Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

November 23, 1996

6:32 the clock read.

Time to go home, I guess.

She stood up from the green couch and started gathering her things.

Maxwell looked up from his desk and over his glasses to see his business partner wrapping up her work and getting ready to leave.

“Before you go, C.C….” She looked back at him from the file cabinet where she was putting away the files that she had been working with in their respective folders. “What do you say we have dinner tomorrow at your favourite restaurant? Just the two of us. Say… at 7?” A surprised smile grew on her face as she replied with a happy, “Maxwell! You remembered!”

“Of course I remembered, C.C.! Don’t look so surprised!” Said her boss a bit indignantly as he too stood up from his chair.

“Well, you are not exactly known for remembering other people’s birthdays, or for making a big deal out of them… apart from your children’s, that is.”

At this, Maxwell looked sheepish as he put his hands inside his pockets and replied, “Yes, well, Ms. Fine’s been insistent that birthdays are very special occasions, and I should make an effort to make them feel that way for the people I love.”

The people he loves? Maxwell loves me? Maybe this is it! Maybe that good for nothing tramp finally did something well and Maxwell accepted how perfect we are for each other! Oh, this is gonna be the best birthday ever!

“Maybe I should thank her.” She said out loud with a smug smile. “But I won’t,” she added nonchalantly, “That’s just not who I am.”

He chose to ignore her comment and instead told her, “Alright, then. I’ll send a car to your penthouse, and we can meet at the restaurant. See you tomorrow.”

With a final smile Maxwell went back to his work as Ms. Babcock exited the mansion to go home for the night.

“Would you like to have dinner in the dining room, or will you be working late, sir?” At the voice of his trusted butler and friend, the dark-haired producer looked up and realized how hungry he was. “Ah, yes, Niles. Prepare the dining room, will you?” As Niles nodded, he added, “And arrange for a car to pick up Ms. Babcock at her penthouse tomorrow at 7. We’ll be having dinner at her favourite restaurant.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure to have a cattle car at her door before she eats all the grass from Central Park.”

The next morning, C.C. woke up refreshed and with the biggest smile on her face. She had spent hours the night before fantasizing about the events of tonight’s diner with Maxwell, and she couldn’t wait for 7 p.m. to arrive. After having breakfast, most of her day was spent getting ready in every possible way. She wanted everything to be perfect, so she made appointments for a facial cleansing, manicure, and pedicure, and even waxing. It was her birthday after all.  

7 p.m. finally arrived and with it the car Niles had arranged to pick C.C. up from her building. She was just putting on her diamond earrings in front of the mirror when the phone rang. It was her doorman letting her know that her ride was there. She placed the phone back on her nightstand after ending the call and walked out of her room to grab her coat and purse before locking her door and riding the elevator down to the lobby. She couldn’t help but feel giddy as she took the few steps needed to get from the elevator inside her building to the waiting limo outside the door. She held her head high as she took confident strides and entered the fancy vehicle with as much grace and poise as C.C. Babcock possessed.

On the ride to the restaurant, she reminisced about her previous birthdays. There certainly hadn't been many happy ones. Not that they had all been awful- she did get many expensive presents when she was a kid, after all‒ but they never really felt special; she didn’t feel special. The day filled her with pride, which only served to bring immense shame when her “close friends” and family didn’t remember, and she ended up all alone once again.

But today was going to be different, she decided. It already was different. Granted, she had spent the day alone aside from the people at the spa, whom were only workers- unlucky workers who had to spend their Sunday providing services to wealthy people like herself. However, Maxwell had invited her out to a celebratory dinner. Just the two of them. And the invitation had been made since the day before, so she knew it wasn’t a last-minute pity invite. It couldn’t be. He had remembered. Just like the year he gave her Chester as present. Before nanny Fine changed everything and turned him into a distracted, good-for-nothing idiot. The limo had promptly arrived, and she was on her way to spend the best life celebration there had ever been in her honour.

He wasn’t there when she arrived at the restaurant in her gorgeous navy-blue evening gown, so she made her way to the front desk and asked for a reservation under Maxwell Sheffield’s name. She didn’t think anything of it. It was Sunday night in New York city after all. He was probably just caught up in traffic and would arrive shortly after.

She decided to order a drink for herself while she waited for her date. The music was lovely, and the city looked beautiful from the windows of the 32^nd floor that the restaurant was in. She might as well enjoy it before all of her attention was directed at the dashingly handsome producer she would be dinning with in just a moment.

An hour and a half had gone by, and her one drink turned into two, and those turned into 7 before she knew it.

He’s not coming. She heard inside her head. He stood you up once more, and you fell for it… like you always do. The voice sounded suspiciously like Niles’, which only helped to infuriate her more. But the voice was right, and she felt ashamed of herself for being naïve enough to think that this year would be different.

He couldn’t have forgotten… could he? Dinner was his idea, after all. He sent the limo to pick her up and it arrived at the exact time he said it would be there! He wouldn’t do this to her! He said he loved her… didn’t he?

He was two hours late already (or was it three?) and she refused to believe he had stood her up, and on her birthday none the less! Unless… unless the tramp had something to do with it, she thought bitterly. Oh… how she hated nanny Fine…! She had ruined Maxwell and she was ruining her chances to be happy with him. She downed her 8^th drink that night and relished on the burn that lingered on her throat as the liquid flowed down into her stomach.

She’s ruining the family by giving them false hopes. Hopes that they will get to be a happy family after all… that they have a chance to be whole again after their loss. Well, they can’t; they won’t. Neither of us will…

She was so caught up in her bitterness at having another lousy, pathetic birthday (and life, really), and having had so many drinks after not eating anything at all since breakfast, that she missed the shrill of the alarm ringing and the people around her rushing to the emergency exit and towards the stairs. It was only when a young man in a waiter uniform touched her shoulder and told her that they needed to leave NOW that she realized the noise and the emptiness of the restaurant… much like her own.

Maxwell Sheffield walked into the living room to find his butler coming in from the hallway door with a drink and cigar in hand. He then made his way into the armchair in front of his boss to be face to face with him.

“How was dinner, sir?” ask the blue-eyed brit.

“Oh, you know how it is, Niles. Silvya tried to stuff me with enough food to feed a village. How miss Fine manages to stay so thin, I’ll never know.”

Niles frowned. “Miss Fine, sir?”

“Yes. I spent the evening in Flushing with her and her family. Said she needed my help with an urgent matter that turned out to be another family squabble that sorted itself when I agreed to stay for dinner. She’s only just gone upstairs before you came in.”

Niles felt a mix of emotions fighting for attention. He was angry. He was disappointed. He was annoyed. The subject of his feelings? Maxwell and Miss Fine.

“But I thought…” the ringing of the phone interrupted his thoughts but didn’t erase the confusion from his mind. He reached out to pick up the call. Butler’s instinct, he cursed.

“Sheffield residence,” he said professionally. “One moment, please. It’s for you, sir.” He handed the phone to his employer and, ever the yenta, waited for his reaction.

“Hello? Yes, this is he calling… yes… What? Oh, my gosh! C.C.! I’m‒ I’m on my way!” He disconnected the call and rushed to the coat closet.

The other man, curious and worried by his reaction asked, “Everything alright, sir?”

“There’s been a fire… C.C.- C.C.’s in hospital.”

Chapter Text

November 24, 1996

Confusing. It was all so hectic, and she just couldn't understand why. They had to evacuate the building, sure. But why? Her head was swimming and her mind felt foggy. There was something else too; she felt… hot? And where was the waiter that had taken her out of the restaurant? Had he left her behind? Come to think about it, she hadn’t seen another person going down the stairs for the last couple of flights. Was she really moving that slow? Where was everybody?

A loud noise caught her attention, and she looked up in the general direction of the sound. Suddenly her mind caught up and she realized what they were running from‒ a fire. The building was burning and the flames presumably coming from one of the top floors were catching up with her. She had to run!

So much for a special birthday, she thought. Well, you wanted it to be different and full of excitement, said the British voice in her head. What more excitement can one have than to run for their life?

With renewed energy and sobered up by the realization of the life-threatening situation, she made her way down more flights of stairs. However, the temperature of the air around her was rising quickly- too quickly. She kept trying, but her legs wouldn’t go any faster. She was on a race to death, and she couldn’t keep up. She had ditched her high heels, but the long skirt of her dress kept getting in the way. She could hear the startling sound of roofs collapsing and pieces of the architecture falling above her head. They were getting closer and closer, and she was starting to run out of breath. The hard metal emergency stairs were getting hard to navigate. Even the railing of the stairs was hot now. Almost too hot to touch.  

Her steps were unstable, and her feet were tripping over themselves.  Her lungs hurt from the running and the heavy atmosphere. Her eyes were blurring from the smoke. She couldn’t rely on her sight anymore. This was a blind escape. Never in her life had she felt so impaired… not physically, anyway. Her heart was thumping hard against her chest. It made her anxious. It reminded her of a ticking clock that announced the impending arrival of her end.

The end? Of what life? Do I even have anything left to live for? Anyone to go home to? Anyone to care if I live?

Exhausted, essentially sightless, and distracted by her thoughts she tripped over. She screamed. A sharp pain was coming from her right leg. She dared a look at it and gasped at the blurry sight. It was visibly broken. The bones threatening to tear the skin open in the middle of her shin. The gasp sent her into a coughing fit that made the ache more intense.

She was running out of time. She couldn’t bring herself to look up to the roof, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before the spreading inferno engulfed her. Broken leg or not, she had to keep going. Pushing herself on her palms and knees, C.C. Babcock started crawling through the landing between flights of stairs.

Bang! An explosion sounded above. Her face hit the floor as the whole building shook. Now army-crawling she made her way down another flight of stairs, always keeping her head as low as possible. Sweat was dripping from her skin and her body was screaming for her to stop.

Only three more floors to go.

As she reached the landing of second floor, the building began to shake once again. Pieces began to fall around her, and she picked up the pace with urgency. “Aaaagh!” She let out an agonizing cry. A long, scorching piece of debris landed across her back and pinned her to the floor. She couldn’t get up. She couldn’t move. The pain was excruciating. The flames were too bright and too close. The heat was suffocating. She could do nothing more than to lay there and scream in agony.

She didn’t know how long she had been there for, but her grasp on reality was beginning to slip. The whole place seemed to be turning around her. Even with her eyes closed she felt like she was lying on an operating ceiling fan, and she would go flying out any minute. Her head was pounding, and her lungs felt like two balloons filled with water.

She heard noises that she couldn’t recognize. She had no idea where each sound was coming from. Maybe they were voices. Or maybe they were steps. Maybe they were sirens and people’s screams. Whatever they were, they were far and muffled.

A blurred figure appeared in front of her. It crouched next to her and carefully lifted her broken body in its arms. “Maxwell?” was the last word she uttered before unconsciousness engulfed her and she fell into de void.

The air outside was frigid, a striking contrast with the inferno raging inside. Red and blue lights from police cars could be seen on the street. People were being assessed by paramedics. The fire department worked hard to put the fire out. A fireman emerged from the burning building carrying a limp body in his arms and a stretcher was immediately brought over by a couple of paramedics when he made his way across the street.

“Patient is unconscious. Connect to a heart monitor.” instructed the paramedic.

“She’s going into cardiac arrest!” yelled the other paramedic. “Bring defibrillator.”

“Charge,” a pause. “Clear.”

Electric waves went through her body and her chest rose from the stretcher.

“Nothing. Charge… clear.”

Another wave.

“We have a pulse!”

“Checking for a gag reflex. We have a gag reflex. Airway is swelling. We are gonna have to intubate.”

“Ok. Administering sedative.”

After intubation was completed, C.C. was loaded into the ambulance.

“Prepare IV for fluid resuscitation.”

Her diamond necklace and earrings were removed to avoid further burning from residual heat, as well as to avoid adherence to the skin. The heater of the ambulance was turned on to prevent hypothermia.

“We have an open fracture on the right leg. Bleeding is minimal. Prepare bandages in saline solution. I’ll reset the bones.”

Her leg was put in a splint after having been set and bandaged.

As most of her back side was burnt, they covered her with a couple of sheets (one under and one on top of her) and a warm blanket. And with that, they reached the hospital.

Chapter Text

Niles and Maxwell arrived at New York Presbyterian hospital making their way to the front desk with urgency in their steps. It was almost midnight, and their bodies were ready for sleep, but the worry in their hearts and minds kept them wide awake and on a mission: to find C.C. Babcock and make sure she was okay.

“Excuse me, we’re looking for C.C. Babcock,” asked a breathless Maxwell to the nurse behind the desk.

“Are you family?”

“No, but I’m her business partner and emergency contact,” replied Mr. Sheffield.

“Just a moment, please.”

The few seconds it took her to type the name on the computer and read the status of the patient made their already racing hearts thump harder and their mouths go dry.

“The patient is currently in surgery,” was the nurse’s polite response. “Please take a seat. A doctor will come and talk to you once the surgery has ended.”

“But is she okay?” Of course she’s not okay! He thought. “Will she be okay? Is she in danger? What happened?” the younger of the two men was asking quickly and with much concern. His questions sounded stupid to his own ears, but he didn’t know what exactly to ask! Nobody had given their condolences, so she had to still be alive; but if she was having surgery, did it mean that she could still die at any moment? What kind of surgery was it? How much danger was she in? What kind of injuries did she have, and how severe were they? How critical was her condition? When could they see her?

“This is all I know for the moment, sir. Like I said, the doctor will give you more information about her condition once the procedure is over. In the meantime, you can grab yourselves some coffee and take a sit. We’ll call you when the time comes.”

The two men nodded with resignation and took a seat in the waiting room and waited in silence for a while. Eventually Niles got up and asked the producer if he wanted a coffee. He knew how uncomfortable hospitals made him. They made him uncomfortable too. They reminded them of what they had lost‒ whom they had lost.

“Yes, coffee would be great,” replied the brunette.

The butler nodded slightly and made his way to the coffee machine. Relieved to have something to do other than sit on the uncomfortable plastic chair and stare into de abyss while his thoughts took him back to the woman currently in surgery. It was becoming too much about her and that was something he couldn’t deal with right now. He couldn’t deal with that kiss from only a few weeks ago that ignited his whole body in flames. He couldn’t deal with the thoughts that hadn’t stopped after that, or the possessive feelings that came with it.

The distraction didn’t last long, however. Only a few minutes had passed since he first stood up from the chair before he was back with two cups in his hands. He handed one to his friend and took a sip of his own. The liquid warmed his throat and left a bitter taste behind. He concentrated on that for a few more minutes before he finished his drink.

“Family of C.C. Babcock?”

They had never been more relieved to hear that name before. They immediately stood up from their chairs and made their way to the doctor.

“How is she?” asked Max with trepidation.

“Is either of you her husband?”

“No, no. She’s not married,” clarified mister Sheffield. “I’m her business partner.”

“Well, are you her emergency contact?” The two English men looked a bit taken aback by the lack of answers and subsequent questions. “Sorry, we can only discuss this with immediate family and emergency contacts,” replied the doctor apologetically.

“Yes, I’m her emergency contact. I received the call when she was admitted.”

“Ok, then… I’m going to be honest with you, the damage is extensive. She sustained severe burns to 40 percent of her body. About 30 percent are 2^nd degree and the other 10 are 3^rd degree injuries. Most of them on her back side. The rest of her body is covered with first degree burns, but those should heal in no more than a week. We performed a procedure known as debriding to remove the dead skin tissue from the most severe areas. She has both carbon monoxide and cyanide poisoning from inhaling smoke in a closed space for a prolonged period, as well as inhalation injury. She has been given an antidote against cyanide and is receiving oxygen through a mechanical ventilator. She also sustained an open fracture on her right leg. It has been set and immobilized and will be put on a cast after a skin graft is conducted on the leg. All her burns have been cleaned and wrapped. However, there’s a high risk of infection, as with any burn victims. We found high levels of alcohol in her blood and no food in her digestive system. We believe she might have been quite drunk and that’s why she wasn’t able to escape. The leg seems to have been broken later on, as there’s little evidence in her body of her crawling down the stairs.”

Maxwell and Niles were completely speechless. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. The doctor’s words felt like strong blows to their stomachs.

“Will she… will she get better?” Asked Maxwell after a long pause.

“She has a good chance of recovery, but it’s going to be long journey. We’re talking about a minimum of one day in hospital per percentage of burns, which is about 40 days in this case. But I would say at least two months before she can be discharged, in case there are no other complications, which is rarely the case. But recovery will take much longer than that. It’s impossible to say how long. She will need several skin grafts, physical and psychological therapy, and constant cleaning and dressing of her wounds. She will need to learn how to do typical things like walking again, so even after leaving the hospital she’ll be in constant need of assistance for a while.”

“I see,” uttered a deflated Mr. Sheffield. “When can we see her?”

“You can see her now. We’ve put her on a medically induced coma to spare her body, so she won’t be awake for a few days. You’ll also need to always wear protective equipment, such as a face mask, gowns, and gloves when you are inside of her room. Two people may visit at the same time, but only one can stay the night. I would advise that you go home and get as much rest during the night as you can while she’s unconscious, but it’s up to you. Now, I’ll take you to her room if you’ll follow me.”

They were led to the door of a private room where they were cleaned and dressed in the appropriate equipment before they were allowed in. Nothing could have prepared them for the sight they were met with. She was covered in bandages from head to toe. There was a large breathing tube coming out of her mouth and into a machine that made rhythmic beeps and hissing sounds, a feeding tube that went up her nose and into her stomach, an IV line connected to her left hand. A heart monitor connected to her chest, a second IV connected to her right arm, and her right leg was splinted and elevated.

Their hands went to their masked mouths as they looked in astonishment. Maxwell closed his eyes in pain while Niles’ remained glued to the body on the bed. They stood there in silence for the longest time, both afraid that the slightest movement might cause miss Babcock more harm.

The silence was interrupted by a nurse carrying a small bag.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is the stuff the patient had on her when she was rescued.”

She handed them the small item and the producer extended a hand to take it from her.

“Thank you,” he said in a small voice.

Chapter Text

They were both exhausted by the time they got home. It was still dark outside, but the change in lightness of the sky announced the impending arrival of dawn. Niles unlocked the door for them, and they put their coats away at the entrance closet. Maxwell walked very slowly towards the big couch looking like a defeated man with no direction in life. Niles, however, walked straight and rigidly towards the untouched drink and cigar he had placed on top of the coffee table the night before. He stopped right in front of the low piece of furniture and, instead of picking up the glass, he suddenly turned around and faced a now leaning-on-the-back-of-the-big-couch Maxwell with a very tight back, hands clenched into fists, and unreadable expression on his face.

“What were you thinking?” asked the butler in a clipped tone.

“I beg your pardon?” answered Maxwell confused.

“What were you thinking when you decided to make a big deal out of miss Babcock’s birthday only to end up ditching her for the woman she considers her enemy?”

Maxwell let go of the couch and straightened his back a bit.

“I did no such thing!” his voice filled with defensiveness.

“Excuse me, sir, but did you not invite miss Babcock out to her favourite restaurant to celebrate her birthday?”

“I did.”

“And did you not forget said dinner with her because you spent all evening in Flushing with Miss Fine and her mother, having dinner no less, even though the limo had been sent to miss Babcock’s building to pick her up at the time you yourself set and take her to the restaurant you yourself chose? Did you even remember it was her birthday?” To say that the younger Brit was taken aback by the questions coming from the man who had mostly stayed silent all throughout the night was an understatement. His right eyebrow raised and his expression a mixture of baffled and defensive. “Look, I’m usually all for pranking miss Babcock, but this is different. You didn’t prank her; you stood her up! You made her think that you were trying to be better! That you cared about her!” Added the older man.

“I do care about her!”

“Yes, but not as much as you care for miss Fine, do you?” The dark-haired man had half a mind to defend himself, but even if he had something to help his case, his friend wouldn’t have given him the chance to voice it. “You know the woman’s been obsessed with you for ages! And you actually led her to believe that you could be the prince charming of her story only to stand her up for latkes with another woman’s crazy mother!” said Niles with flaring nostrils.

“Ms. Fine said it was an urgent matter! And I... believed her,” Maxwell tried to defend. But even he knew it was a weak excuse‒ meaningless against the consequences it had brought upon C.C.

“And you couldn’t’ve called? You couldn’t have cancelled or postponed the meeting? Were your hands tied up and you couldn’t grab your cellphone and dial up Ms. Babcock’s number, or the restaurant for that matter?” He walked closer with each question. His tone became harsher and his words louder. “Or was your mouth so full of Silvya’s food that you couldn’t communicate the fact that you wouldn’t make it to the restaurant that you chose, might I add, to celebrate the birthday of the woman who’s kept your company afloat for so many years?!” Maxwell had never seen him so angered, and he was starting to fear that he might punch him… or worse.

“Since when do you care so much about Ms. Babcock, anyway,” asked Maxwell defensibly. “Weren’t you the one always trying to get me to fire her; begging to be the one to deliver bad news to her; telling her she looked like a man?”

Why did he care so much? This was Babcock they were talking about! He didn’t care for her! I would care if I lost my sparring partner, the male maid told himself. No. Niles cared. He couldn’t say why, but he cared. Not only about her as a sparring partner or prank subject, but as a person. He told himself it was a matter of experience. Shared experience. The pain they shared but swallowed when their friend had died and their boss couldn’t even take care of himself, let alone the business… or his children. They had experienced together what it was like to be dying on the inside while they put on a smile and carried the weight of the family, and the company, on their shoulders. They knew what it was like to let themselves drown so that other people could breathe. They had spent years surviving, she couldn’t go before she had started to live.

