recovered."

"What?!" Fleurette exclaimed. She grabbed onto her head when her own exclaimed words hurt. Groaning and squinting her eyes she slowly relaxed. "I cannot stay there! Not with that man! He will not look after me...he will banish me to my room and ignore me. I bet he wished I had died!"

"Fleurette-"

"No! I bet he did not visit, not even once! You know it as well as I, he wished I had died. I am not returning home, if I am needing bed rest then I shall get it at the opera house."

"But you need proper bed rest."

"I know the beds there aren't the comfiest, but I refuse to stay in a place where the owner ignores me and gets a third party to check on me instead of himself."

"Claudia will take good care of you. I cannot be there if you are to return to the opera house! There are shows which I must perform in."

"And so you shall, just...I'll be resting in the dancer's quarters." Fleurette said suddenly exhausted, she laid back against the pillows and looked at her sister. "I will be fine to return there."

——

Reedited: 7/Jan/2022