“Don’t you get it?! We lost Sara so quickly! We cannot lose someone else!” He screamed in anger and Maxwell deflated. “Not even miss Babcock,” he added in a dangerously low voice.

Max could see the suffering in his eyes. He had it too, before miss Fine. The pain of losing his dear wife had changed him. It had changed the whole family‒ including C.C. But he hadn’t realized how much it had affected Niles. He seemed so put together when Max was grieving. Not that he had clear memories of much of anything outside of his pain and emptiness during that time… but Niles had been strong. He knew he had been sad. He even cried openly at her funeral, but did he spend his nights unable to sleep because of the all-consuming sorrow like he had?

He was being selfish. Heavens, he was so often selfish! He just didn’t know how not to be. And it was easier to be angry at his friend than to accept his fault and deal with the guilt. It had already started to eat at him. How could it not? His fatigue wasn’t making it any easier on him. At least Sara’s accident hadn’t been his fault. It hadn’t been anyone's fault. But this one? This one was on him.

His thoughts were interrupted by someone’s steps coming down the stairs. He looked up to see a big haired robed figure.

“What’s with all the yelling, you two? Don’t you know what sleep is?” asked Fran with an annoyed voice.

“I’m sorry that we woke you up, miss Fine. We just came back from the hospital and are in urgent need of sleep,” said her boss in a tone that confirmed his words.

“The hospital?!” she alarmed immediately. “What happened!? Are you both okay!?”

“Yes, yes. We weren’t the ones in need of care. You see, I received a call from the hospital letting me know that C.C. had been admitted.”

“Ah, did her latest plastic surgery mess her up more than it helped?” said Fran in an attempt to lighten the mood and awaken the butler who hadn’t uttered a single word since she entered the living room. Needless to say, the joke did not have the desired effect. The atmosphere of the room remained dark and serious.

“No, Miss Fine. I’m afraid that the building she was dining at caught fire and she was trapped inside.” The producer explained in a gentle voice trying not to trigger another loud response from the Jewish woman and maybe ease his own guilt in the process.

“Actually…! A careless idiot stood her up for another woman during her birthday, so she got so drunk she couldn’t escape the flames and ended up in hospital with about half of her body burned!” said Niles with a smile that didn’t match his tone. The sarcasm in the butler’s voice was so thick and the words so sharp that even the nanny winced at his comment.

Still very angry and pleased with the speechlessness of the usually loud woman, and the downcast look of pain of the English producer, he decided to take his leave.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me… I’ll be going off to bed for what few hours of sleep I can catch.”

“Don’t worry about breakfast! I’ll order food for everyone in the morning!” managed to say Fran as he walked to his room. Once the butler was out of earshot, she asked, “What’s his problem?”

“He’s just worried about Miss Babcock,” tried Maxwell.

“Niles worried about Miss Babcock?! Is the world gonna end tonight? She must be seriously hurt!”

“It is quite a… shocking view, to be honest. She looked so… fragile. So vulnerable,” he exhaled. “I never thought I would use those words to describe C.C. It made me think of Sara right before she died. Niles must’ve been thinking the same things because he said we couldn’t lose someone else… not even Ms. Babcock.”

“Oh, poor Niles, he must be having some horrible flashbacks! And Miss Babcock! She might not be the most likable person, but even she doesn’t deserve this.”

“You’re right; she doesn’t…” uttered the dark-haired man as his eyes looked to the floor once again.

He didn’t have the energy to deal with the image of her broken body that was now etched in his memory. The tubes, the bandages, the cast on her right leg and the less than optimistic prognosis. He knew the sound of her respirator and heart monitor would be haunting his dreams that night, if he was able to sleep at all, that is.

He rubbed his face with one hand and said, “I really am drained, miss Fine.”

“Of course, Mr. Sheffield. You should go get some rest now. I’ll order breakfast in the morning and send the kids to school. No, wait... it's Thanksgiving break. They don't have school tomorrow. You just sleep and don’t worry about a thing.”

“Oh, gosh! What am I going to do with the play? Thanksgiving’s this week! That’s when everyone starts going to the theater!”

“Calm down. Everything’s ready with your show. Opening night was last month, so we got that out of the way already… thank God… All the casting is done, everyone knows their lines, choreographers have been hired‒ and fired… What else is there to worry about?”

“Things could still go wrong. Choreographers could quit, people could stop going to the play, someone could get injured!”

“First of all, who’s going to quit without Ms. Babcock there to make them cry? Second, if people stop going to your play and it closes, that’s just one less thing to worry about. And third… somebody’s been injured already‒ Ms. Babcock. You should just focus on that. I might not be her biggest fan, but she’s your friend. And friends are more important than any play.”

“You’re right, Miss Fine. C.C.’s recovery is more important than work. I still have to call her family to let them know what happened, though. That’s certainly not going to be easy,” sighed the producer tiredly.

“Why don’t you just have Niles call them?” suggested the noisy woman.

“As much as I like the idea… I really think it should be me delivering the news. It’s the very least I can do.”

“Why? What does Miss Babcock’s accident have to do with you?”

There it was again‒ that deep feeling of remorse and shame. He could feel their sharp teeth munching at him. He did not want Miss Fine feeling the same way as he was, but he was also not ready to confess.

“It’s just that I’m her business partner, you know? Her family doesn’t live in the city, so I feel partially responsible for her.”

“Well, that’s really sweet of you. You really are a remarkable man, Mr. Sheffield.” If only she knew… thought Maxwell. “Now go! You need your rest.”

With that, they made their way up the stairs and into their respective rooms.

Once he was finally alone and in his room, the millionaire took the rolled content of his suit pocket out. It was the paper envelope the nurse had given him back at the hospital. He took his jacket off and threw it on the bed. After taking a calming breath, he opened the packet and extracted what had been stored inside: C.C.’s diamond necklace and matching earrings. Her delicate silver watch was there too.

She must’ve looked so nice, he thought painfully as he held her jewelry in his hand. She must have spent hours getting ready and getting every detail up to her perfect standards.

He never paid enough attention to paint a picture in his mind of what she would have looked like that night. He didn’t know what kind of dress she would have worn, what colour it could have been, or whether her hair would have been up or down.

It was killing him to find out how selfish and unaware he really was and the effect that had on the people he thought he was close with. And for the first time in years, Maxwell Sheffield wept.

Chapter Text

Being at the hospital presented an enormous challenge for Maxwell. It was arguably more difficult to visit than spending the night in the emergency room waiting for an update. There was urgency in the call, a matter of life and death. It had kept him on his toes, always expecting for someone to call his name and either tell him she was alive or dead. But this? This was… voluntary, and much more passive. He felt responsible for her, yet he had the choice to be there with her or not‒ especially while she was unconscious‒ and he felt so lost.

He had decided to call her family once at the hospital to kill some time. He tried her mother first, thinking it would be the harder of the two calls since he didn’t know her well enough, but he couldn’t reach her. He dialed Stewart Babcock’s number next and waited for him to answer.

“Hello?” he said after the third tone.

“Hello, Stewart. It’s Maxwell. Maxwell Sheffield.”

“Maxwell! What a pleasant surprise! How can I help you?” He replied with a cheerfulness that strongly contrasted with the other man’s mood.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“Is everything alright with C.C.?”

“No, I’m afraid not. She’s… in hospital,” Max replied gravely.

“Has Niles played another one of his pranks on her?” he asked amused.

“No, it wasn’t a prank.” Although the question had taken him by surprise coming from Stewart, he had to take a deep breath to keep the invasive, but deserved, feeling at bay. “The building she was dining at caught on fire, and I’m afraid she wasn’t able to escape.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment followed by a shocked exhale.

“Is she… is she okay?” asked Mr. Babcock in a small voice.

Oh, this was harder than he had thought. “She’s… alive. They put her in an induced coma to allow her body time to heal, but the damage is… extensive,” confessed Maxwell.

“She’ll pull through,” replied her father with confidence, “she always has. C.C.’s nothing if not a survivor.”

“Yeah, I‒ I guess she is,” conceded Maxwell awkwardly. “…I thought you should know. You are welcome to visit her, of course. She’s at New York Presbyterian hospital. Room 802. You can stay at the mansion, so you don’t need to book a hotel. Or I can pay for the hotel if that’s what you prefer. Wherever you are more comfortable.”

“You really don’t need to worry about that. I can pay for a hotel myself. But I’m afraid this is a very busy time in business right now. I don’t think I’ll be able to fly to New York for the time being. But please keep me updated. It doesn’t matter if it’s something big or small; I want to know every little detail about my daughter’s condition. I promise I’ll visit once she’s awake.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Thank you, Maxwell. I really appreciate you calling me. I hope everything’s okay very soon.”

“Just… before you go, could you let Noel know about C.C.? I’m afraid I don’t have his number.”

“Of course. I’ll give him a call this afternoon. Take care, Maxwell.” And with that, he disconnected the call.

The Englishman was a tad disappointed that the call had been so quick. He had expected more questions and to be asked for as many details as possible. He knows that’s what he would do if he was in Stewart’s position. He would’ve dropped everything to rush to his children’s side, even if there was no way for him to make it better. Funny how he was afraid to make the call for the exact same reasons he now felt upset about.

He kept calling B.B. every hour, but the call was never picked up. He had so much time and not the slightest clue on how to spend it. What did one do in the hospital room of their comatose business partner? She was under a chemically induced coma, so he wasn’t expecting her to wake up for a few more days. He couldn’t have a conversation with her, which would present a different challenge when the time to do so came. He didn’t dare touch her hand. Not only was he afraid to hurt her, but he was also afraid of the contact and what the gesture might wrongly look like. He was way too English for his own good.

Three whole agonizing hours had passed when the nurse that had given him C.C.’s belongings the night before went into the room to check her vitals. He greeted her politely and just sat there very awkwardly while she did her job. She smiled softly at him when she finished, “You should talk to her,” she suggested gently.

“Excuse me?”

“She is in a coma, but she can hear you, you know?” The producer looked very unsure, so the nurse gave him a sympathetic look. “Just give it a try. It’ll help you pass the time while you’re here,” she added before leaving him alone with the unconscious woman.

Back at the house, Fran was helping Niles chop vegetables at the kitchen counter. The butler had woken up just after the kids had had breakfast. He ate the food the ever-hungry Jewish woman had had delivered before driving to C.C.’s penthouse and picking up little Chester, who was now laying happily in his dog bed at the feet of his favourite person.

“What happened last night between you and Mr. Sheffield? You were being pretty loud. What was it you were fighting about?” questioned the nanny with her characteristically nasal voice as she slipped the Pomeranian a small piece of carrot.

“I should’ve known you just wanted to get information out of me when you offered to help with dinner.” Niles looked annoyed at the question but knew it would be impossible to get the other yenta out of his hair.

“You would’ve done the same thing if you were in my position,” responded Fran dismissively. “Now dish!”

Niles sighed and put the knife on the counter. “Mr. Sheffield invited Miss Babcock out to diner to celebrate her birthday. He told her on Saturday before she left that they would go together to her favourite restaurant because you told him that birthdays were important, and he should make a bigger effort to acknowledge them as such.”

“But I thought Miss Babcock was having dinner with some idiot who ditched her for another woman?”

“Miss Fine,” Niles summoned all the patience he could for his friend, “where were you yesterday around 7 p.m.?”

“Having dinner with my mother and Mister Sheffield in Flushing. I’m telling you, if he hadn’t been there, my mother would’ve already cut my head off! It’s amazing how easily my mother forgives when the man is involved.” She had the decency to look confused for a moment before turning back to her friend and asking, “what does that have to do with your fight at 4 in the morning?”

“He told miss Babcock he would send out a car to pick her up at 7.”

“Is that why we couldn’t take the limo when we went to my mother’s?”

Niles was getting exasperated. “He asked me to make all the arrangements for their evening, so the limo picked Miss Babcock in front of her building at 7, like Mr. Sheffield promised. You see what I’m getting at?”

“Are you saying that Miss Babcock is now in the hospital with second degree burns because I dragged mister Sheffield with me to settle an argument with my mother while Miss Babcock spent her birthday getting drunk and alone at an expensive restaurant that caught on fire, and she couldn’t escape?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my gooosh! If only I had known it was her birthday, I would’ve‒”

“You would’ve done the exact same thing, Miss Fine,” interjected the butler calmy, but firmly. “Because that’s who you are. And Mister Sheffield would’ve still chosen to spend the time with you… Because that’s who he is.”

“Oy, I feel so guilty! And mister Sheffield! Oh, he must be feeling so awful! Here we are, always telling the kids to be true to their words and to always be nice to others and we go and do this! Oy! Do you think we should tell them what happened?”

“I mean… they are bound to realize the dragon usually roaming their house is missing. Don’t you think?”

“Be nice to the poor woman. She’s in hospital, for heaven’s sake!”

Niles offered a small mischievous smile, and she was glad to see a bit of the light had returned to his eyes.

“Hello, C.C.” tried the producer slowly, “I’m not sure that you can hear me, but the nurse said I should talk to you… or at least try… Everything’s alright with the play. At least there hasn’t been any issues that I’ve been informed about. You would’ve probably found something to fix by now‒ not that you are picky, I just meant… I just meant that you’re good at seeing small details and making sure they’re perfect. Anyway… the play’s still coming along well.

"I haven’t done any work today… actually I haven’t done much other than… being… here. But I did call your father! He said he’ll make sure to visit once you’re awake, so that’s… something for you to look forward to…

"Not much has changed in the house, really. I mean, it’s only been two days since we last saw you… Well, Niles is mad at me, actually. He’s angry because you ended up… here when I was supposed to be with you‒ not be with you, just… you know… having dinner with you‒ celebrating,” he sighed. “He was here with me last night when I came to see you, you know? He didn’t say much but I think he was worried‒still is‒ about your condition. Oh, I never thought I’d say that.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “It seems like you’re always fighting or playing pranks on each other. I never really understood your relationship. I’m not sure if it was your definition of friendship, or… I don’t even know what to call it… but I guess you’re more important to him than I realized. I’m really not sure what I’m saying, here. Just… he’s worried about you.

"I haven’t told the kids yet. I guess I’ll… let them know today… unless Niles and miss Fine told them already. You know that couple of yentas tell the kids everything. Probably trying to make me go crazy, or something. Gosh…! I wish Sara was here. She would know exactly how to tell them; she would know exactly how to act and what to say here. She would’ve never done this to you in the first place.”

He was gathering enough courage to say aloud how sorry he was for making a nightmare out of a day that should have been special and exciting for her when a soft knock interrupted the musings of his mind. He turned his eyes to the door where a nurse covered in the same protective attire as he was entered the room with a floral arrangement in her arms.

He looked at the clock and realized he could still make it to dinner with his kids if he left now. So, he did.

Chapter Text

“Poor Miss Babcock,” said Maggie with sympathy. “She must have been so scared.”

“She must have felt so alone,” added Gracie.

“And on her birthday! I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” finished the big one.

Niles and Fran had decided to tell the kids about Miss Babcock’s incident at dinner when they had asked why their dad had been gone all day and hadn’t even made it to dinner with them. So, they told them everything. They didn’t even leave out the details about their father and their nanny being at fault for her spending the night alone. It had been the woman’s idea, and Niles was forever grateful for it.

He had been trying really hard to understand why he was so worried about the whole thing. Yes, it reminded him of Sara’s accident, but he knew that was barely the surface of it. There was something more‒ there had been for a few weeks now. He would have been truly concerned about anyone being in the same positions as Miss Babcock, but this had perturbed his whole world. Everything was… dull since that call from the hospital. Not a full day had gone by and already he could see the difference. There didn’t seem to be enough colour or light in the world anymore, and there was a certain chill in his heart that no fire seemed to alleviate.

Mr. Sheffield entered the dining room and everyone but the butler bombarded him with questions. He sat heavily in his usual chair and Niles immediately served him a plate. “Thank you,” he mumbled without looking at his friend.

“Children, please… I’ll tell you what I know, just… one question at a time.” They all felt silent at that. “Alright. Miss Babcock’s condition is very delicate. She’s stable right now, but there are still many things to worry about. About half of her body is covered in second- or third-degree burns, so she’ll need several surgeries to regrow the skin. The doctor said something about starting with her broken leg, so they can put it in a special cast, and moving on to the joints to make sure she’s able to regain as much mobility as possible. And then there’s a high risk of her catching an infection that apparently will keep being a concern until her skin has fully healed.”

“How many surgeries is she going to need?” asked Brighton with a mixture of concern and fascination.

“I don’t know, but the doctor said they’ll be many.”

“Is she going to be scarred for life?” questioned Maggie in horror.

The query felt like a knife to Maxwell’s heart. “I don’t know,” he certainly didn’t want a permanent reminder of his mistakes, and he didn’t imagine she would, either. “...but she might be,” he accepted with resignation.

“Who’s going to take care of her while she heals?” Gracie’s inquiry brought a heavy silence to the room, and everyone looked at each other in wonder. Even Niles who had been looking at his shoes since the interrogation began lifted his gaze to the oldest Sheffield. The dark-haired man took a deep breath.

“We will. At least for the time being. I spoke to her father on the phone, and he said to keep him updated, but that he can’t come to New York right now because of his business.”

The butler’s blood began to boil at that. How dare he put his business above his daughter?

“But it’s Thanksgiving week! Doesn’t he have any days off?” asked the clever girl.

Maxwell sighed and Niles’ teeth grinded against each other. “I don’t know sweetheart. His business seems to be very demanding.” An uncomfortable silence engulfed the dining room for a moment before he added, “That’s why she’ll need us...” He cleared his throat as if the gesture would remove the bitter taste in his mouth. “I dialed her mother several times, but she never answered the call. I didn’t want to just leave a message on her answering machine. It’s too delicate of a subject for that. But I might just have to if I still can’t reach her by tomorrow. Stewart said he would tell Noel this afternoon. I don’t even know if I should worry about telling her sister. I don’t really know how to contact her. Maybe her father or Noel will inform her about C.C.”

Niles’ fists were clenched into fists behind his back by the time his boss finished talking, his face a dark shade of red, and the muscles of his face tense. Was she expendable to them? Did they think she could just wait to die once their schedules were free? Or were they really so confident in her ability to recover from anything that they wouldn’t give visiting her a second thought? She was a survivor‒ of course she was! ‒because she was a fighter. That meant tears and sweat and tons, and tons of pain. Most of which could have been spared had they seen her for what she was worth and not abandoned her when she needed them. What if this was the fight that finally took the fearsome C.C. Babcock down? Would they think less of her? Would they cry? Would they feel the loss? She was their daughter and their sister, yet… she was on her own.

Oh, he was furious now! He could’ve ripped someone apart with his bare hands if they did so much as say her name. It was the sound of Fran’s voice that brought him out of his trance.

“We should all make her a nice card and put them in her room, so she can read them when she wakes up and know we’ve been thinking about her.”

“That’s a lovely idea, Miss Fine,” conceded Mr. Sheffield with a smile. “You just reminded me… the doctor said to bring photographs and other… items that can make her feel at home, I guess. He said it will make the transition back to consciousness smoother. I could swing by her penthouse tomorrow and gather a few things for her.”

Niles thought about a dozen different zingers about the kind of places she would feel at home in, but it didn’t feel right to say them out loud. Not because she was in a coma, or because of her current physical state, but because she wasn’t present‒ because she wouldn’t be able to enjoy, or despise, them with him. He half heard the nanny saying something about delivering the cards the next day, but it wasn’t enough to send him back to the conversation.

“We can be a family to her if the real one doesn’t show up.” Gracie’s comment melted everyone’s hearts and once again brought the butler back to the present. Niles had always been amazed by her ability to show empathy and understand other’s people’s emotions. He knew none of the children had a close relationship with their father’s business partner, but the youngest one had always held a certain admiration for the older woman. This, however, was more than that. She was offering to be the family of a woman who had constantly tried to get rid them so she could get into their father’s bed.

The rest of the evening was spent making “get well” cards for Miss Babcock that consisted of little messages, colorful drawings and magazine cutouts. It turned out to be a great way to entertain the kids. The nanny had, of course, made one too. Sympathy came naturally to her, even if she had never been close to the other woman. She even snapped a shot of Chester in his little sweater to have printed and framed to place next to C.C.’s bed.

It wasn’t all sympathy, of course. It was also the nagging feeling of being at fault. It was her inability to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay. Yes, she would have done this for most other people, but this eagerness was fueled by the desire to be absolved. Maybe she could get rid of just a small portion of her blameworthiness if she made this better.

When they had all finished their homemade cards, Niles took upon himself the task of putting materials and scraps away. He was just putting the last of the coloured pencils in their box when an empty piece of folded card stock was placed on the table in front of him. He picked up his gaze with a bit of confusion to find Grace’s soft smile.

“I folded and extra one so you could make her a card, too,” said the sweet girl.

The corners of Niles’ mouth raised in return. “Thank you, Miss Grace.” She never stopped to amaze him.

When everyone had retired to their room, after doors had been locked and lights had been turned off, the lonely butler sat on his bed staring blankly at the empty card. What would he write? What could he tell her? “Dear Miss Babcock,”? That would be too weird. A plain “get well soon”? Too generic. “Hope you are well”? He knew for a fact that she wasn’t remotely well. “Life seems completely devoid of colour and light without your stormy eyes, snarky comebacks, and deep laugh.”? No way.

He let out a long sigh. He didn’t know how to do this. Even unconscious, that bloody woman had a way to make his life harder. She haunted his every thought and kept him from being free. He knew he didn’t hate her. That’s what he hated the most. He wished he could have been happy about her misfortune the way he always portrayed himself to be, but hard as he tried, he couldn’t. She was the drug that kept him coming back for more. Always luring him deeper and closer, yet always reminding him of the one she truly wanted.

They had been close before, back when Mrs. Sheffield still lived. Their relationship had never been an ordinary one, yet they had been more personal than they currently were. He had almost figured out what it was that he felt back then. He had even believed they could really be friends. But then, Sara had passed.

She had been the adhesive that kept them together as one. She had treated them both as close family, not just employees. She had built a home that was big enough to swaddle them in. When she died, though, that home had shattered, and they were left out naked in the streets of darkness and disdain. Unwilling to let it all go to waste, they picked up the remainders of the cozy swaddle she had wrapped them with and used them to build a shelter for her husband and children. So tiny that it barely covered the Sheffield's, and so weak it couldn’t stand on its own. Leaving Niles and C.C. to hold it up while they got drenched by the rain. Always cold and miserable.

He wasn’t Maxwell Sheffield, and he never would be. But right there and then he was glad of it. He would rather be underestimated and rejected. Whatever the blasted feelings the tall, blonde woman ignited in him were, he could live with them. But he could never live with being the one who broke her body and heart like they were two pieces of rotten wood.

He set down the pen he had been holding in his hand and tried to sleep.

Chapter Text

True to her word, Fran arrived at the hospital the next morning with a small package that contained everyone’s card (excluding Niles’) and a small bouquet of brightly coloured flowers (much like her outfit). She remembered Mr. Sheffield’s comment about it being a shocking sight, but she wasn’t expecting to be required to wear all that protective clothing. That later became insignificant, though, when she entered the room and found the always polished and powerful-looking woman looking more like a mummy than a businessperson.

“Oh, my gosh!”

She immediately exited the room and caught the attention of the first nurse she could found.

“Nurse! Nurse! Excuse me,”

“Yes?” answered the polite nurse.

“I’m looking for C.C. Babcock, and I’m not sure I have the right room.”

“Have you asked the front desk?”

“Yes, and they sent me to room 802, but there seems to be a mummy lying on that bed and let me tell you that it looks nothing like the person I’m visiting.”

“This is the burn unit, miss. Most patients here are covered in bandages. I can go in and check that is the correct patient, but I will warn you that if the person you’re looking for is in this unit, they might not look the way you are expecting them to. Burns do that,” The answer was delivered in a kind, yet firm tone.

The heartfelt comment was enough to make the noisy woman go silent. The nurse spoke with patience and kindness, but not even a hammer to the head would’ve been a stronger blow.

She followed the nurse back into Miss Babcock’s room with her mouth still closed and a somewhat expectant expression on her face. The other woman grabbed the clipboard containing the patient’s information and read through it in silence.

“Yep, this is C.C. Babcock. She was rescued from a fire two days ago,” she said before turning her eyes upwards to find the nanny’s. “Is this the person you were looking for?”

“It is,” accepted a still baffled Fran. “Thank you.”

“No problem, miss.” And with that, she left the room.

With a hesitation that edged on fear, Miss Fine took a few steps closer to the bed. She pursed her lips as she kept looking to the bandaged body lying on top of it. After a moment of heavy silence, she averted her eyes to the right where she found a vase with freshly looking white daisies and remembered the bouquet she was carrying. She turned around, scanning the room for another vase in which to place the arrangement of fragrant blossoms before she spotted one on top of a chest of drawers on the opposite side of the chamber.

Feeling a little lost after neatly setting the flowers where she thought would look more cheerful, she decided to take a seat and do what she felt most comfortable doing‒ talk.

“Hi, Miss Babcock,” She started softly. “It’s Fran. You know… in case you couldn’t recognize my voice. You probably didn’t expect me here. I know we’ve never been close to each other but… we’re all very worried about you. The kids even made some beautiful cards for you. Here, let me read them to you,” she pulled out the cards and began to read them out loud. “This one says, ‘Miss Babcock, I hope you get well soon and go back to terrorize our house. I really like it when you make actors cry. Maybe you can teach me how to do it when you get out of the hospital.’ It’s from Brighton, of course. He even drew a picture of a man crying while you laugh.

The next one’s from Maggie, you know… the “big one.” It says, ‘Hello, Miss Babcock. I’m sorry about what happened to you, I hope your skin heals really soon so you can get better and look beautiful again.’ Oh, that Maggie… always worried about looks. She learned it from me,” commented the nanny with a proud smile.

“This is from Gracie. She wrote: ‘Ms. Babcock, I hope you can get better really soon. I’m sorry this happened to you, and I’m sorry your family can’t be here with you right now. But you don’t have to be alone, we’ll take care of you and make sure you don’t have to be alone. Love, Grace.’” The letter brought a few tears to Miss Fine’s eyes. She was moved. The little girl seemed to always have something new to teach them.

After carefully wiping her eyes without ruining her make-up, she continued, “This one’s from me. ‘Dear Miss Babcock, I’m really sorry you were alone on your birthday. I’m sorry I forgot and I’m sorry for dragging Mister Sheffield with me and my mother. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t. I know it’s my fault. I wish I could go back and change it. I hope you can forgive me one day. Get well soon so you can delight Niles with your comebacks. He already seems different without you to fight with. He misses you, and so does Mr. Sheffield. He’s feeling very guilty about this. I hope you can forgive him too. Deeply sorry, Fran.’” Her voice got thicker as she read the words out loud. She knew what she had written, but the load on her shoulders didn’t feel any less heavy than it had when she made the card. She had wished there was something she could say that would truly make it better for Miss Babcock, but she knew there wasn’t. Even the apology wouldn’t mean anything until the other woman was conscious and aware of what the words entailed.                                                                                                                                                        

She swallowed the knot that had formed in her throat and forced herself to continue. “Even Mr. Sheffield made you one. It says, ‘Dear C.C….’” she began but didn’t continue. Her eyes scanned the words inked on the thick material and decided it wasn’t her place to read them out loud. “Maybe you should read it yourself once you’re awake.” She said as she closed the card and placed it next to the vase of daisies. “It’ll be something for you to look forward to.” As she said it, she caught a glimpse of the small card on the white flowers. “Look! You father sent you flowers.” She took the small card in her hand and read through it. “He says he knows you’ll get through this and that he sends his love. Gee! Still father of the year…” She mumbled. “But see? You’re not alone. Your father may not be here, but he is thinking about you. And most of all, he knows how strong you are, so don’t you forget. We’ll be here this time. I promise.”

Mr. Sheffield decided to take advantage of Miss Fine’s visit to the hospital to take a trip to Ms. Babcock’s penthouse himself and find a few items that would make her hospital room as cozy and familiar for her as possible. He knew she had a photograph of each of her siblings in her living room but didn’t remember having seen any of her parents’. I guess I’ll have to see what I find and work with it, he thought.

He opened the door with the key she had given him so long ago. “In case of emergencies,” she had said with a suggestive smile. He made his way through the sitting room and collected the two frames he had been sure would be there. He had hoped to find something more, but only a picture of C.C. in her graduation regalia and a photo of the both of them accepting and award could be seen in close proximity. Looking for anything that looked like it could be a sentimental object, he made his way around the open area and into the kitchen. He opened drawers and cabinet doors in hopes that something important would appear. Instead, he found a small bag of dog food. Chester! He thought with eyes opened wide.

The producer rapidly exited the kitchen and ran around the penthouse looking for the Pomeranian that had served as a birthday present a couple of years prior. After looking in every room saying the dog’s name and coming up empty, he panicked. What if he was dead? What if he had been hungry and ran away through an open window, or small opening somewhere? He would have to add lost (or dead) dog to his list of sins against C.C. Babcock.

He decided to go down to the lobby and ask the doorman if he had maybe seen the dog in the last couple of days. Maybe one of the neighbors had realized he was alone and was taking care of him. That would be a good explanation for his absence and a much better alternative to the other two options he had considered before.

By the time he made it out of the elevator, he was slightly out of breath and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He kept walking briskly and approached the doorman. “Excuse me, sir. I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I’m looking for Miss Babcock’s dog. It’s a golden Pomeranian. I was wondering if maybe one of the neighbors is taking care of him.”

“I thought you were taking care of him, sir.” Confusion was etched on his face.

“Me? What would you think I was taking care of the dog?” His face now mirroring the other man’s expression.

“Well because the other man picked him up yesterday. You know, the blonde one with an English accent. He is your butler, isn’t he?”

“Niles?” He touched his right hand to his forehead as he closed his eyes. “Yes, yes. Of course,” a tired sigh escaped his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, sir,” replied the well-mannered doorman. “Is there anything else I could help you with?”

“No, you‒ you’ve been a lot of help already. I’ll just… grab a few more things and be on my way.”

He felt... ashamed. How could the dog have been in his house for a whole day without him even noticing? And if he had been unaware about the dog… how many other things had he not realized about the things happening right under own nose? The pride he had always felt about not a thing happening in his house without him knowing was dissolving and turning into mortification. He was feeling quite inadequate as both a friend and business partner.

At least Niles had remembered about the dog. The thought wouldn’t have crossed his mind had he not stoped by the penthouse. Even that hadn’t been his idea; he was only doing what the doctor had suggested.

He sighed deeply before the elevator reached C.C.’s floor. Once more he entered the apartment and this time, he stopped to assess everything around him. A feeling of despair took over him. He didn’t know what to look for; he had no idea what would be important to the blonde woman.

He would ask Niles for help, he decided. The man had a better understanding of her. He always knew what would infuriate her the most, as well as what topics would remind her the most about her misery. Surely that meant he knew her, at least better than he himself did. Funny… he had always thought Niles and C.C. were the ones who didn’t understand each other, but now he had a nagging suspicion that it was him who didn’t understand them. Not their relationship, that was for sure. But maybe not as individuals either.

Life was funny. Life was cruel.

He took out his cell phone, long-pressed number one and waited for the call to be picked up.

“Sheffield residence,”

“It’s me, Niles. I need your help.”

Chapter Text

The days C.C. Babcock spent in a coma were filled with uncertainty and a lack of peace. Everything felt out of place for the Sheffield family. They laughed and they smiled, but there was a certain hollowness to the house that just seemed inappropriate to even try and fill. The father was always in a gray mood and appeared even more distracted than he usually was. The nanny went from an overly cheerful mood to a guilt-ridden attempt at making sure everyone remembered Miss Babcock so many times a day that one might think someone was playing ping-pong with her two remaining braincells. Even the butler was acting more strangely than the kids had ever seen him. They couldn’t say whether he was worried or sad. They figured he was bored without his favourite person to argue with by his side, but he also looked tense, even angry. Whom at? They couldn’t say. Certainly not at them. He was still good to them, just… distant.

Thanksgiving dinner was almost cancelled that year.

“It feels wrong to celebrate when Ms. Babcock’s all alone in the hospital fighting for her life,” said Maggie on Tuesday during dinner.

“Yeah,” agreed Brighton. “Thanksgiving is supposed to be a time to be grateful for the good things. What good do we have going on right now?”

“The fact that we are together!” Intervened Fran.

“Miss Babcock doesn’t have anyone,” argued the little one.

“She has us. You said it yourself, sweety; we can be the family she needs,” reminded the nanny.

“She’s in hospital and in very bad shape according to dad. That’s not exactly a good thing,” continued Maggie.

“Just the fact that she’s alive is something good. A miracle even!” Defended the nanny. “We can be grateful for that. We can be grateful that there’s still hope of her waking up and getting out of the hospital!”

“But in what shape?” questioned Margaret. “Dad said her burns were so serious that she might even be scarred for life. What if the damage is so bad that she would rather have died? I mean how would you feel if your body was marked forever that way? Would you really want to go out and be stared at like a freak by everyone you encounter? ‘Cause I know I wouldn’t.”

Shutting the nanny’s mouth used to be a virtually impossible task. It was, however, becoming too common an occurrence with the current situation. Albeit unknowingly, the kids kept pressing on her and Maxwell’s guilt like it was a big red button with a “don’t press” label on it.

“Don’t be so hard, Margaret. I think Miss Fine is right‒ we should have a nice dinner together and be grateful for each other.”

“See? Even your dad agrees,” was heard from Fran.

“What about Miss Babcock?” intervened Grace. “Are we going to let her spend Thanksgiving alone?”

“She’s still in coma, sweetheart,” tried to console the father. “She won’t really feel alone.”

“I read that people in comas can still hear some things and feel the people around them. She might not be awake, but at least she’ll know we’re there. That might make her feel supported. And people who feel supported when they’re sick or injured heal faster. It’s been proven.”

“Tell you what, we’ll all go visit Miss Babcock after lunch and stay with her for as long as we can before we have to get ready for dinner. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“It’s settled, then. We are having a Thanksgiving dinner, and we are going to be grateful for all the good things that have happened this year.” Miss Fine spoke with a tone of finality and left no room for interjections.

How they had managed to not have the Fines over for dinner, Niles didn’t know, but boy was he glad! He had an agenda that Sylvia would’ve prevented him from meeting. Not to mention the comments the loud woman would’ve managed during the meal. He added grateful for having dodged her opinion on Miss Babcock’s incident to his Thanksgiving list.

After dinner had been eaten and the family got up from the table, Fran suggested they watch a movie together. They moved into the living room, leaving an anxious Niles alone to clear the table, put the leftovers away, and load the dishwasher. He did so as quickly as humanly possible before going to the lounge and asking the Sheffields if there was anything else he could serve them with. Maxwell asked for a drink, the kids asked for some milk, and Miss Fine for some popcorn (it still amazed him how much the thin woman could eat). He got the order ready and gave each of them what they had asked for.

“Sir, if there isn’t anything else, I would like to retire to my room.”

“What are you talking about? Come watch the movie with us, Niles.” Of course the comment had come from the nanny.

“Thank you, but I am quite tired today and I would like to have some time to myself,” replied Niles.

“That’s quite alright, old man,” said Mister Sheffield without any suspicion. “You may retire for the evening. I think we’re settled here,”

“Thank you, sir. Good night, everyone.”

“Good night, Niles!” said the children.

“Thank you for dinner, scarecrow! It was delicious! And have a good night’s sleep!”

Smiling, he heard the nanny’s screams as he walked past the bathroom under the stairs and into the hallway that led to his room. It took every ounce of self-control in him not to run. He had to be discreet. He didn’t want anyone getting suspicious and intervening with his plans. He quickly changed into a pair of jeans, got rid of his tie, and put on a cozy sweater on top of his shirt. Once he was ready, he made sure the coast was clear before walking in the direction of the kitchen to sneak out the back door. Once out of the house, he hailed a cab and asked the driver to take him to the hospital.

The day Maxwell Sheffield had asked Niles for help regarding Miss Babcock, everything had changed. The Butler got to be more involved without arousing suspicions. His intentions weren’t questioned. He was just following orders‒ or so he could argue. The kids and the nanny knew how dependent Mr. Sheffield was on Niles. This was normal, even expected to them.

It wasn’t expected, though, that he desired to be involved, especially not with pure intentions. No one knew that, of course, and he didn’t intend for anyone to find out. He was making an active effort to make sure his secret remained well protected for, if someone asked, he wouldn’t know how to respond.

The enigma was one of the main reasons for his current visit. He was being haunted by Miss Babcock’s absence and just couldn’t figure out why. They had always been bitter together during the holidays, and he longed for that, of course. But why did he feel this pull towards her? Why did the lack of her just turn down his whole world?

Despite all his jokes, he didn’t want her to be alone. He didn’t think she deserved to be alone or that her presence was a curse. He enjoyed her presence, that’s why he started with the zingers when she first went to work at the mansion‒ so she would pay attention to him. He took pride in being able to outwit her with his comebacks because he felt it was the only area (other than cooking and non-romantic interpersonal relationships) in which he wasn’t inferior to her.

Once at the hospital, he took the elevator to the eighth floor and walked into her room. He knew her bandages were changed every morning, but she always looked unmoved to him. He had been glad when her face and neck coverings had been removed after the third day and he had been able to look at her beautiful features. Her skin had been rosy and baby-like. The tubes and the materials holding them in place kept him from observing her whole face, but the sight was less unsettling than it had been before.

He took a seat to her right and looked at the clock. 7:43 it read. Good, he thought, still got some time before visiting hours end. Glad that she had managed to ensure the privacy of a single room for this type of situation, the butler gathered his courage and began speaking out loud.

“Hey, Babs.” He tried unsure. “Happy Thanksgiving… I guess. I don’t know how much you are aware of right now‒ Miss Grace said you might be able to feel our presence here and I just‒ I just didn’t want you to feel alone.” He was fidgeting with his hands and his tongue felt as dry as sandpaper. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t want to be lonely, either. Thanksgiving was almost cancelled this year in the Sheffield household, you see. They really thought it would be inappropriate to celebrate while you’re here. I don’t understand the difference, really. It’s not like you usually spend it with us. Not since 1990, anyway. But of course, Miss Fine convinced everyone on the importance of celebrating and being grateful for what we do have, like life itself… Anyway… the family invited me to watch a movie in the living room with them after the meal, but…” he sighed. “You and I have always been bitter together during the holidays. It felt wrong to be bitter without you. But somehow everything just feels wrong nowadays,” he said before rubbing his face with his left hand.

“I always tease you about the amount of time you spend at the Sheffield mansion, but I hadn’t realized how much of that time we spend exchanging barbs. Of course, I never thought about the difference it would make if you suddenly weren’t there, but now… I just can’t stop thinking about you. About your condition, of course. Well, not just your condition… I‒ I’m worried about‒ I don’t understand why‒” he took a deep breath. “I can’t stop thinking about that drunken kiss a few months ago. I half wish you were awake so that I could beg‒ no, demand of you that the spell you put on me be lifted, but I know I wouldn’t dare say any of this if such were the case. It’s been months already, for heaven’s sake! And it doesn’t seem to be going away! If anything, it’s getting worse. I’ve known you for more than 15 years and I’ve never felt as lost as I’ve been for the last couple of months. I thought I knew how I felt back then. I thought I knew how you felt! But I guess the accident changed everything. Whatever we had been so close to having, disappeared. Suddenly, Mr. Sheffield was a free man and you made it your job to try and win him over.

“I don’t know what you want anymore. You fight with me, and you flirt with me, you respond to my zingers. But then you go and try and get him to marry you. Even the night of the kiss you were there to seduce him. It was never about me. And yet, it was me you ended up making out with. I know it was impulsive and alcohol-fueled, but I could feel the desire with which you held me, and the passion that you poured into my lips. It felt like you wanted it as much as I did.

“And now I’m left thinking about all the things that could go wrong, like you dying here. You’d be gone and I’d be left not being anyone to you and you not being anyone to me. I’d be the one paying his condolences to your family (if they show up to the funeral, that is). Maxwell would be the one getting those, too. But who would comfort me for the loss of the person I was never anything to?

“I’m dreading the possibility of you waking up and somehow still… loving him, or being obsessed with him, or whatever it is that you feel for him after everything that he’s done and the way he’s treated you! I’m afraid all I’ll ever be to you is the old butler you have fun with while you chase insipid millionaires that see nothing more than a trophy in you.

“But even they see something in you! Maxwell doesn’t even look at you twice! He was the one to give you the dog‒ a gift to make sure you didn’t have to be alone anymore, he said. And did he even remember that he existed when you were brought here? No! I took him home, and I made sure he wasn’t alone! He doesn’t know you! He doesn’t know the real you! He doesn’t know how you take your coffee! He doesn’t know what kind of music you listen to outside of work! He doesn’t know that your favourite dish is mushroom risotto, or that you’re allergic to sage! He would never guess that you love tulips! And he’s never appreciated the curve-hugging dresses you wear to impress him, or the way your blonde hair falls above your shoulders when you wear it down, or the intoxicating way your cologne mixes with your natural scent.

“… and yet… I’m the one spending the Holidays alone because the woman who steals my breath away would rather chase the one who doesn’t care.

“I’m thankful that you’re alive, but I’m not sure that I can take any more of him treating you like a plastic vase while you worship him like a God.”

The following week, Miss Babcock’s breathing tube was removed, and the chemicals keeping her asleep where lowered little by little until she was ready to wake up.

Chapter Text

It was a regular day at the office. Maxwell was seated in his green leather chair with the round glasses resting on his nose while he read from a file of papers at his desk. In front of him, on the matching loveseat, sat a perfectly polished C.C. in her expensive Chanel pantsuit and classy stilettos. The contracts in her hands and the relaxed concentration on her face made her look powerful and unapproachable.

The dark-haired producer reclined back on his chair as he lowered the hand holding the play he had been reading and took off his glasses with the other. “What do you say we take a break for lunch, C.C.?”

“Of course, Maxwell. Let me just put these contracts away and we can go to the dining room and see what Niles has ready for us.”

She stood up from the seat after gathering all the contracts around her into a revised and unrevised pile. The revised contracts were then placed inside their respective folders and stored into the file cabinet, while the unrevised ones where neatly placed on the edge of her boss’s desk. Mr. Sheffield simply closed the script he’d been reading and stood up from his chair. His glasses appeared neatly folded on his desk and the script appeared on top of the pile of unread scripts.

As C.C. walked to the door and in front of the desk, she suddenly felt all air being squeezed out of her lungs. Her hands landed flat on the desk as she tried to support herself. Her airway seemed to instantly close, and she began gasping for air.

“C.C.!” exclaimed Maxwell as he approached her. “Are you okay?” She shook her head no. The simple movement exhausting her to the core. “What is it?” he tried. She tried to respond, but only a loud wheeze escaped her mouth. “Just ‒ stay where you are, I’m gonna go look for help!” he said with urgency before exiting the office.

He ran through the hallway and into the living room. The racing of his heart and the panic in his mind, however, were abruptly brought to a stop when he encountered the brunette woman coming down from the stairs.

“Oh, Mister Sheffield, I’m so glad I found you,” said the woman in the tiny dress. Maxwell’s back immediately straightened, and his demeanor became calm and composed. “I really need you to have lunch with me so I can tell you all about the new collection of chewing gum from Loehman’s.”

“Yes, of course, miss Fine. Anything for you.” His answer accompanied by a pleasant smile.

He offered his arm for her to grab, and they walked happily out of the door and into the streets of New York while C.C.’s arms gave out and she fell to the floor, where she continued to fight for air. Each gasp hurt more and pulled less oxygen into her system. Her chest became heavier, and heavier, her sight darker and blurrier.

Something was dripping on her face, and she couldn’t remember where she was. She knew someone had gone out to look for help just a moment ago, but she didn’t know whom it had been. Before the darkness had fully covered her eyes, she saw a figure approaching. It didn’t look harmful or threatening, in fact, it looked… kind.

“Maxwell?” She asked to the now clear and fully illuminated shape of the man sitting next to her bed. Her voice was hoarse, and her throat felt scratchier than it had ever been in her life. Just those two syllables seemed to burn her as she spoke, and she was sent into a coughing fit.

“Here,” indicated the man as he passed her a cup of water with a straw. She drank from it as he held it in front of her mouth. Water had never tasted better. Her throat remained sore, but most of the itch disappeared after the refreshing sip.

She relaxed back into the bed and finally took a note of her surroundings. There was a chair next to her bed in which her boss was sitting. She looked at him and for the first time in years, she didn’t feel any desire for the man. She remembered the scene at his home office as she choked, and a deep sense of betrayal arose in her. He had left her to die! How dare he sit in front of her like some kind of compassionate creature!

Although… she did get help. She was at the hospital after all. The figure! Someone had come for her. She remembers that now. It had been someone strong and comforting.

As she took her eyes off Maxwell, however, she noticed the white covering her arms. She glanced at the rest of her body in alarm and confusion.

“I’m so sorry, C.C.” she heard from the man next to her.

“What happened?” she asked still looking at her injured body.

“I‒”

“What did you do to me?!” Exclaimed C.C. in anger when she looked at her bandaged body.

“C.C., calm down,” tried to placate Maxwell.

“Did you leave me there to die because you couldn’t resist nanny Fine’s puppy eyes?! Is that why I’m here?!” The questions provoked a deep hurt in the British’s eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by Miss Babcock. “Get out of here, you pathetic piece of British trash! I want you out of here now!”

“C.C. I’m trying to make this better.”

“I said get out!”

She was causing such a big scene that nurses came rushing into the room. She kept yelling for Mister Sheffield to get out. “You did this to me! You left me there to die! I don’t want to see you here! I don’t ever want to see you again! I hope you and that cheap floozy never see the light of day again, you hear me?! I wish it had been you in that accident instead of Sara! I wish you were dead now!”

The heart monitor became almost as loud as she was, signaling the rise of her blood pressure. A nurse injected something into her IV and she felt herself being consumed by darkness.

She was on the floor again. There was still an elephant sitting on her chest, but the darkness seemed to be fading away. She wasn’t sure whether she was breathing or not, but she could feel a pair of gentle yet steady arms lifting her up from the hard ground.

The room was cold, and every bit of her body ached, yet there was a soothing comfort in the embrace of the man that held her.

When her eyes slowly opened again, she was surprised to find Niles sitting next to her bed.

“Niles? What happened?” asked C.C. groggily. “I must be dying If you’re the one sitting here with me.”

“Actually Mr. Sheffield was here… but you yelled at him. And being the frightened puppy that he is, he went home and sent me instead,” replied the butler. “Coward,” he muttered with indignation.

She remembered waking up before and finding the younger man next to her, except this time, instead of anger she felt a thick gray cloud surrounding her.

“What happened to me?” The question was barely more than a whisper. She was afraid of the answer, but she needed to know.

“You don’t remember anything?”

She thought for a moment. “I remember Maxwell asked me out to dinner.” She paused thinking hard. “It was my birthday,” she added. “We were meeting at my favourite restaurant… but I don’t remember Maxwell ever getting there,” she confessed with confusion. “Then I remember running down the emergency stairs on a long evening dress and bare feet. I think I tripped and fell…”

Oh.

Oh.

“He stood me up, didn’t he? He left me alone on my birthday because nanny Fine looked at him with her dopey eyes and dragged him out to some pathetic emergency she could’ve fixed by herself… Didn’t she?” Her tone was low and there was bitterness in her words. Her gaze fixed on the wall opposite her.

Niles remained silent.

“Is that why I yelled at him?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Her voiced lacked confidence and tears filled her eyes.

“He’s been here every day, you know?” He spoke softly and full of sympathy. His intent never being to justify their unreliable boss, but wanting to bring attention to the effort he was putting in.

Not able to deal with that particular piece of information, she chose to ignore it and instead voiced the sentence that had been running laps around her mind since that day at the restaurant. “I can't believe I fell for him." Her teeth were grinding against each other.

"Well, you've never been very bright" He noticed that not only had she not defended herself, but she seemed to have believed it and become smaller. "I called him a selfish idiot, if it helps" A small smile appeared on her face.

"I called him British trash" she replied amused.

"Good one!"

"Thanks" her smile a tiny bit brighter.

"I also said I wished he never saw the light of day again."

"What, and no threats? The fire must have really messed you up." The tears that had threatened to fall before came back full force.

"It did, didn't it?" No joke was left in her voice. This was pure sorrow.

"Oh, but not as much as it did him," interjected Niles. "He feels so guilty you could get him to give you his own bedroom as an office for yourself if you asked. Maybe even make you equal partner." Her eyes widened at that.

"I–" the desire was replaced with more sorrow. "I don't know if I– No!" The fire was back in her tone. She almost sounded like her old self. "I don't want to work with him anymore! I won't let him step over me ever again! I don't–" it was time for the tears again. "I don't want to lose my job!" She sobbed. "I love what I do, and I would be lost without it!" The rapid change of emotions scared Niles, but he had been warned about them. They were a common effect of an induced coma. Plus, mood swings had been a part of her personality for as long as he had known her, so he acted as if she hadn't just jumped from tears to anger and back like she was on a trampoline park and told her with nonchalance, "Believe me, he would be the one who'd be lost. The man couldn't keep this company afloat without us to do the work for him."

"You think so?" She asked in a small voice.

"Pah-lese! He wouldn't be able to dress in the morning if he didn't have a butler! The other day, he woke me up to ask how to make microwave popcorn... after reading the box!"

“Oh, he’s such an idiot!”

“Mhm. That’s why Andrew Lloyd Webber always beats him. And he thinks everything is always about him! Remember the time nanny Fine wanted to have a baby and he was convinced she had chosen him to be the donor?”

“Ugh! That was so pathetic!” She exclaimed. “I used to think he was the perfect man. Whatever happened to him?”

“The perfect man? He’s a useless spoiled brat! The only thing he is good at is hiring others to do things for him!”

“Yeah, he got that right. Except for that cheap Jewish woman he pays to raise his kids.”

“You have to admit even she is better at it than he is.” He was met with yet more silence as pensiveness took over the blonde producer.

“Has he really been here every day?” she questioned quietly.

“Yes.”

“How long has it been?”

“About two weeks.” She took a moment to take it in.

“Did he even remember it was my birthday?”

It was Niles’ turn to remain silent at the whispered question. She wanted to believe maybe he hadn’t heard her, but she knew better. His eyes became dark, and his breathing quickened. She had her answer.

Voice thick and shoulders slumped forward she said, “I’ll never be what he wants, will I?” Niles’ heart clenched inside his chest. “I’ll never be enough for him… just like I’ve never been enough to my own parents.” At that, her head shot upwards as her eyes searched the butler’s. “Tell me, how bad is it?” The blonde British frowned in confusion. “What’s the damage from the fire? Tell me!”

“About 45 percent of your body was burned. Mostly your backside,” his voice was soft and careful.

“How bad?” She demanded with determination.

“Second- and third-degree. Depth varies.”

“What else?”

“You broke your right leg.”

“Stop giving me short answers!” she screamed in rage. “Tell me what happened. I wanna know everything.”

He let out a long sigh. “Okay. It seems that you fell from a flight of stairs and broke your leg. They say both bones were fractured and even ripped a bit of the skin open. The doctors think you crawled for a short time before a burning piece of something fell on your back and you weren’t able to move anymore. It caused third-degree burns to your left shoulder, right elbow, and part of your back. Thankfully there’s minimal nerve damage, so you’ll regain most of your sensitivity, but it also means you can still be in pain from it. Your dress caught on fire from the burning… whatever it was, that’s where the second-degree burns come from. You were trapped for a while, so you had carbon monoxide and cyanide poisoning as well as inhalation injury. You were intubated for that. They only just put you out of the respirator two days ago. Also, your neck and face were lightly burned from the high heat. That’s healed now, but your eyebrows will take maybe a couple of months to grow back completely.”

She was trying to control her breathing as she took it all in. Niles waited in patient silent, but in reality, he was just trying to come to terms with it himself. He had all her injuries engraved in his mind. Even if the scars faded, he would always remember.

“Even my eyebrows are gone?” She asked in disbelief.

“Well, not completely. It’s mostly your left eyebrow and only a small part of the other.”

“Great! Now I’m also ugly!”

“At the risk of throwing all my hard work from the past decade out the window… you’re not ugly, Miss Babcock… you never have been.”

“It certainly hasn’t stopped Maxwell from ignoring me,” she challenged in self-pity.

Niles had it at that. “He ignores you because he’s the biggest moron! It has nothing to do with your beauty, he just ignores everyone who doesn’t go with his agenda! It’s just him, him, him!”

“You know it wasn’t always like that… I won’t argue with him being a moron, though.”

“Everything was different with Sara,” he said looking very far away.

“Like having a maid who actually cleaned the house?”

“Why, it’s not like he gave me a raise when I got more duties! And you weren’t trying to snatch him back then,” he shot back.

“Who said I wasn’t?”

“You might’ve wanted what they had, but you would never do that to her. She was the only person you were loyal to… unfortunately for the rest of the population.”

“Unfortunate is that I do all the hard work and he gets all the recognition. 15 years I’ve been the brain of his stupid company and still have no office of my own! Let alone be a name partner!”

“Nobody ever gets recognition for doing Maxwell Sheffield’s hard work! Even miss Fine would agree with you on that. How many times has she convinced the kids to do something they don’t wanna do and mister Sheffield just takes the credit as if he had anything to do with it?! Or with raising them for that matter! He didn’t get up at night every time they cried… I did! He keeps saying that having kids is a difficult task like he has been the one to do all the hard work! We are the ones who took care of his family when Sara died, and he was too hurt and drunk to know how many kids he even had! You were the one who took on all the workload so the business wouldn’t fall as far down as he did! We were the ones who swallowed the tears after the funeral so our eyes would be clear enough to see his kids were safe and taken care of! We didn’t get to mourn; we didn’t get to shut down and wallow for months. No, we had to put our feelings on standby for so long that it wouldn’t make sense to revisit them once they were happy again, but he can’t even do something as simple as remember our birthdays and do a special gesture!”

The silence that followed the butler’s rant was heavy with anger, resentment, and hurt. They might have been too caught up being the Sheffield’s pillars before, but three years had gone by since the nanny had brought light and happiness back into their lives and the two blonde adults’ emotions had demanded their attention once more. It wasn’t like taking up from where they left, it was like coming back to their abandoned house after being shipwrecked in a deserted island for years. Their bodies were exhausted from supporting such a load. They were cold from being out in the rain. Life had gone on, but they hadn’t. They were lost and lonely. Their hearts were broken, but their tears had long dried. Who were they and what did they have left?

By the time Niles’ heart slowed back down and the crimson of his face had gone back to normal, he turned his gaze up from the floor where it had stayed glued after his outburst. His eyes found silent tears running down C.C.’s eyes and her body shaking. She looked even more pale than she had before. Her sight seemed focus on something a great distance away.

“Miss Babcock, are you alright?”

“I’m afraid to be alone,” she whispered distantly.

He got up from his chair and closer to her. “I’m right here.”

“I’m cold”

“I’ll call the nurses. Maybe they can get you another blanket.” He looked for the ‘call’ button and pressed on it. Her body continued to tremble, and a sense of impotence took over him. He had no idea what else to do. Why couldn’t he just make it be alright?

“How can I help you, sir?” Asked the nurse who had just entered the room.

“She’s shaking and she said she is cold.” The British man’s voice showed more worry than he would’ve liked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover her with a blanket.” She walked to a door and opened it to reveal several blankets and as well as clean bed sheets. Niles had followed her and stood next to her as she grabbed the folded fabric.

“She was fine just a few moments ago. We were having a conversation and she was jumping between emotions, but the doctor said it was normal after waking up from a medical coma, but then she turned pale and started shaking and looking so far away, and she said she was afraid to be alone and she said she was cold, and‒”

“It’s perfectly normal, like the doctor said. Most people are confused when they wake up from any type of coma. She was given sedatives to keep her asleep and immobilized for several days, and each body reacts differently. There might even be parts of the conversation you were having that she won’t remember tomorrow. It is very possible that she wasn’t aware of the cold until now. Most burn patients with large burn body index struggle with lower body temperature. Her body is exhausted from working hard to repair itself; don’t expect her to be in all her senses just yet. So, like I said, it’s completely normal.”

 The man let out a relieved sigh and nodded as the nurse covered a mostly asleep C.C.

“I miss her,” was barely heard from the burnt woman. Her eyes remained closed, but she spoke again in a barely audible voice, “I miss my best friend.”

Niles finally decided to take her hand in his and confessed softly, “I miss her, too.”

She exhaled a long breath as if a load had been taken off her shoulders with the confession, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

The following day was so beautiful. Not only was the sun bright and the sky blue; everything looked colorful and full of light. Even waking up at the crack of dawn and getting out of bed felt like a joyous task for the butler. That day he had something good to be awake for‒ two wonderful icy blue eyes and the most perfect face he had ever seen. For 12 days he had longed to see those stormy eyes. For 12 excruciatingly dark nights he had chased them in his dreams. Yesterday he had been gifted the opportunity to contemplate them once more. Today, he planned on swimming in their depth.

He had always enjoyed cooking, but the scent of every ingredient seemed to radiate a special sparkle that particular morning. He didn’t think he had ever made a more delicious breakfast in his life.

The Sheffield's, along with Miss Fine were also in a good mood. Even Mister Sheffield appeared more enthusiastic than he had in… probably since his last successful play. The news of Miss Babcock waking up the day before had brought much more relief than any of them had expected. Even after being yelled at and thrown out of her room, he felt reassured. The worst had finally passed, they had thought. She had survived; they could finally move forward. They knew recovery would be lengthy, but they would rather take that than no hope for one at all.

The children left for school after enjoying breakfast (any and all of them would have agreed to it being Niles best, if asked), Miss Fine had obviously followed her boss into his office, and Niles had applied himself to clearing the dining room. He served a plate for himself and happily devoured his food. He didn’t want to linger there for long. He had a much more important thing to attend to that he just didn’t want to delay.

He arrived at the hospital with a fresh bouquet of flowers just after he knew the woman’s bandages would have been changed. He had picked yellow tulips, of course. He knew they were her favourites. It had always amused him how the flowers she most liked represented hopeless love and jealousy. It had been like she had always known deep inside her how absurd her obsession for the dark-haired, English millionaire was.

He stood outside of her door and gently put down the flowers to dress himself in the designated attire like he had gotten used to. This time, though, instead of just walking into the room, he knocked twice and waited for an answer. His heart leaping inside his chest as a quiet and somewhat raspy “Come in” was heard from the other side of the opening barrier.

A mob of messy blonde hair greeted him along with a pair of sad-looking, icy blue orbs.

“Good morning, sunshine. Or should I say, ‘Mrs. Dracula’?”

“Not even two weeks was I unconscious and your zingers are already worse than ever.” An eye roll and a friendly, yet arrogant smile accompanied the words of the woman currently in bed.

“Well, I didn’t want to be too hard on you. I don’t know how badly the medications have messed your head up, but if your hair is any indication of the damage inside, I would say a mental institution is only one step away.”

“Why? Are you expecting me to visit you?” She retorted skillfully.

“As long as you don’t visit at night. The sight would be enough to give me a heart attack.”

“Pff! If you haven’t had one every time you look in the mirror‒” The bundle of yellow petals in Niles’ hand caught her attention, then. “Are those yellow tulips?”

“Oh? ah… yes,” he said looking at the flowers. “Thought you might like a snack.”

Ignoring him, she asked, “How did you know they’re my favourites?”

“Well, the guy who sold them to me said‒”

“Oh, save the cow comment, rubber maid. That joke is almost as old as you are.”

“Why, Miss Babcock, you offend me,” mocked Niles. “I was merely trying to talk about what the tulips represent.”

“What? Jealousy and unrequited love?” was her annoyed answer.

“I meant the more modern meaning.”

She feigned indifference as she asked, “And what’s that?”

“New beginnings.”

They remained silent for a moment. Neither of them understanding the full depth of that seemingly short sentence.

“Thanks,” she mumbled with a downcast glance.

“You’re welcome.”

A moment of silence passed. “Well, if you’re not going to take a bite right now, I’ll put these in a vase for later.” A grin adorned her face while he did.

Niles then noticed the cards the Sheffield's and Miss Fine had made for her. “Your father’s been sending you flowers, you know?”

“He has?” She hadn’t even thought about him. She was so used to his absence that it surprised her that he had taken time out of his work to ask his secretary to order flowers for her.

“This one right here’s the third one he’s sent already.” He pointed to a bouquet of daisies. “Miss Fine thought it right to save the small cards for you to read when you woke up. She also had the kids make these get-well cards for you.” He gathered the folded pieces of paper in his hands and approached her bed. “Here.”

“Read them to me, Benson.”

“Has the Broadway producer forgotten how to read?”

“No,” she replied indignantly. “I just don’t have my glasses with me, and apparently someone removed my contacts while I was unconscious. So can it before I throw you out of here.”

“Ah, but who would you have to annoy you and help you pass time?” asked the butler with fake innocence.

“Just read the damn cards, butler boy.” Her voice was mixture of tired, impatient, and demanding.

Tsk, tsk, tsk. “So grumpy.”

She pinned him with a glare, and he put his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll read.” He took a seat next to her bed and began reading the cards that had come with her father’s flowers. He had only gotten to read what the two older kids had written on their cards when a bellow erupted from her throat. Aghh! Niles raised his gaze to her only to find her clutching her head with both of her hands. Her neck bent sightly backwards.

“What is it?” his voice full of concern.

“It hurts,” she managed to say.

“I’ll call the nurse.”

Quickly, he got up from his uncomfortable seat and pressed the ‘call’ button. No more than a minute later, a nurse appeared. She was just about to ask what she could help them with when she took a look at C.C. She immediately walked to the blonde woman’s side and checked the monitors’ readings.

“What happened?” She asked.

“I was reading to her when she yelled and put her hands on her head. I asked what was wrong and she said it hurt. That’s why I pressed the button.” The fear and anguish were evident in the man’s eyes.

She turned back to the woman on the bed. “What hurts?”

“My head,” answered Miss Babcock through gritted teeth.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?”

The blonde patient tried to shake her head but found her neck very stiff and sore. “My neck,” she added.

“Anywhere else?”

A constricted “no” was heard. The nurse proceeded to place a thermometer inside C.C.’s mouth and asked her to hold it there for a minute. After the necessary time went by, she wrote down the temperature.

“Okay. I’ll get the doctor.” And with that, she left the room.

Niles wanted to comfort the hurting producer, but he hadn’t the slightest clue how. He hadn’t even dared touch her hand yet, how was he supposed to make her pain go away?

Only a few minutes had gone by when the doctor walked into the room followed by the nurse from earlier.

“Good afternoon, Miss… Babcock,” completed the professional after looking at her chart. “What do we have here?”

“Severe headache, stiff neck, and low blood pressure,” provided the nurse.

“Mhh… any other symptoms?”

“None, so far.”

“Can you touch your neck with your chin for me?” The physician directed the question to C.C. who tried to do as asked but failed painfully.

The doctor looked back at the nurse. “How many days since she was injured?”

“12.”

“Get a blood sample and administer x amount of cefotaxime and increase her painkillers by y amount.”

Niles kept looking between the doctor and nurse as they did their job. He kept out of the way, but it was evident from his body language that he was worried and had no idea what was going on with the woman currently in bed. From what he could see, she was very uncomfortable and in acute pain, but it didn’t seem to be coming from any of her burns. Could it be that she had caught an infection like the doctors had feared she might? He could see in the doctor’s face that he already had suspicions, but he didn’t say them aloud. Hopefully the blood test results would tell them exactly what the source of her distress was so they could fix it.

Not even an hour later, there was a knock on the door. He thought maybe it was her time to have lunch since it was almost noon. But instead, the doctor from earlier and a nurse he didn’t remember seeing entered the room pushing an equipment cart and asked him to wait outside while they performed the procedure.

Relieved that he could take a break from the uncomfortable face mask, he took the opportunity to call Mister Sheffield and let him know what had happened with Miss Babcock. He was still technically her emergency contact, after all. Also, he was the one keeping her father updated on her condition.

By the time Niles was let back into the room, C.C. looked absolutely exhausted. The painkillers seemed to be doing their work since she was no longer clutching her head or grinding her teeth, but now she looked dozy and somewhat spaced-out. Whether the last part was an effect of the medicine or the pain, he didn’t know.

“It looks like this vampire has already stayed up too long after her bedtime, so I’m gonna go home for a few hours and be back after dinner so you can rest.”

The only response he got was a quiet “mhm” from her. Not that he was expecting more, considering her current state. He still tried to look nonchalant in case she was more aware than she looked.

She couldn’t keep her eyes open. The simple thought of opening them hurt. Even the medicines weren’t enough to keep her pain at bay. Not only did it feel like somebody was pumping air into her skull to see how much it could take before it exploded, but her whole backside was unbearable to lay on. She tried to roll onto her side, but her head would start spinning during every attempt. She gave up on changing positions once she had consumed what little strength she had left. The chemicals running though her veins took over once again. A different kind of darkness engulfed her and she dreamed of fire and heat.

By 6 p.m. C.C.’s body temperature had already reached 103 degrees (39.4 C°) and instead of going down, it kept slowly but steadily increasing. While the blood culture test results would take at least one more day to be ready, the spinal tap confirmed what the doctor had suspected at noon.

Chapter Text

If the day after C.C. Babcock had woken up had been hard, the next day was miserable. Niles had kept his word and come back after dinner, except the meal hadn’t been as peaceful (or long) as they had anticipated. Only after the family had begun eating the delectable food the butler had prepared, the phone rang. It was the hospital. The results from Miss Babcock’s spinal tap had come back from the lab and they confirmed what the doctor had expected from her symptoms‒ she had meningitis. Her infection was caused by bacteria, which meant it could become life-threatening. The blood culture would tell what specific bacteria they were dealing with. That way, they could adjust the treatment according to her needs, but it would take another day or two to get the results.

It hadn’t sounded too terrible when said in such a matter of fact and direct way. Maybe it was the absence of time to fully process the meaning of those words. Maybe it was the lack of emotion in the voice delivering the news. Whatever the reason, the full weight of the news didn’t come crushing down on Maxwell and Niles until they got to the medical institution after practically shoving their food inside their mouths. The same phone call had informed them about the high fever she was running and how she would need a lot of support in order to get through the next couple of weeks. If worse came to worse, at least she would die knowing somebody had been there for her.

Both of them walked hurriedly to the door of her room, where they were asked to wait for the doctor. When he met them there after only a few minutes’ wait, the relief they had felt the day before (and that very morning) was put to question.

After the shortest of pleasantries, the doctor began, “She started showing symptoms around noon, so we got blood samples and performed a procedure known as a lumbar puncture or spinal tap. Basically, we insert a needle on her back to collect some spinal fluid. We send that to the lab and look for signs of infection. The blood is used to grow a culture and detect the types of bacteria that might be present in the body. Since infection is always a risk for burn victims, and the symptoms suggested we could be dealing with meningitis, we gave her antibiotics. We also had a CT scan done on her to look for any anomalies in her brain. The results showed inflamed meninges, which is expected in this situation. Logically, she’s in a lot of pain, so we increased her pain medication.”

“But… how did this happen? She was awake… she was doing better already…” queried Maxwell with a hint of desperation.

“Like I said, infections are extremely common in burn patients. Especially those with large body percentage index, since the exposed area is bigger. They can occur at any point before the skin heals.”

“But how did she get infected? We’ve been wearing all the protective attire you told us to, and have followed every guideline,” commented the butler quizzically.

“We’ll know more once we get the blood culture results, but she could’ve gotten the bacteria from pretty much anywhere; from the building that burned down, the air outside, the hospital, and even from bacteria that live in her own skin.”

“Is… is it contagious?” asked Niles with hesitation. “Can we keep visiting her?”

“You can keep seeing her, but it is contagious, so anyone that has been in prolonged contact with Miss Babcock for the past two weeks is at risk and will have to take a short course of antibiotics as well. Each person will receive a quick evaluation in order to identify any possible contraindications and will be written a prescription accordingly.”

“When can we have that done?” the butler inquired immediately.

“If it’s for you, I can do it right now.”

“It would be the two of us and Miss Fine,” added Mr. Sheffield.

“Then I’m gonna need her to come here as soon as possible. The earlier we start the treatment the less risk there is of you getting sick. Now, who’s gonna be first?”

“I’ll go,” said the butler.

“Ok, then.” Said the other Englishman. “I can visit C.C. while you’re at it.” He hesitated for a moment. “She’s asleep, right?” he asked the doctor.

“Yes. And even if she isn’t, she’ll be very out of it, in case you’re worried that she’ll yell at you again.” Replied the doctor with a hint of a smile.

Maxwell looked sheepishly at his shoes. “Thank you.” And with that, he made his way to her room.

Mr. Sheffield’s conscience had granted him a rest at knowing she was alive. I didn’t kill her, he had told himself with great relief. He had felt absolved from taking her life. Granted, her outburst had reminded him that he was still at blame for her current condition, but it didn’t feel as serious. He thought maybe he could let her be angry, step aside, and watch her recover and move on from afar. Oh, how wrong he had been… borderline pathetic, even. What happened to her hadn’t been a little accident (or even a traumatic one) that one could just forget and move on from. No, the fire would‒ had‒ changed her life forever. He had to accept that she would be scarred for life… even if no marks were left on her skin. 

The fear of receiving her wrath had dissipated, and the fright that he could make things so much worse replaced it. He had only entered her room cautiously and stared agape at her sweat-drenched form, distressed, sickly-looking face, and painfully arched neck under the dimmed lights of her hospital room before he could no longer take it. Maxwell Sheffield did what he did best‒ he fled.

The blonde man entered the room and sat on the chair he had occupied that very morning. His eyes settled on her face. Hers were closed. She was sleeping, and yet she didn’t look like she was getting any rest. Her brow was furrowed, and her jaw clenched. Not even his rudest comments had made her look so rigid, and it frightened him. Her previously pale face was flushed and dripping, yet she was shivering.

Mr. Sheffield had left the hospital the moment his evaluation had ended with the argument that he would need to stay with the children so that Miss Fine could be checked and given a prescription as well, but Niles knew it was nothing more than a convenient excuse to be as far away from Miss Babcock as possible. He had seen him already pacing impatiently when he got back after his check-up, even though it had been quick. He had also recognized the look of anxiety in the other man’s face and knew he must’ve left the hospital room not even five minutes after going in. Guilt must have been gnawing at him. What a coward, he had thought.

Now that the butler had seen her, he could understand why it would be triggering for him. He had loved Mrs. Sheffield with all his might and had lost her, but not before seeing her in agonizing pain. Obviously, his relationship with Miss Babcock was very different (even if she tried to change that), but it didn’t make it any less complicated for him to deal with. For starters, he had never been good at dealing with emotions or other people’s pain. And then, his and C.C.’s relationship had never had clear boundaries. That had, of course, given space for the blonde woman’s advances on the English producer after the passing of his wife. But she had still been Sara’s best friend. Niles could guess that maybe in that moment, seeing her so distressed, laying on a hospital bed, he had not seen his business partner, but his late wife’s best friend suffering a destiny similar to hers. And this time, it could have been prevented. He could’ve prevented it.

He was still a coward and an idiot, but if Niles looked at him from the eyes of an old friend instead of those of an employee, he felt a little bit sorry for him.

He had volunteered to stay the night. Not because it would take him out of doing his work in the house, no. The next day was Sunday anyway‒ his day off. He didn’t care how obvious it would be that he actually cared for Miss Babcock when he volunteered; he was really worried about her and wanted to be there with her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he went back to the mansion, and hoped, deep in his heart, that him being there would make the woman feel better, and even heal faster.

A nurse came into the dark room to take the blonde woman’s temperature every hour. It wasn’t rising anymore, but it was also not going down. She kept thrashing in her sleep and even moaning in pain so much so that Niles finally gave in and slowly wrapped his strong, calloused hand around her delicate and soft one and held it the whole night. Every time she made any noise of complain or became restless, he would give her hand a gentle squeeze to try and give her some sort of comfort. He was pleased to see that she would relax, if only the tiniest bit, when he did.

Her eyes would open about halfway through every now and then and be glassy and unfocused. Sometimes they remained open for only a couple of seconds, and other times they’d be open for a few minutes before closing again, but every single time she seemed very far away.

He hadn’t gotten more than 20 minutes of sleep at a time, but he wouldn’t complain. No, whatever discomfort he felt would be nothing compared to hers. He had already been selfish for too long. It was time to put her well-being first. He sighed. It was finally time to take care of her instead of being the cause of her injuries. He would be next to her even if she wouldn’t remember his presence with her.

The next morning, a nurse entered the room carrying a flower bouquet. Niles gave her a small smile and nodded his head in thanks. When she had left, he approached the flowers to read the note. He thought maybe they were from Stewart again, since it had been a few days since he sent the last ones, and they were never the same kind or colour as the previous. Shows how much he knows her, he would think. Nevertheless, he was surprised to find they were not from her father, but from her mother instead. They had yet to hear from B.B.; they had thought that maybe she was in one of her exotic trips and couldn’t be reached by phone, but it was clear now that wasn’t the case. She knew, she just didn’t care.

The note was a simple “Get well, Darling.” Signed B.B. Babcock. This was her doing the minimum effort to still look good in front of her society. Another confirmation of the importance C.C. held at the eyes of her mother. The small note got crumpled in his fist. He hadn’t thought about his actions, he had just given in to his exasperation at her family. He could see now why she acted so cold and selfish.

A set of small whimpers interrupted his thoughts. The squashed paper was forgotten next to the vase. Meanwhile, Niles made his way to Miss Babcock’s side and grabbed her limp hand into his gloved one. He noticed that she wasn’t just complaining in her sleep; she was also lightly wheezing. He didn’t know if it was something serious, but that it was better to be on the safer side and call someone who did, so he reached to her right and pressed the “call” button.

The nurse found him pressing her left hand to the right side of his face, his eyes just a tad wider than usual and his breathing quickened. “You called, sir?”

His eyes darted to the young nurse. “Yes, she started complaining in her sleep, but then I got closer, and I think she’s having trouble breathing.”

“Ok, let me take a look.” She answered and immediately set to work. “I’m going to put an oxygen mask on her to help her breath.” She said, for Niles benefit, after a few moments of evaluation. The blue-eyed man nodded worriedly. “Her fever went down very slightly but is still quite high. It says in here that medication is already being administered as well as fluids, so I’m going to put a cooling pad on her forehead to help bring it down. Fever is normal for between 3 and 5 days for an infection, but 103 degrees and above could be very harmful for her system.”

Niles saw Miss Babcock flinch as the compress made contact with her scorching skin. The contrast in temperature making her screw her already closed eyes tighter and attempt to move away from the offending object.

“What happens if the cooling pads don’t help?” He asked.

“Then a cooling blanket might be needed. If that doesn’t bring it down enough either, then she’ll have to get an ice bath.”

Niles wished in his heart that he could offer more comfort than a simple hand squeeze, but it was all he had at the moment, so he did it as firmly and lasting as he could without hurting her. He could feel the nurse's eyes on him, but he didn't look up at her. He knew there wasn't any judgment on her gaze, though. He just didn't dare meet her eyes in case she asked any questions. They would be too painful for him. He was choosing the easier path and avoiding voicing his feelings for as long as he could.

Chapter Text

48 hours after C.C.’s blood sample had been taken to the laboratory, and the third day of her post-burn torment, the doctor arrived with news.

“The blood test results came back,” said the doctor to Mr. Sheffield. “They found the bacteria responsible for Miss Babcock’s symptoms to be staphylococcus aureus. It commonly lives on people’s skin, as well as their gut and respiratory tract and causes no trouble. However, it is an opportunistic bacterium and, under certain conditions, can cause a wide range of disease that go from simple abscesses and pimples to pneumonia and meningitis. It represents a common risk amongst burn patients since the skin barrier is compromised or non-existent, making it easier for microorganisms to enter the system and even bloodstream.”

“What does that mean for her?” asked a baffled Maxwell. “Will her treatment have to change somehow?”

“Yes, we have already switched to cefotaxime, which is the antibiotic most commonly used to treat bacterial meningitis to Vancomycin, as it works best against staphylococcal meningitis.”

“Will that cure her?”

“Unfortunately, her immune system is compromised as a result of her burns. We can give her any medication necessary, but at the end of the day, it’s her system that had to fight it off, and it is a disease with a high mortality rate. Thankfully, she was treated immediately after her symptoms appearead. That already gave her an advantage. Her damaged skin, however, is a big disadvantage. Staphylococcal infections are simple to get rid of when we can remove the device causing it, like breathing tubes, prosthesis, pacemakers, and even catheters. But there’s really nothing to remove here. On the contrary, it’s the absence of healthy skin in such a large part of her body that’s allowed this to happen. We can give her antibiotics, treat her fever, and hope that her body is strong enough to fight this,” explained the physician.

Mr. Sheffield covered his mouth with his right hand and looked at the floor in front of him with wide eyes, trying to take the doctor’s words in. “If she‒ when‒ if she heals, will she be okay?” Questioned the Englishman.

“We don’t know,” answered the medical practitioner trying to sound empathic. “Most people make a good recovery. We do our best to prevent any lasting damage, but there’s always the risk.”

“What kind of damage?” Requested Mr. Sheffield.

“It could be difficulty concentrating, lack of coordination, hearing loss, sight problems, seizures, arthritis, kidney problems and in case of the infection spreading through the body, even loss of limbs, but that’s only for extreme cases.”

“Are you telling me that all this could keep getting more and more complicated?” asked the English producer with weariness and unbelief.

“That’s the thing with burn victims, anything can make their condition worse.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but his words had a certain finality to them. They were like ice water being thrown at the other man’s head along with the bucket.

The producer nodded slowly and mumbled a quiet “Thank you, doctor”. The medic nodded back and went on his way, leaving a baffled Maxwell to battle his fears.

Hours after Mr. Sheffield went home, Niles was being gently pushed outside of the room and into the hallway by a male nurse. Perplexed and standing alone in the sterile and fluorescently illuminated passageway, he remembered about the cellphone currently in his pocket. Taking out the device with shaking hands, he dialed a number he knew by heart.

He heard the tone twice. “Hello?” He heard Mr. Sheffield say.

“Her heart stopped,” he blurted out.

“Niles?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He answered impatiently. “Miss Babcock’s heart stopped.” He sounded shocked even to his own ears.

“What?!”

“She‒ she crashed.” Said Niles in shock. “The beeping got very fast, and then it got very loud and suddenly she didn’t have a pulse and the nurses and doctors came into her room at the same time and told me to wait outside and I think they pushed me out and closed the door on me. They’re trying to bring her back and there’s a lot of noise coming from inside and I really think you should call her father right now because he should know about this and he should be here and I really don’t know what to do, I just thought he should know and you should know, and I don’t have his number, so I can’t contact him unless I contact you and it’s been so long already. Why hasn’t anyone come out yet?”

“Niles, calm down,” replied Maxwell urgently. “I’ll be there in just a moment, just… I’m on my way!”

The call was disconnected, and the butler had no idea what to do. He stared at the screen of his boss’s cell phone. The conversation had lasted less than a minute. How could that eternity have lasted less than a minute?! Something had to be wrong with the device! Or‒ or maybe something was very wrong with Miss Babcock. Of course something was wrong with Miss Babcock! Her heart just stopped! No one was coming out of the room, and he couldn’t go in either! He had to wait! There was nothing for him to do and he was already going mental!

Mr. Sheffield made it to the hospital in record time. He had driven his beloved sports car with urgency-driven agility. He had walked into the hospital he had left about five hours ago and directed his steps towards the elevator, stepping out when it reached the eighth floor. He found his butler seating on a hallway chair not far from C.C.’s room door looking like he’d just fought a bear. His hair was messy and greasy from repeatedly running his fingers through it, there were dark circles under his eyes and his body rested heavily on the plastic of the seat as well as the wall behind it.

“Niles!” he got the other British’s attention. “How is she?! What happened?!”

“She’s alive.” He breathed wearily. “They brought her back.”

“Oh, thank God.” Let out Maxwell slightly relieved. “What happened?” He continued after taking a seat next to his oldest friend.

“Her blood pressure started dropping even more than it already was. Her heart rhythm was getting faster and faster, and the machines were becoming very loud. I didn’t want to‒ I didn’t know what to do, so I stepped into the hallway and called the nurses to come help. They said she was in some sort of shock‒ sceptic shock, I think they called it‒ and they started working on her and I thought they were figuring it out and she would be alright but then‒ then she flatlined and this male nurse pushed me out of the room, and they closed the door on me,” rushed Niles finally taking a breath. “That’s when I called you.”

Just as Maxwell was running a hand though his own hair and taking it all in, the doctor walked out of C.C.’s room looking weary and approached them. The two Brits sprung from their seats and walked the couple of steps separating them from the medic. “How is she?” They asked in unison.

“She’s stable now,” answered Dr. Rogers. “We’ll need to monitor her more closely for the next 24 hours before we can assess any damage.”

Niles’ gulped. His mouth had gone dry. “Damage?”

“Because her heart stopped, her brain’s oxygen supply also stopped. Prolonged oxygen deprivation to the brain can cause a wide range of issues. It is the main reason for so many people not surviving long after cardiac arrest. It was about four minutes before we were able to bring her back. Brain damage usually begins within four to five minutes without oxygen.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I’m going to be very honest with you; her condition was already delicate before this; it could take a turn for the worst.” Both British men looked absolutely horrified at that. “I’m not saying that it will,” mended the physician quickly, “but I want you to be prepared for the possibility.”

Everything after this had been a blur to them. They couldn’t even tell when the doctor had left. They just remained there outside C.C.’s room looking into the wall in front of them without uttering a single word for what must’ve been an hour.

“I don’t know how I’m going to tell her father.” Mr. Sheffield had rushed to the hospital the moment he hanged up the phone. He hadn’t had a mind to call Stewart; he needed to know that C.C. was okay first. “It is certainly a call I would like to never receive as a father.” He sighed and reclined his head on the wall, his eyes still on the other wall.

“Would you rather not know?” asked Niles, speaking for the first time since the single word question he had asked the doctor.

Maxwell squinted his eyes ever so slightly, “I beg your pardon?”

In the most monotonic, expressionless voice and without tearing his gaze from the lifeless wall in front of him, his oldest friend replied, “If it were Miss Margaret or Miss Grace in the hospital and you were in a different city from them, would you rather not know that your daughter’s heart stopped, is now working again, but she might have some kind of lasting damage as a result?”

A silence stretched between them. Maxwell’s chest was falling and rising quickly, and his eyes were wide, and his lips were slightly parted. He mumbled, “I would rather know.”

“I wouldn’t like to be the one delivering the news, either, but you have to remember that Miss Babcock is also someone’s daughter,” He added in a gentler voice. “She is Stewart Babcock’s little girl, and he deserves to know… even is he’s not a very good father.”

How had he not seen it before? “You’re right…” He let out. Of course Niles was right (he so often was); he was not only at fault for C.C.’s condition, he was at fault for Stewart’s daughter near-death experience. He would’ve hunted down any guy who had dared raised his daughter’s hopes only to stand her up and ditch her for another woman any day, but especially on her birthday. But he would have probably killed any guy responsible for his daughter ending up in hospital with second- and third-degree burns that subsequently gave way to her catching a spinal and brain infection that sent her into cardiac arrest only to be brought back with the high chance of permanent brain damage.

By the time Maxwell remember where he was, his cheeks were already damp with tears he didn’t realize he had been shedding. Looking slightly to the side opposite from where Niles was sitting, he said, “I think I’m going to go home so I can talk to Stewart calmly, old man.”

“Ok, sir. I should probably go back inside so Miss Babcock doesn’t feel lonely.”

Niles would never admit what he had said in front of anyone else just like Maxwell would never admit to having cried outside of Miss Babcock’s hospital room, so they both made as if neither of those things had happened and walked to their respective destinations.

The moment the Broadway producer closed the front door of his house, the nanny came running down the stairs and started asking questions. He would have preferred to go straight to his office and make the phone call before he lost his determination. He knew it had been wishful thinking, but maybe talking about it with Miss Fine would help him process what he was feeling a little more and be calmer when he did make the call. It would only make it worse for the man on the other side of the line if he was anxious and upset himself.

“Mister Sheffield, what happened? Is something the matter with Miss Babcock? We heard the phone ring and then you left in a hurry without saying anything!”

The producer let out a long sigh and plopped down on the couch. “Her heart stopped.”

“WHAT?!”

“The doctors where able to bring her back,” he placated, “but for almost four minutes… she was gone.”

“Oh, Mr. Sheffield, that’s horrible! Thank God she’s alive. But how is she? Is she going to be okay? And what about Niles? Is he okay?” Her concern for both the butler and the socialite was very genuine in her voice.

“The doctor said she’s stable for now, but we need to wait for at least 24 hours before they can say whether she has any permanent damage. As for Niles… I’ve never heard him so scared and worried as when he called me today to tell me her heart had stopped,” explained Maxwell wearily.

“Poor Miss Babcock. She was already doing better and BAHM! Life hits her with this… and Ni-yules! Oh, poor Niles! He’s been spending so much time with her and being so kind to her for probably the first time since they’ve known each other only to have her… well, die on him!” She emphasized her words with dramatic movements of her arms and head, and it almost made Mister Sheffield smile. If only he wasn’t so shaken and tired...

“Yeah… and now I have to call her father and let him know what happened…”

“Oh, I cannot imagine what it must be like to be told that you child’s heart stopped. Poor Stewie. I mean, he hasn’t exactly been father role model, but he loves Miss Babcock. It’ll probably break his heart…” the nanny’s empathetic expression suddenly changed to a harder, more commanding one and added, “He better hop on the next plane and come visit his daughter while he still can, that man!”

“I really hope he does… for C.C.’s sake,” said Mister Sheffield in a tone that denoted disappointment and exhaustion. “I better go call him now before I lose my courage, otherwise I might never do it. And I would rather know if a were him.” The last part was said very low, almost like it was a painful secret he couldn’t keep hidden but didn’t want anyone to know.

“Ok, Mister Sheffield, you go do that. I’ll be here in case you need anything. Good luck!” She yelled after him in encouragement. “And say hi to Stewie for me!”

He sat in his green leather chair, took a deep breath, and grabbed the phone. He doesn’t remember dialing ever being this hard before, not even when he had to make that first call to Stewart just less than a month before. He pressed the receiver to his ear and waited anxiously for the other man’s voice.

“Hello,” said the pleasant and educated voice on the other side of the line.

“Hello, Stewart. It’s Maxwell again.”

“Maxwell, good to hear from you. How is C.C. doing?”

“She’s‒ she’s stable right now, but her condition is very delicate still.” He managed to sound calm without sounding too nonchalant. He didn’t want to send the message that he didn’t care.

“Is it because of the meningitis?” Now that the always unaware producer saw C.C. as a daughter (and Mister Babcock as her father), as opposed to a business partner or even his late wife’s best friend, he was confused by the lack of action on Stewart’s part. It was clear that it wasn’t fueled by ignorance, he just… didn’t see it as a priority (at least not more than his job).

“Well, yes. Her fever finally went down to normal levels thankfully, but other than that, she doesn’t seem to be making much progress. In fact,” he continued with some fear, as if the older man would remind him that it had all been his fault in the first place, “it got so bad that she went into sceptic shock this afternoon.”

“But you say she is stable now, right?” He didn’t sound too worried yet. In fact, he was much calmer than Mister Sheffield had expected him to be when he got the news. Granted, he didn’t know all the details yet, so maybe that would change once he revealed the rest of the information.

“Well, yes, she is now…” he was a kid again, trying to explain to one of his teachers from boarding school how the window to his room accidentally became broken. “…but not before her heart stopped for a few minutes…”

The Englishman was met with a silence that stretched so much that he wondered if the call had been disconnected. He glanced at the telephone base to see the little light indicating there was an ongoing call.

“I see,” he finally heard Mister Babcock say in a very small voice. “She’ll be okay, right?”

“To be honest, we don’t know.” And how I wish I could know for sure. “The doctor said she was without oxygen just long enough to cause permanent damage, but that we really can’t know until at least 24 hours have passed, and they can conduct some tests.”

With desperation in his voice and as if reassuring himself, the older man asked, “But she’s awake, isn’t she? She looks alright…?”

“Well, I‒ I haven’t seen her. I wanted to call you as soon as possible, so I left after the doctor talked to us.” An alarm went off in his head and he felt the need to reassure C.C.’s father immediately. “But I assure you she’s not alone; Niles is with her.”

“Okay,” whispered Stewart. “Thank you for calling me.”

“It’s the least I could do, sir.” Especially after not looking after your precious daughter.

“Take care, Maxwell.”

“You too, sir.” And with that, he heard the call disconnect from the other end of the line.

Chapter Text

Niles walked into the room that he was now so familiar with. He wouldn’t say that he was comfortable there (he would trade it for a tiny New York studio apartment anytime), but it would remain his favourite place to be for as long as C.C. Babcock occupied it.

He didn’t know what to expect for someone who had just been resuscitated; would she be asleep? Would she be awake? He hoped she wasn’t in a coma again. The doctor hadn’t mentioned that she would. At least he didn’t remember that he had. Could he possibly had missed it?

What he found, however, made an earth-splitting quake in his heart. Miss Babcock laid on the railed bed with the left side of her face pressed to the pillow, the oxygen mask still covering her mouth and nose, and her beautiful blue eyes open, yet glassy and so very far away. He noticed her breathing was short and shallow when he took a seat to her left. Strands of her blonde hair covered her face in ways that would have irritated any conscious person, so he lifted his hand and gently brushed them with his fingers till they rested behind her right ear.

The fingers from his left hand lifted and caressed her hand. There was no reaction from her. He felt a wet hotness behind her eyes and his sight blurred for a moment. He willed the tears not to fall and instead wrapped his strong, working hand around her slim, delicate one. “It’s okay, Babcock,” he whispered, “I’m right here.”

Leaving that night was the hardest thing he had ever done. Mister Sheffield had a very important meeting the next morning with one of the main backers, so Miss Fine would be taking the night and morning shifts at the hospital so the butler and the producer could get some rest and have everything ready for their visit. If everything went according to plan, Niles would be back to Miss Babcock’s side after lunch.

His bed had been warm and inviting. His back having missed its embracing comfort and soft cloudiness. However, sleep eluded him. Trying to relax had been more tiring than staying at the hospital. His mind had become a cage lined with bars made of thick worry. Miss Babcock had kidnapped his every thought without hope for ransom. 

After two torturous hours of endless tossing of his body and alternating positions, of his delightful mattress being like a tasteless feast, and having stoically battled against his own mind, he let out a sigh of resignation and just sprawled out facing up in his bed. He had imagined hundreds upon hundreds of terrible scenarios in which something undesirable occurred to her while he was away from her. He just couldn’t take it anymore.

What if she had died today? What would I do with myself? What would I be without her? This time, instead of fighting the thought away (he was utterly and completely exhausted from the day’s events and the turning and tossing), he allowed himself to shed a tear. More followed suit. They came down like a meteorite shower in a cloudless night; silent from afar but burning and devastating from up close.

I would endlessly long for the softness of her milky skin and die hoping for her lips. Oh, the beauty of those rosy lips… and her gorgeous fiery eyes. They are as willful and majestic as the ocean and cold as a glacier. All of her is untamed and sublime. How I miss having her in my arms and swaying her around! How I miss the way she moves around in between my arms when the music is playing, and the little smile she that adorns her face after a particularly good zinger, and even the kiss she very rarely ever blows in my direction after delivering a particularly nasty comeback that could hit too close to home for me.  

Rapid boulders on fire had been replaced with shimmering twinkles of joy. Crying had been the perfect medicine for his soul. His once worrisome thoughts became delightful and placid dreams, and the dense darkness that once suffocated him turned into a cozy cocoon of bliss. He dreamed of endless dancing coloured with the sound of her brassy laugh.

He woke up fresh and happy. His body still craved for more rest, yet he was eager to tackle the morning only so he could go back to Miss Babcock’s bedside.

Miss Babcock’s image continued to be reformed in Fran’s eyes the longer she spent at that hospital. She had looked much less invincible the day she had first visited her after the fire, all wrapped in bandages and with the many tubes coming out of her body. Then, when her face and neck had been relieved of their bandages and she could see her face again yet knew her eyes wouldn’t open in the near future, she had become so much more like a human to the nanny and less like the monster she needed to protect the Sheffield children from. This time, her eyes were open during the day, but her mind was still as far away (if not more) as it had been when the coma had been induced. She looked fragile and vulnerable.

The strongheaded, no-nonsense Broadway producer had been like a defenseless rag doll in the hands of the medical staff when they had entered the room and proceeded to re-insert a small tube through her nose so she could be fed in her current state. To say it was unsettling would be to downplay it. She would settle for no less than world-changing and haunting, especially when she felt a tug in her chest and her heart was moved for the blonde businesswoman. There was a strong desire to protect the lady she had once hated, and it brought tears to her eyes.

She was ashamed of herself, and angry. She had prided herself with being a better person than Miss Babcock ever since she had met the rich blonde at that first backer’s party three and a half years ago, yet she had been the one to see C.C. Babcock as less than a human being. And not to forget that she was partially at fault for her current predicament. The tears that now flowed like a crowded Indian street were those of anger and shame for herself, and sadness and sympathy for Miss Babcock.

Fran loved Stewart and Noel (especially the former), but now that she had seen with her own eyes the lack of involvement and care of the whole family in C.C.’s life, she could form an idea on why the American producer was the kind of person she was. The poor woman was practically alone in the world and instead of proving her wrong, the nanny had aided in the constant reminder of that reality. No genuinely good person would have done that. Granted, the socialite had never been a saint (or even pleasant for Fran to be around), but Miss Fine now realized she probably had never known anything other than surviving on her own. She didn’t lack money or resources; she lacked people and affection.

The nanny raised her right hand slowly and with heartfelt sentiment squeezed Miss Babcock’s limp hand.

“It’s okay, Miss Babcock. We’ll help you through this. You’re not alone anymore. You’re not alone,” she choked through her tears. Gracie’s words were dancing in her mind like the young people in those Spring Break parties from T.V., and just like them, she spent the whole night awake only, instead of partying, she spent her time worrying and feeling like the greatest hypocrite in the world.

If anyone had told Niles only a month ago that he would feel happy and relieved to be in the hospital instead of the Sheffield mansion, he would’ve asked them what kind of drugs they were using, especially after they dared to mention it would be to spend countless hours with C.C. Babcock herself. He wasn’t sure why it surprised him; his whole world was upside down now, anyway. He was positive that neither of them could go back to the way things were before after this (for good or bad), no matter the outcome.

The Oxford graduate entered the room upon covering with the appropriate attire. The first thing he saw after he opened the door was the nanny sitting next to the blonde, and was she… holding her hand? He chuckled internally. That was definitely a sight he would have never thought he would see. Granted, the blonde in question wasn’t exactly aware, but the brunette was, and yet, as far as he knew, she was doing it intentionally.

Miss Fine gave him a sad smile when she noticed him approaching. “Hi, Scarecrow.”

“Hello, Miss Fine. How is she?” Asked Niles after returning the small smile.

“I’m not sure. She’s still very out of it, but she’s been mumbling things. That’s gotta be good, right? That’s gotta mean she’s slowly waking up, and that’s why she’s trying to communicate with us?” The loud woman’s brow furrowed in thought. “What if she’s trying to communicate something important to us but is not able to?” Her eyes widened at that, and her finger went to her chin. “That can’t be good,” she mumbled. “Or maybe her brain is just trying to make sense of the situation while she recovers enough to understand what is happening! That would be good too, right?” She mended after seeing Niles’ fallen expression.

“I really don’t know, Miss Fine,” sighed the butler. “I’ve never been one to understand what goes on inside Miss Babcock’s head.” He told himself that he was being nonchalant for the sake of keeping his feelings a secret, but deep down he was afraid that he had never truly understood her motives and the feelings behind them.

“How did Mister Sheffield’s meeting go?” inquired the nosy woman attempting to change the subject and encourage a lighter mood.

“Good. The investor is very happy with the current production’s numbers.”

“He better be! Because these two have worked really hard to get this play up to perfection!”

“You’re right, making choreographers cry is no easy job,” joked the blonde man. They shared a laugh and a tiny weight lifted from their shoulders.

Miss Babcock had been murmuring unintelligible words for two days now. Niles had been hopeful that the nanny had been right, and it meant that the blue-eyed producer was in fact waking up. The doctor, however, had stated that it was part of the mental fog caused by the inflamed meninges. It didn’t mean that she was getting better or worse exactly, just that her body was not done fighting the infection and her brain was still being compressed by the swelling.

This time, however, the mumbling sounded more like words. He couldn’t understand them at first, so he got very, very close to where her face was in an attempt to hear her more clearly. When he did, her eyes opened a bit more, her gaze focused on him for the first time in days. She seemed surprised and cautiously excited before asking, “Grandmama is that you?”

The poor butler was at a loss for words. His mind going a mile a minute. How should he answer? What should he think of it? He knew she didn’t have a close relationship with most people in her family‒ or probably any other person‒ but her expression was one of a happy child, something he had never seen coming from her before. Sure, she loved her brother Noel, but this was different. She seemed genuinely happy in an innocent way‒ no thousand-dollar bets or strength competitions, no everything-has-to-be absolutely-perfect-for-daddy panics, only happiness.

“Grandmama?” She pressed. Her eyebrows knitting together.

“Yes, child,” he replied tenderly. Her expression relaxed again, and the corners of her mouth went up.

“It’s been so long! I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you, too.” He had almost chocked the words our and his eyes were filled with tears.

Her eyes were now closed but the smile remained. “Oh, I love you, grandmama…” She whispered as she drifted off once more.

Niles waited for a couple of beats, then rose his hand to smooth over her hair and in the tiniest whisper possible he responded, “I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

Miss Babcock’s mind had been all over the place since the grandmama episode. Hallucinations had been a common occurrence ever since then. Niles had noticed how that first one had been pleasant, but it was not always the case. Most of them were either filled with panic or pain. He didn’t always understand who the person she thought she was talking to was, but her feelings were always as clear as water. She had never been one to carry her heart on her sleeve, but all her inhibitions had gone on holiday since she had started seeing things that weren’t there. It pained him that so many of her memories were unpleasant ones; that her past had been filled with so much pain and heartbreak that she had learned to never open her heart to others. The worst part was that they still plagued her because she had bottled them all inside.

Everyone knew that C.C. went to therapy regularly, but he was starting to suspect that she had never truly opened up to her therapist. She had been going for twenty years already, yet so many seemingly unresolved issues were surfacing out in the fragile state her mind and brain were currently in.

He found himself feeling so worried for and frustrated at her. He also felt frustrated with himself. Why couldn’t he do anything to help? He just sat there and held her hand, but what was it really doing? It wasn’t like that took her symptoms away or made the situation better in any way! Well… it made her not being alone, said a voice in his mind that sounded too much like his own to be comfortable. It also meant that she didn’t have to be stuck with his cowardly boss who would probably only serve to bring her more stress, and that certainly wouldn’t help her recovery. He sighed deeply.

He couldn’t stand the hard plastic chair for one more minute even after shifting his position for what must have been a hundred times, so he got up to walk to the door, but he stood still in hesitation, his mind trying to decide. His feet were glued to the floor beneath them. He was about to leave it as it was, but a look at her closed eyelids and exhausted expression gave him the push he needed, and suddenly feeling weightless he walked floatingly to her side, where he leaned in and tenderly planted his warm lips on her forehead. He was surprised to find her skin much cooler than it had been in about a week. He could almost swear her fever was not just within the normal range anymore, but completely gone. The ghost of a smile lightened his features, and as he went into the hallway to get himself some coffee, he considered the possibility that maybe his presence wasn’t so useless to her after all.

Chester loved being at the mansion. He loved Niles and the Sheffield’s. But most of all, he loved nanny Fine. She was his favourite person. He followed her around and curled on her lap every time she sat down; he growled at anyone that tried to take him away from her; he even listened to Barbra Streisand’s songs with the nanny and barked along to them contentedly.

He cared for his master, of course. She did, after all, pamper him and shower him with so many nice things. She made sure he was always well walked, took him along on many of her trips, and flew him on first class with her. Still, he had never shown any sign of sadness at her absence. He was usually too distracted by his beloved Fran to miss his owner.

For the last three days, however, he had only nibbled at his food and barely drank any water. Miss Fine had figured he was just enjoying the human food she shared with him so much that he didn’t want to eat his dry and insipid kibble (as expensive and nutritious as it was). He was just acting like a spoiled dog, and it was normal, she had thought.

Gracie had then noticed how the little dog was sleeping so much more than he usually did, and that he was refusing to play with most of his stuff. Only two of his favourite toys would get him excited, and even that lasted only for a few minutes before he lost all interest and went back to his bed.

The family didn’t put two and two together even when on Friday afternoon the Pomeranian refused to go sit on the nanny’s lap when she called his name, choosing instead to curl up on his own little bed with his little chin resting on his paws. It was only after the furry friend sneaked into Mister Sheffield’s office and hoped onto the green loveseat and refused to come down that they finally understood, and it made something inside of them break a bit more.

The day had felt particularly long and boring to Niles. Nothing was happening, no one was around, even the doctors and nurses were making less frequent visits now that Miss Babcock’s fever had disappeared, yet he was always on edge. The blonde producer had been very quiet throughout the day. Her eyes had been open most of the time, but no words came out of her. If she had hallucinated or not, he couldn’t tell.

Every little sound made his breath hitch and his hold on the woman’s hand go tighter. His gaze would suddenly travel to the heart monitor every time he heard something even slightly out of the ordinary. He would read the numbers displayed two and three times over just to make sure he had read them correctly and everything really was normal (or at least stable).

The chair was too hard, or too small, or too straight (not that it had ever been comfortable before), but the couch was too far from the bed to hold her hand, and that only served to make him more anxious. Yet the room made him feel trapped and claustrophobic. He would get up and pace around for a couple of minutes, but his anxiety always brought him back to her side way too quickly.

He had gone down to the cafeteria at noon to have some lunch, but the food didn’t appeal to him. He felt somewhat hungry, but even the thought of eating made his stomach turn with disgust. He ended up buying the smallest meal the cafeteria had to offer. It was more of a snack pack, and even that felt like too much to his unsettled body.

He had taken the elevator back up to the eighth floor and settled once again on the seat he was sure would have the shape of his rear end imprinted by now. The clock was ticking painfully slow and all he felt up for was taking a hot shower that he hoped would wash away the stiffness in his muscles and the disquietude of his mind.

Ring, ring! The small device was heard from inside Niles’ left pocket. He looked at the small, illuminated screen as he took it out. He didn’t recognize the number and his boss didn’t have it registered. Should he pick up, or just ignore it? He considered for a moment and decided to take the call. He didn’t have anything else to do, anyway. It could be a good distraction.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hello. Is this Maxwell Sheffield?” Said a familiar sounding male voice.

“Yes, this is his number. I’m afraid Mister Sheffield can’t come to the phone right now, but I can take a message for him if you like.”

“Are you his butler?” curiosity filled the other man’s voice.

“Yes, this is Niles. Would you like to leave a message for him, or would you prefer he call you back once he’s able to?”

“Please tell him Noel Babcock called. Tell him that I want to know more about C.C.’s condition.” Niles was taken by surprise at this. He had expected so much more from Miss Babcock’s family when they were first notified about the fire. But after four weeks, he had resigned to the entire contact consisting of Stewart answering Mister Sheffield’s calls, yet never being the one to call (or visit).

Knowing what little he knew about the blonde producer’s relationship with her brother, he had expected for him to be the one to reach out about her condition, except he had expected for it to take place no more than a couple of days after their father had been made aware. The whole family was really messed up, and the cold and selfish personality of C.C. Babcock just made more sense to Niles the more he learned about them.

In his most butler-esque voice he managed to say, “Of course, sir. I’ll pass your message along.”

“Thank you. Just… one more thing,” hesitated Noel.

“Yes?”

“Could you tell me if she is okay?” pleaded the producer’s brother with the tiniest hint of desperation in his words.

In a somewhat defeated voice, Niles replied, “She’s alive, if that’s what you mean.”

“I know,” replied the Noel shortly. “My father told me about her heart stopping‒ it’s kind of the reason why I finally decided to call… But is she… awake?”

The butler sighed deeply. “Her eyes are open during most of the day, so she’s not back in comma, but I’m not sure that I could exactly say she is awake, sir.” Should I tell him about the hallucinations?

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Noel too let out a sigh. “I see.” The professor continued after another moment, “Thank you, Niles. Please tell Maxwell to call me back as soon as possible.”

“I will, sir. Have a good afternoon.”

The call ended, leaving the butler feeling alone with only the beeping of the machines to disrupt the silence.

A short eternity had gone by, it was almost 9 p.m. now, and he was about to go back to the mansion. He had skipped dinner. The Sheffield’s would have eaten the food he had prepped that morning for them hours ago, but a strong feeling of dread had prevented him from leaving the hospital. He had taken a walk along the corridors of the building but hadn’t had the heart to leave the premises.

Just as he stood up and let go of her hand, something like a grunt of complain came out of her throat. He looked up at her to see her go very tense before her body began shaking in short, violent movements. He panicked and ran to the door. “Help! Help!” He desperately screamed into the hallway. He figured it would be better than to press the button. “Please, she needs help!” He continued until a group of nurses had filled the room.

“She’s convulsing,” he heard one of the nurses say.

He felt himself hyperventilating. She’s what now?!

“Put her in the recovery position,” said another voice, or was it the same one?

He was also partially aware of someone taking the time of the episode but couldn’t have told one from the other if asked. The scene around him was simultaneously happening too quickly and too slow.

In reality, it wasn’t long before the spasming stopped and the room quieted down. Niles let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Back at the mansion, the little dog that had been occupying the green loveseat inside Maxwell’s office whined in distress. No one and nothing could calm him down. Fran had tried to carry him upstairs to her room so he wouldn’t be alone at night, but he had clawed the leather seat in refusal. The flashy woman had accepted the furry thing’s wishes and placed his little bed next to him in case he got cold and wanted to lay on it without having to be away from his master’s scent.

Niles had ended up staying the whole night at the hospital, exhausted as he was. The family had become worried by his absence and the nanny had offered to make the trip to the medical institution where she would convince him to go home and rest. It hadn’t been as simple as she thought.

“Good morning, Scarecrow,” She greeted upon entering.

“Miss Fine, what are you doing here?” He questioned confused.

“I’m here because you spent the whole day here yesterday and didn’t come home last night. We’re worried you might be neglecting yourself because you’re too focused on keeping Miss Babcock company,” answered the woman just sternly enough, like she was scolding a child instead of a grown man.

“I appreciate the concern, Miss Fine, but I assure you I’m not the one who needs to be looked after. I mean, I am a bit tired, but that’s to be expected after all that’s happened in the last month, right?” His words would have been convincing if the dark circles under his eyes and the lines adorning his face weren’t so deep.

“Oh, Niles. I know you’re worried about Miss Babcock. I might not understand your strange friendship, but I can tell you miss her. It just won’t do anyone any good to have you fall sick because you’re not taking care of yourself.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off and in a sweet tone added, “All I’m saying is that you should go home and rest for a few hours. Then you can come back and spend more time with your friend.”

“We promised Miss Gracie we wouldn’t leave her alone,” defended the blonde man.

Fran made a mental note to dig deeper on her friend’s feeling for the socialite once he was better rested. “And we are not going to break that promise because I’m staying here until you’ve had a few hours of sleep. Maybe you can try and cheer little Chester up; the poor thing’s dragged himself onto the green couch Miss Babcock always sits in and refuses to come down. The whole night he spent whining. I swear I’ve never seen him so sad.”

He gave a tiny, weary nod. “I’ll see what I can do.” With that, he stood up and walked to the door.

“Thanks, sweetie!” She nasally yelled after him.

About an hour later, C.C. stirred and groaned lightly.

“Nanny Fine?” she asked after slightly opening her eyes for a quick moment. “What are you doing here?” The sound of her voice muffled by the mask covering her mouth and nose.

In a low voice, as if trying not to disturb her, she answered, “Just making sure you’re not alone,” and gently patted her hand.

C.C. nodded without fully understanding what that meant. “Where’s Niles?” she mumbled.

“I sent him home, but he’ll be back in a few hours. Just go back to sleep and don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’ll be back by the time you wake up,” assured the nanny.

The Broadway producer gave another short nod with her eyes already closed and fell into a peaceful sleep.

True to the nanny’s words, Niles was back when C.C. woke up again. He was the first thing she saw when her eyelids fluttered open. They both felt a wave of relief wash over them, but neither said a thing about it.

“What happened now?” groaned C.C. Her eyes were heavy and her voice raspy.

“Let’s see…” began Niles teasingly. “Your mother sent flowers, your heart stopped, and your brother called.”

“What?” She asked with a frown adorning her face, as if the information her ears had just received was too difficult for her brain to decode. It was a question filled with deep weariness and confusion. “My‒” a small cough interrupted her words, and Niles helped her take a nice gulp of water from the glass that had been delivered by the same nurse who had removed Miss Babcock’s oxygen mask while Niles rested and Fran kept her company.

“Yes, your mother sent flowers. Surprising, isn’t it?” Continued the butler fully knowing that was not what the other blonde had wanted to ask about.

C.C. groaned and rolled her eyes at the man. “Please… she probably wrote something generic like, ‘get well soon, darling.’” Niles averted his gaze, and she knew she was right. It hurt, but it didn’t take her by surprise. She cleared her throat as if it could get rid of both the physical and emotional pain, as well as clear the sudden discomfort that had filled the room. “What do you mean my heart… stopped?” She added almost afraid.

The man scrunched his nose and rubbed a hand to his face. “You remember the tests the doctor conducted after you complained about the headache and stiff neck?” The woman nodded slowly as if to test her neck. “Well, the results showed you had an infection in the fluid surrounding your brain and spine. The doctor called it meningitis and it’s caused by bacteria that entered your system through your burnt skin. It made your head hurt so much because the membranes around your brain swell up and put pressure on it. You developed a high fever, and your blood pressure was very low. They were able to prevent your temperature from raising even higher, but it was still very high. Your blood pressure, on the other hand, kept going lower and lower until one day you went into shock because of the infection and…” he had to swallow the lump in his throat before he finished, “your heart stopped.”

It took several minutes of deep breaths on Miss Babcock’s part to only begin to wrap her head around it, and Niles waited patiently in silence for her. “Were you here when it happened?” She whispered.

“I was,” he confirmed in an equally low voice, eyes on the floor.

“Thank you.”

The corners of his lips raised millimetrically. “You’re welcome.” He let a heartbeat pass by. His eyes travelled to hers. “But please… don’t ever do that again. If you go, you go, just don’t try to make it interesting. Life’s already scary enough as it is without you waking up from the dead.”

An evil grin adorned her features. “I make no promises.” His smirk grew at her response. “Now… tell me about Noel’s call.”

Chapter Text

Two more seizures had taken over her body since that first one on December 13. They hadn’t been less scary for Niles, but he had been able to remain calm. The nurses had even taught him how to put her in the recovery position so he could be prepared for when (not if) they occurred again. It had been overwhelming to learn that the seizures would remain a normal aspect of her life for the foreseeable future, courtesy of meningitis.

The episodes left her exhausted and a bit confused, so she would fall asleep after about 10 minutes of one having passed, and not wake up until one or two hours later. She said the jerky movements hurt her now extremely delicate skin when Niles asked her, and she was always very hungry upon having waken. The headache had gradually subsided, but the mental fog was proving stubborn.

The doctor had also expressed the necessity for Miss Babcock to begin physical therapy as soon as possible. He had said that the circumstances had prevented for her to start the exercises earlier and they worried that a longer wait would hinder her range of motion.

The fracture on her right leg wouldn’t allow her to walk for a while longer, but she wouldn’t have the strength to do so after four weeks of being bedridden and in such a delicate state. The medic had informed them that the exercises would all take place on the bed until she was able to hold herself up on crutches.

The first exercise had sounded simple enough‒ to sit up in bed and let her legs dangle off the edge. Doing it, however, had proven a monumental task to C.C. First, sitting up straight still sent her head spinning for a few seconds. But that wasn’t as uncomfortable as the pain of the tight skin on her backside being stretched. The pulling sensation made her want to scream and brought tears to her eyes. Of course, being who she was, she wouldn’t allow the cry to leave her lips, so she gritted her teeth and grinded the bottom row against the other.

The hanging of her legs was much easier on her since the posterior part of her lower limbs‒ the injured part‒ was being contracted and not stretched. The rush of blood made her feet feel heavy and warm. It was a nice contrast to how cold her feet had been since the night of the fire and to the numbness that having her right leg elevated caused.

The whole session lasted less than 10 minutes, but it could very well have been hours by how drained it had left her. On top of it, she had told Niles she didn’t need him there for that. “I know how to sit up on my own, tidy bowl. I’ve effectively done it thousands of times before, and I don’t recall needing your assistance any of those times,” she had said. Oh, how she regretted her decision now! It wasn’t that she didn’t want his support, it rather had to do with her pride and the possibility of having it hurt. If she was honest, though, nothing about her situation was empowering or even flattering for her. She might as well just accept what little comfort he could provide her with.

She was glad to see him peek his head inside the room only a minute after the doctor had left.

“The physiotherapist said I could come back now. Is that okay, or will I become a statue if I look directly into your eyes?” He asked with his eyes tightly closed.

“Shut up and come in, rubber maid,” was her irritated response. Her pride told her to pretend she was completely fine, but her body didn’t have enough energy for that.

After opening his eyes with a mischievous grin and seating down on the chair, he asked her, “How did seating up go?”

She made a face. “I told you to shut up,” she grumbled at the same time as she diverted her eyes so he wouldn’t see the pain in them.

“Considering the dark circles around your eyes and how heavy you are leaning on the pillows I would say seating up wasn’t a baby’s task after all,” teased Niles.

C.C. closed her eyes and stifled a sigh. “It is a baby’s task. That’s what makes it so frustrating,” she said through gritted teeth.

Not without empathy, he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, but as shocking as it sounds, this isn’t your fault, butler boy… It’s Maxwell’s.” The last part came out as a grumble, which matched her hatred-filled expression.

Being awake and conscious for more than 24 hours was proving to be a challenge for Miss Babcock. Niles was just collateral damage, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier on him. Some days were filled with good banter and snarky comments, while others were gloomy and full of tears. The doctors and nurses had tried to reassure them stating that it was a normal part of the recovery of burn victims. Well, it didn’t bring any comfort to Niles to hear it.

When Niles approached the door to the socialite’s room, he got a hint of what kind of day it was for the other blonde. He braced himself and went in. He found her curled up on her side sobbing.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked.

“I’ve never been anybody’s first choice,” she cried miserably.

“Now, that’s ridiculous!” The words and the indignation in his voice caught her attention enough to make her look him in the eye. “When I think of a good zinger, you’re always the first person that comes to my mind! You’ve always been my favourite person to annoy.”

She almost smiled silently before the dam broke once more.

“What is it now?” asked Niles trying to sound as unaffected as always even though he was worrying on the inside.

“Why hasn’t anyone come to see me?” She whined.

The butler cast his gaze down. How was he to respond to that? The answer wasn’t simple if he were to be honest. She was not an easy person to deal with, no. She was very complicated, in fact. She was a stubborn, demanding, and uptight woman. She could be very rude and hurtful when she wanted to be (which happened to be very often). But she was also well educated, sophisticated, and regal. She acted the way society expected, while also staying unique. On the other hand, she wasn’t an authentic person. She wore a thick mask and put on a fake smile. She didn’t open her heart to others or showed much empathy. She was bitter and selfish. Yet she had a past filled with hurt, disappointment, and loss. She was tenacious, but obsessive.

Nonetheless, she had been a good daughter. Always doing what her parents asked of her (sans getting married to a rich man and becoming a woman of leisure, like her mother wanted), yet they couldn’t take the time to visit their sick and injured daughter at the hospital. They hadn’t even tried to contact her directly. B.B. had sent the same kind of gesture she would have sent any other person‒ just a flower bouquet with a small generic note. She hadn’t even bothered to write her daughter’s name. She was just another “darling” to her like everyone else was.

She also had siblings, and none of them had stopped by either. It had taken Noel almost a whole month to reach out, but at least he had called. Unlike D.D. who hadn’t made the smallest attempt at getting in touch with C.C. or the Sheffield’s in any way.

Where were the people from the theater industry and her so called friends?

“They don’t want to see me because they know I’m ugly! I was already ugly before the fire, so they must think I look like a monster now!” This wasn’t her dramatic “crying” whines; this was a deeply felt, ugly cry. The tears had dampened her cheeks on the way down; her whole face was red and puffy. 

“Miss Babcock,” he tried gently. “you’re not ugly.”

“Oh, please! You said it yourself! You said it so many times! You said I was fat and ugly… you basically called me a monster so many times and in so many ways! And that was before I was drunk inside a burning building because a man stood me up on my birthday for another woman and a scorching piece of rubbish landed on me and made my dress catch on fire because I’m old, and disgusting, and unlovable, and nobody wants me! You’re only saying that to make me feel better, but you know it’s not true!”

Her words were like sharp knives to the heart of the butler. He wanted to ask how she could believe such a thing… but he already knew the answer. He wanted to yell that whoever said that was the biggest idiotic liar in the history of humanity, and he knew it was true… because he knew that’s what he was‒ the biggest idiot and the biggest liar.

“I’m sorry…”

“What?” She was taken aback for the fraction of a second. “Please spare me your ‘I’m sorry the fire didn’t kill you; it would’ve done the world a huge favor’ speech.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on hers. “Miss Babcock, I’ve been trying all these years to convince myself that you’re not the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on; that you’re not a woman and that gorgeous isn’t an understatement when describing you. Every single insult, and every comment about your weight and age, they were all meant to convince myself. But instead, I convinced you.”

Was he truly apologizing?

“I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. I know I wouldn’t.” He caught himself being stared at by his favourite icy blue eyes. Although she looked astonished, her lips were slightly parted, and her pupils dilated. And before any of them could make sense of what was happening, she pushed herself forward and caught his lips with hers.

They were just beginning to melt into it when the sudden sound of a phone ringing startled them. They parted from each other, and Niles took out Mr. Sheffield’s phone from his pant pocket. He looked at the tiny screen and only then realized he was panting. After taking a couple of calming breaths, the butler clicked the small button that would connect the call.

“Good afternoon, sir… yes, yes, she’s right here.” He offered the device to C.C. and said, “your brother wants to talk to you.”

The woman’s eyes lit up and she promptly took the phone from the butler’s hand. She pressed it to her chest as she tried to compose herself so Noel wouldn’t notice how ragged her breathing was.

“Noel?” She asked as she tried to conceal most of her excitement.

“Hello, C.C.” He sounded relieved. “It’s good to hear you. I was very concerned about you, but you sound… almost happy.” He commented. A smile could be heard on his voice. “Maybe I really should be concerned,” he teased.

Miss Babcock chuckled. “Really, Noel? You seriously think I’m happy to be in the hospital, covered in bandages, a cast, and a gown that is the greatest insult to fashion?”

“Oh, not at all. But judging by the way both you and the butler were panting, I rather think it would have something to do with him rather than hospital’s clothes, or otherwise.”

C.C. could feel the blood rising from her neck and colouring her face. She tried to avert her eyes away from Niles in an attempt to cover her embarrassment. “You just… caught us in a bad moment, that’s all,” she tried to mend lamely.

“Us?” He was just full of teasing today, wasn’t he?

“Well, you did just call Maxwell’s cell phone to talk to me.”

“Yes, well…” answered her brother, “yours wasn’t exactly available…”

“What do you‒ oh…” realization hit her.

“Yeah… I’m guessing they’re not fireproof, huh?”

“Guess not,” said the youngest Babcock with resignation.

In a sad voice, Noel added, “And I guess you’re not either…”

“…no,” she whispered gloomily.

In a more meaningful tone he asked, “How are you, C.C.?” all teasing forgotten.

“I’m‒” How was she? “This sucks,” she let out in a wet whisper.

C.C. had two more leg-dangling sessions the following days (one each day). She had learned her lesson, though. So, when the physiotherapist had approached her announcing it was time for her exercises and the man she considered her frenemy made to leave, she asked, “Where do you think you are going?”

The Englishman turned around with one eyebrow raised and answered, “To wait outside and give you privacy for your lycanthropy session, of course.”

She tried to be as nonchalant with her response as he had been. “Don’t be ridiculous, lemon pledge, you were there when the first wolf turned into a human. This is nothing compared to that.”

“But‒”

“Stay… please.”

He paused for a moment looking deep into her eyes, probably searching for the joke in them, but eventually conceded, “Very well, then. I’ll stay and protect the poor doctor; you really need his help, after all.”

She responded with a roll of her eyes and accepted the hand he offered.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Babs,” He greeted the morning before Christmas eve after entering Miss Babcock’s door.

The other blonde directed her gaze at him from the T.V. and said, “Hey, tidy bowl.”

“How are your burns?” Asked the butler upon taking a seat.

C.C. groaned in complaint. “It feels like my skin is crumpling into itself and soon it will be too small on me.”

“At least you’ll have tight skin for the first time in centuries,” replied Niles in mock seriousness.

“Which is more than I can say about you,” she countered.

“Well, of course‒ your vocabulary doesn’t go that far,” explained the butler matter-of-factly.

“I’ll give you some vocabulary, tidy bowl,” deadpanned C.C.

“Ancient Latin doesn’t count, witch” sassed Niles.

“Oh, it has numbers alright,” assured the socialite.

The butler nodded. “Yes, but do you know them?”

“Well enough to tell you how many minutes until you die,” she threatened playfully.

“In a good mood, I see.” His comment was accompanied by a sly smirk.

“What’s the matter, butler boy?” She grinned teasingly. “Ran out of bullets so early?”

“Oh, I have bullets for days… but your kind only dies if they’re silver.”

“Cheap jewelry will do fine. That’s all you can afford, anyway,” the blonde woman said looking him up and down.

The Englishman scoffed. “If cheap jewelry could do, you would’ve married the first gardener that sprung the question. Oh, that’s right, nobody has ever asked you.”

C.C. furrowed her brow and glared at him. “Swine.”

“Chicken.”

They both smiled in satisfaction before Niles raised his left hand to show that he was holding a poker deck.

“I brought cards,” he mentioned. Smile never leaving his face.

She nodded for him to sit on one of the chairs next to her. “It was about time you did something useful.”

“Oh, you don’t pay me enough for that.”

“I don’t pay you at all,” she corrected.

“Maybe you should,”

“Maybe you should just shut up and deal,” said Miss Babcock unamused. So, deal he did.

“So? What are your plans for Christmas, butler boy?” questioned Miss Babcock coyly after what must have been an hour of play. She had been feeling anxious about the upcoming holidays, more importantly how she would be spending them. But she was still a Babcock; she knew how to take and demand, sure, but she didn’t know how to simply… ask.

“Well, I still have to prepare Christmas dinner for the Sheffield’s like every year,” he started. She was filled with disappointment, which she tried to mask. She would’ve been successful in front of anyone else, but not with him. “But we both know it isn’t Christmas if I don’t ruin your day,” he finished with a sly smile.

“So? Are you going to?” she questioned hopefully.

“Ruin your day, you mean?” asked Niles acting like the question bored him. “I’m looking forward to it.” He smiled.

Games and conversation flowed between them for hours. The T.V. had long been forgotten, but neither of them bothered to turn it off, so it remained as background noise until a nurse had delivered Ms. Babcock’s dinner and offered to turn it off herself.

“You know, Niles…” began Miss Babcock. “When I was in coma, I could feel some things. I could hear… just voices, mainly. But there was this‒ this presence, steady and… safe. I could see a figure in my dreams that always made me feel that way, but I could never see his face.”

“His face?” Asked Niles in clarification.

“Yeah, I think it was a man,” she confirmed.

“Maybe it was Mister Sheffield,” he suggested playfully.

“Pah-lease! Maxwell’s never made me feel noticed, how could he make me feel safe?” Questioned C.C. with underlying annoyance.

“He’s very predictable; that could count as steady.” Suggested Niles uncommittedly.

“Predictable enough to know that he’ll run for cover at the first sign of danger.” She rolled her eyes. “He won’t have time to think about anyone else… except, maybe, his brats.”

“He would never forget about me!” exclaimed Niles in feigned indignation. “I would be the person he calls to get his children to safety!”

C.C. chuckled and a grin formed on her face. “You’re right; he’d use you as his scapegoat.” The man matched her grin with one of his own while locking his gaze with hers. “What I wanted to say,” began the woman again after a moment of comfortable silence. “Was that I didn’t feel completely alone. I wasn’t exactly comfortable, either‒ I could still feel some of the pain‒ but it felt like there was someone… taking care of me from the shadows.” Her voice had lowered to just above a whisper. Then she paused. “I think I know this presence… from‒ from another life.” Her eyes never left his. They were pleading for his to understand the meaning behind her words. Or maybe they were telling him what her mouth wouldn’t admit just because her heart had given the green light.

“A life before Mister Sheffield was amongst the ten most eligible bachelors?” The question sounded innocent enough, but C.C. knew him well enough to recognize the hint of pain and jealousy in his voice.

“A life before a drunk driver took away my two best friends.” She countered almost vulnerable. Her eyes soft.

Niles’ chest was rising quickly, but his gaze remained on hers. Too much had happened; too much had changed. Yet somehow it felt like he hadn’t moved at all. Like the entire world had gone on and his feet had been buried in place to make sure he would never move. Even she had moved on. Not from Sara’s death, or from her past, but she had moved on from what they almost had; from the dreams he thought they had shared; from the family he could’ve had with her. He could almost hear her saying “I’m not sure that I want it anymore.” Those words, of course, had never been spoken, but her actions had given them away.

“Babcock…” he started. “You’ve been chasing Maxwell for years now‒”

“Maxwell’s and idiot.” She interrupted in defiance.

“That’s never stopped you before. Maybe you didn’t see it; maybe you chose to ignore it, but he has always been an idiot.”

“He never hurt me like this before.”

“You don’t stop loving someone just because they hurt you.

“Then maybe I don’t love him.” C.C. pointed out.

“But you could still want him.” As much as he knew that already, he didn’t want to give in to false hopes.

“I don’t even wanna see him, Niles!”

“Exactly; you haven’t seen him because you’re mad at him right now, and rightly so. But what if you see him and realize that you still feel something for him?”

“What if I don’t?” She challenged now getting worked up.

“What if you do?” He countered.

“We were having a nice conversation for once! Why are you so invested in ruining it with this?” It was so like her to avoid the question.

“Because I can’t bear the thought of sharing your heart with him. You know I can’t compete with him. Well, maybe his intelligence.” He spoke. “Definitely his intelligence.” He muttered. “But I cannot offer the same as him. And I can’t handle being your second, or your last choice… especially not to a man who doesn’t even look at you twice.”

C.C.’s brow furrowed in thought. It remained like that for a moment during which neither of them uttered a word. “Niles?” He only raised his gaze in response. “Have we had this conversation before?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I‒ I think I remember you saying that before. You said something about that kiss in the living room and how the only reason I was there was to seduce Maxwell, but I ended up kissing you instead. Except I don’t remember what I said to you… I don’t even remember having a conversation about that evening. I thought we were avoiding the subject.”

“We were…” He confirmed vaguely.

“Then why do I remember you saying all that?” She demanded.

He sighed and momentarily closed his eyes. “Because I did tell you all that on Thanksgiving… when you were still in coma.”

“Oh.”

The butler averted his eyes and pursed his lips into a thin line. He was fidgeting with his hands and a slight shade of red had crawled up from his neck and colored his face. Most of him was glad that she had heard him, partly because it meant he wouldn’t have to say it again, but mostly because she now knew and wouldn’t be able to feign ignorance.

“Niles…” She said tentatively. When he didn’t move, she tried again. “Niles.” He looked in her general direction but didn’t meet her eyes. “Would you just look at me, you stubborn old man?” Said the producer more forcefully (more like herself if you ask Niles). He took another moment before making eye contact with her again (proving her point). “I don’t love Maxwell.” She stated firmly and with no venom in her voice.

He nodded almost imperceptibly. “I know.” He said under his breath.

“You know?” He nodded more visibly this time. “Then why are you making such a big deal out of this?!”

“Because you keep forgetting, Babcock!” She answers by letting out a scoff and rolling her eyes to the side. “Oh, no, you don’t get to dismiss this now! You brought it up, so be the man I know you are and talk it through!”

Her arms were crossed, and her gaze was down, but she let out a small chuckle at his familiar comment. She desperately tried to fight the tears forming in her eyes. “It’s just‒ why am I so impossible to love, Niles?”

“Would you like me to give you a list?” The question was intended as a joke, but when it didn’t get the desired effect, the blonde man changed his approach. “You’re not impossible to love, and you know it.” You know I love you.

“And yet you are refusing my offer,” She replied bitterly.

“First of all, you haven’t made an offer‒”

“I thought it was implied.” Her impatience was now very palpable.

“Well, if you want it so much, why don’t you just come out and say it?” he challenged.

“No!” She replied indignantly.

He rolled his eyes, and she crossed her arms. Niles deflated a little. “Look, I know it may not seem like that to you, but I’m doing this as for you as much as I’m doing it for myself.” At her incredulous look he explained, “I don’t want you to feel trapped on this just because you are hurt and lonely right now. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. You deserve better, and even if I don’t, I want better.” C.C. pursed her lips to one side and looked at the blanket covering her legs as she slightly readjusted her position without uncrossing her upper limbs. “I’m not saying ‘no’ to you. I don’t think I could ever say no to you if I’m honest.” That earned him a pleased half smile from her, but still no eye contact. “But I think it’s better if we wait until you are out of the hospital and in a better mental and emotional state.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m not a sane person?” She teased.

“Gosh, no! You alone are responsible for at least half of Dr. Bort’s income. But I’m glad you are, you would never be with me otherwise.”

“We’re not together, tidy bowl. You just said it yourself.”

“Oh, but you want to be! Isn’t it what this whole conversation was about?”

Mature as ever, the blonde Babcock replied, “I thought it wasn’t clear enough for your old brain to get it.”

“I’m going to let you get me on this one only to show you how serious I am.”

“Whatever you say, old man.”

He ignored her comment once more with only a small smirk. “This is what I propose: we wait for you to be well enough to leave the hospital. You keep meeting with Dr. Bort and dealing with whatever you need to deal with, including Maxwell and any feelings you might have for him. And then, we can either ask Dr. Bort when she thinks you are ready for a relationship, or you can choose to say when you are absolutely and utterly positive that you are ready and that this is what you want. What do you say?”

She took a moment to weight her options, and finally looked at him again. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “But…”

“Now what, rubber maid?” the annoyance was back full force.

“If you choose to start a relationship with me… I’m going all in, and I expect the same from you. You and I are already insane enough for this world; there’s no room for anyone else. The universe couldn’t take it,” he explained. I couldn’t take it.

When she brought her eyes down and didn’t reply for a couple of moments, he lifted her chin with his index finger and thumb with such gentleness that she had to refrain herself from closing her eyes and melting into his touch. “Do you understand?” The ocean blue orbits under his eyebrows were pleading, and they were like a mirror of her own soul. “I do,” she replied full of conviction because she really did understand. She hadn’t before, but she did now. She had longed her whole life to be someone’s first choice. Niles was begging to be that for her, or to be left to lick his own wounds, as long as he wasn’t the one whose company she sought only as a last resource.

Chapter Text

A soft knock, knock, knock was heard inside Miss Babcock’s hospital room seconds before the door opened slowly.

“Hello, C.C.” said Maxwell with the gentlest eyes she had ever been in the receiving end of from him.

“What do you want, Maxwell?” was the blonde’s blunt and annoyed greeting.

“I‒”

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you again.” She interrupted crudely.

“You did‒”

“Then why are you here?” she interrupted demandingly. It was hard to believe that she was the one lying in a hospital bed, injured, and not yet strong enough to stand on her own.

He fought hard not to flinch at her insistent coldness and continued gently, “I want to apologize.”

“Well, that’s a first,” she said cynically.

“I know. That’s… part of what I’m apologizing for,” He confessed.

At that, C.C.’s demeanor softened a little. A heavy silence took over the room for a long minute. Her gaze was still fixed on him, but she conceded with an “Okay. But you better make it worth my time, Sheffield!”

The corners of the man’s mouth lifted at that. He might not know the woman as well as he thought, but he knew her well enough to realize that this was her already giving him a chance, if only to humiliate himself so she could have a laugh. Still… that was more than most people got. This was privilege coming from her. He sighed.

“Well, are you going to going to say something or try to bore me to death in hopes that I forgive you for being the biggest three-piece suited douchebag?”

He shook his head as if to clear his mind and regain all the courage he had gathered before driving to the hospital and walking to her door. “Right. Sorry.”

“Well, that’s the most pathetic excuse I’ve ever heard, and I work with sissy theater actors.” She teased smugly.

“No, that‒ that wasn’t my apology. I mean…! It was and apology and it was mine, but‒” He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. He knew she was giving him a hard time on purpose, and he knew he deserved it, he just, for the first time in his life, didn’t want to be a coward and take the easy way out. Again, he sighed. “I really am sorry, C.C.” he stated gently. “I’m sorry that you are in this situation; I’m sorry about the injuries this caused you and the scars it will leave. I truly am sorry, especially because it’s my fault. I‒ I may not have caused the fire, but I got your hopes up and then left you there alone, and on your birthday. I didn’t leave, I just didn’t even show up at all and… probably broke your heart in the process, and I’m sorry,” offered Maxwell with deep sorrow.

Miss Babcock’s response was harsh and cynical. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re sorry that your actions finally had consequences? Or that you’re sorry that those consequences finally affect your life?”

The Englishman’s eyes were wide, while his mouth was shut closed, and his mind went blank. Miss Babcock certainly knew how to leave everyone speechless (with few exceptions); she just hadn’t practiced that with her business partner as often as she should have, and it felt liberating to do it on purpose.

When the brown-eyed man finally regained his ability to speak, he mumbled a weak “C.C.‒”

“What, Maxwell? Are you going to tell me that I’m out of line here?” She pointedly raised her eyebrows in question as if daring him to agree. “You can’t be so stupid as to believe that this is the first time that you do something that has had negative consequences for someone other than yourself. Actually, you are that stupid and self-centered.”

His reaction was immediate and full of indignation. “I am not!”

“Oh, yeah? Then tell me, Maxwell, what exactly are you apologizing for?” She challenged in a fake sweet voice.

“For not realizing that you are someone’s daughter,” he said so calmly, it was almost solemn.

This C.C. hadn’t expected, and it took her off guard.

“What?” She asked with a hint of confusion.

“I would use all my resources to make sure any guy or man who did to either of my daughters the things that I have done to you would never see the day of light again. I’m so used to seeing you as the powerful businesswoman that you are that I never realized that you might seem invincible, but you are still someone’s little girl.”

“You know I’m not a little girl anymore,” defended C.C.

“Neither is Maggie, but she’s my daughter, so she will always be a little girl to me. A daughter is a precious thing, even when she’s not a little girl anymore. So, I’m apologizing for behaving like the kind of guy that I wouldn’t want anywhere near my girls.”

C.C. felt stunted. She tried and tried to find any hint of this being a joke or a dream. He had never been one to joke or poke fun at her, but this was Maxwell I’m-completely-unaware-of-anything-that-does-not-directly-affect-me-or-my-children-and-too-full-of-myself-to-realize-I’m-flawed Sheffield. The words just didn’t match his persona. The honesty didn’t match his persona. His apologies had never gone beyond “I’m sorry, C.C., I completely forgot.”

“Is this… some kind of medicine-induced hallucination?” Asked Miss Babcock awestruck. “Or maybe a Christmas miracle?”

“I assure you this has nothing to do with the holiday spirit, I just wanted to wait until you were… present enough to understand my apology, and lucid enough to respond as you’d like. Just‒ please don’t yell too much. I know I deserve it, but‒ it kind of scares me when you yell at me. Guess I understand how all those choreographers felt.” His voice turned sheepish towards the end.  “And Christmas isn’t for two more days,” he added for good measure.

The blonde didn’t know what to do or say. Granted, she had never before heard Maxwell Sheffield apologize with such honesty… or put her in the same line as one of his children, let alone with both of his girls. And, on top of that, she didn’t remember ever being considered someone’s little girl since she was maybe ten years old. Her relationship with her father had never been that great (or maybe it just had never really been there at all). She wasn’t easily surprised, but this had made it difficult to even breathe.

She must have taken quite a good time wrapped in those thoughts because she was brought back to the present by the man’s voice telling her, “It’s okay, C.C. You don’t have to answer me right now. I just wanted you to hear my apology. Take all the time that you need. Just, please think about it.”

Miss Babcock nodded absentmindedly at Maxwell. “Okay,” she said quietly.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Mister Sheffield in farewell, but turned back around before walking out of the door. “Oh! Before I forget…” He took something out of his suit jacket, took a few tentative steps towards the bed and extended the hand holding the small object towards her. “Here’s the new cellphone you asked for. Noel’s number has already been saved and I sent him your new number. I told him I’d let him know once you had the phone so he could call you, so I’m just going to go and do that right now.”

C.C. took the device and held it in her hands as she processed her thoughts.

Later that day, Niles stopped by the hospital for a quick visit. He had apologized for the short amount of time he would be able to spend with her that day since the Christmas preparations demanded his attention.

“Maxwell dropped by for a short talk today,” offered Miss Babcock the moment Niles had seated himself on the plastic chair.

Niles raised his eyebrows at her in amusement. “He did mention he would, but I didn’t believe he’d have the guts to actually show his face in front of you, let alone talk. So? What did he say?” The yenta in him just had to know.

“He… apologized,” said C.C. still unable able to process it.

“And you’re sure it was him?!” was the butler’s exaggerated response. “Didn’t you ask him all the security questions? Maybe he was kidnapped and switched for a lookalike to steal the company’s secrets!”

C.C. gave him her signature groan accompanied with an amused smile. “Yeah, sure, because Maxwell wouldn’t tell someone all of his business secrets if they did so much as ask,” she said full of sarcasm.

“True,” conceded the blue-eyed man with a chuckle. “So, he apologized, huh?”

“Yeah… but I didn’t make it easy for him,” admitted the producer proudly.

Niles chuckled at that. “Of course you didn’t. You didn’t earn your Broadway nickname by being nice and easy to deal with.”

“It’s Broadway, Niles! You have to be tough, or people won’t respect you!” She exclaimed defensively before adding in a mumble, “Just look at Maxwell if you think I’m wrong.”

“Oooh, now I really want to hear what he said if his apology has you so anxious that you keep delaying telling me.” C.C. feigned ignorance and a bit of indignation, but the Englishman fixed her with a knowing gaze. He was fully aware of what she was trying to do, and she knew it.

She rolled her eyes at him in reluctant defeat and said, “He said‒ he said that he would use everything he has to make sure that any guy who did to his daughters the things he has done to me would never see the light of day again, and that he was sorry for not realizing that I’m someone’s daughter too.” The whole time, her eyes were glued to the blanket covering her lower body. “He even said he didn’t need an answer right away and to take my time to think about it, and argh! I can’t believe him! It’s like he finally sees me like more than just his secretary, and it’s only to see me as a little girl‒ he compared me to his daughters for crying out loud! And he sounded so sincere… Maxwell has never talked to me like that before! I hate him! And I hate that that made me feel seen… and valued… and it took for all this to happen for him to finally see me…” She closed her eyes and took a couple of steadying breaths. “He called me someone’s little girl, Niles,” She added just above a whisper. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that to my own father…” At that, Niles stood up next to the bed and tenderly hugged her to his side, to which she responded by leaning her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

Niles got the sense that she was not only referring to Maxwell, but to her father as well. Instead of voicing his thoughts, though, he leaned his own head against hers and allowed her to vent as many emotions as she could at the moment while he also mused about the impact his own words had had on Maxwell for him to apologize like that to C.C. He was resentful at his boss, but he also found that there was yet hope for him to learn and change, and that he could be of much more help and influence that he had ever thought.

Chapter Text

Dinnertime didn’t arrive fast enough for the blue-eyed butler. The clock ticked painfully slow, and every hour stretched into days. The Sheffield’s and Miss Fine had decided to sleep in that morning and have a late breakfast before heading out together. He was thankful for the late start of the day and the reduced work, however, not being with her was driving him crazy! He needed something to occupy his mind with or he would go insane.

He was pretty much done with everything he could do at the moment, including putting the turkey in the oven. The cheesecake had been chilling in the fridge since the night before and the cranberry sauce was cooling down on the counter. All before lunch. He just couldn’t slow down!

He had decided to start making lunch to kill some more time. He knew the family probably would not want anything too heavy after a late breakfast and before the Christmas feast he was preparing for them (except Miss Fine, of course), but he figured it was always good to have leftovers at this time of year to rid himself of some future work. Plus, it gave the Sheffield’s something to easily re-heat while he stayed at the hospital with Miss Babcock.

C.C.’s burns were particularly painful and itchy that day. Her back felt especially irritated and no matter how she positioned her body, she was just never comfortable. The pain had become a constant for her, even unconscious, she had been aware of the pain (though it had been dulled by all the meds they gave her). That morning, however, the aching came into the picture as the main subject instead of an element that, though important, existed only in the background.

She had been very hungry (as she constantly was now), yet the pain seemed to be twisting her stomach into complicated knots, not allowing her to enjoy the not so impressive hospital food. She wished she could go to sleep and wake up only after dinnertime, when the witty butler had promised he would visit. But of course, sleep was also eluding her. Not because she wasn’t tired enough, (God knew how tired she was) no, it had more to do with how sore every muscle in her body and every inch of her skin were. Her right leg only aided in her affliction by further limiting her movement.

Could it be that her physical agony was reflecting of her mental state? Was that even possible? Anxiousness was eating at her. Niles had promised to be there, and he wasn’t usually one to break his promises, but he was still the Sheffield’s employee, and one just could never be sure with them. They always had some important matter that just couldn’t wait. They always found a way to rope him, especially when the Fines were involved.

Even if worse came to worst, it wouldn’t be the first disappointment she had ever experienced, not on a regular day and certainly not on Christmas, but she didn’t think she could survive this one. Not after everything that had happened… not with Niles. She was strong‒ she had always been strong. But she felt like she had already been strong for far too long and her heart just couldn’t resist any more damage.

Only about an hour had gone by since she had breakfast, her mind reminded her; there was no reason to start panicking so early. She still had the whole day ahead of her. Not very comforting at all, she thought. What’s the point of Christmas if you spend it alone and miserable?

She was still lost in her own misery when she heard a knock on the other side of the door, but before she could tell the person to come in or go away, a head with big dark brown hair peeked into the room from the door that was now slightly open. “Hi, Miss Babcock!” said the cheerful and nasal voice. “Can we come in?”

“We?” asked the confused blonde.

“Yeah! The whole family’s here!” exclaimed Fran happily. “Well, except Niles. But he’s preparing the food for later, so better not to disturb him.”

Miss Babcock chuckled before adding, “Sure, come on in.” As the three Sheffield kids made their way in front of the bed, a question popped into her mind. “Do the doctors and nurses know about this?”

“Yes, actually… I talked to them yesterday right before I left and asked if you could maybe have a bigger than usual visit to cheer you up on Christmas eve, and they said it was okay so long as we all wore face masks and gloves the entire time to keep the risk of another infection as low as possible. They thought it would do you good to have a family visit,” explained Mister Sheffield.

“We know we’re not your family, Miss Babcock, but they’re not here and we didn’t want you to spend the day alone while Niles prepares dinner for us at home. So, we brought you flowers and a few presents,” announced little Gracie.

C.C. felt touched. She also felt at a loss. She didn’t know how to react. She wanted this, of course. But she also knew she had never done anything to deserve such affection from the children. She had tried to convince Maxwell to send them away on several occasion so she could make a move on him without any distractions.

“I hope you like lilies, Miss Babcock. Stargazers are my favourite, so I picked these ones for you,” offered Maggie while presenting her father’s business partner with the beautiful and fresh-looking bouquet of pink and white flowers.

Grace spoke once again with that bright smile of hers, “And a couple of boxes of chocolate, cause according to Fran, ‘no matter how sad you are, everything’s sweeter with Godiva.’”

“It’s been proven by scientists, you know?” Interjected Fran in a very matter-of-factly way. Everyone just rolled their eyes with a smile without saying anything to the nanny.

“We also smuggled some cheesecake inside this gift box because Niles said it was your favourite. He made it, of course, so you don’t have to worry about getting food poisoning from Fran’s cooking,” said Brighton, speaking for the first time since they entered the room.

“Thanks, Brighton!” whined Fran sarcastically. “Now, before we dig into that (cause I really wanna dig into that), we have another present for you!” She announced happily as she handed the blonde a box wrapped in festive, red wrapping paper. The moment the gift was passed onto C.C.’s hands, the loud nanny rushed her with a “Come on, Miss Babcock, open it. I promise it won’t bite.”

The socialite woman screwed her eyes closed in frustration. “Oh, nanny Fine, please tell me it’s not another dog…! Or even worse, a cat for Chester to fight with.”

Maxwell had the decency to blush in embarrassment and sheepishly look downward.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” When Miss Babcock glared at her, Fran added, “I promise it’s nothing alive.”

C.C. still looked at her suspiciously but carefully removed the bow from the top and set it aside, then ripped the paper before opening the cardboard box. Inside she found… a hat. A cream coloured, furry, bucket hat.

“The doctor said you might get cold after… well, you know. So, we thought ‘hey, let’s buy her a hat!” Explained the bubbly nanny.

“You like it?” asked an equally enthusiastic Maggie. “Fran let me pick it for you!”

C.C. didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t being emotional, she just had now idea how to respond. The family had gotten her beautiful flowers, chocolate, and a hat. It wasn’t a ridiculous hat by any means. It was actually quite lovely and soft. But it was still a strange gift, wasn’t it?

Niles knocked on the already open door as only the upper half of his body peeked inside the hospital chamber. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you all over the city. I even made a wanted flyer for you!” He fully entered through the door this time but didn’t make to move any further.

C.C. tried to look annoyed, but it was essentially impossible to hide the smile that now adorned her fair face. “What are you talking about, Rochester? Has the last of your screws come loose?”

“I was just worried! There have been no sightings of a hairy green woman dressed in a Santa Claus suit stealing anybody’s Christmas this year!” he explained as if it was the most alarming news he had ever gotten. “I thought you might’ve grown an actual human heart. I was frightened!”

When she only rolled her eyes at him with the tiniest of smiles still plastered on her face, he became serious as true worry crept up on him. Only then did he notice the dark circles under her eyes and the slight pallor of her face. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, he made his way to the chair that stood to the side of her bed and gently asked, “How are you doing, Babs?”

“I’ve been better,” she replied sounding tired. But upon seeing the tender concern in his eyes, her expression softened almost imperceptibly, and she added, “but I’ve also been worse.” He responded by grabbing her hand, and she noted the wrapped box he was holding in his other hand for the first time. “What you got there, butler boy?” she nodded to the package.

He followed her gaze towards the object resting on his thigh. “Right! This arrived for you at the mansion.” The male maid handed the not so light object to the other blonde. “It’s from your father.”

She frowned as she accepted the box and opened it with a mixture of care and hurry. Inside it, she found a slightly smaller box wrapped in golden gift paper. As she tore the wrapping, her jaw dropped, and her eyebrows arched above her eyes. The white and gold, diamond-shaped, thin metal box C.C. recognized from the trip to France she took with her father and siblings so many years ago.

“I can’t believe he remembers,” she whispered in awe as she traced the letters with her fingers.

Miss Babcock seemed so enthralled by her father’s present that Niles felt like an intruder. He made no sound and did not move. He did not want to take her out of her trance before she was ready to. She so seldom had any kind of meaningful interaction with anyone from her family that the sole idea of saying anything or even making to leave felt inconsiderate. So, he waited‒ he waited patiently and in silence.

He noticed that she hadn’t finished unwrapping the box. Only the middle portion of it was uncovered, but it was all C.C. needed to know what it was. Niles, however, hadn’t the slightest clue.

After long minutes, the blonde producer took a deep breath and set to tear the rest of the wrapping. Inside, taped to one corner of the diamond, was a small note. She grabbed it with her fingers and a small frown appeared on her face. She was breathing rapidly, and many emotions ran through her features. Niles searched her eyes and found tears welling in them. His hand immediately went to her free one and gave it a squeeze. She looked at him and the tears began to fall, leaving a wet trail on the soft skin of her cheeks.

She showed him the message written on the small card. Calissons for my Kitten, he read. He might not understand the whole meaning it held for her, but he could see how much it was affecting her and wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms and take all of her pain away so that only the positive emotions and memories remained, but not only was that impossible, it would also cross a line of intimacy that he didn’t think he could step back from once he did. They had made a deal, and he wanted to honour that. For his own safety and for hers as well. Instead, he squeezed her hand a little harder.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

She turned the box in her hands so that he could see its front. “Do you know what these are?”

“French sweets?” he replied, not fully understanding.

“Yeah. But do you know what the name means?”

He shook his head no.

She took a deep breath. “For my tenth birthday daddy decided to take Noel, D.D., and I to France to celebrate. Since it was the last days of November, D.D. begged daddy to take us skiing to the French Alps. But we still had to wait for two more days after my birthday before they opened the resort, so daddy did something very unlike himself and asked me how I wanted to spend those days. I saw a flyer somewhere about this little town in Provence where they made these little treats called Calissons. The publicity described them as “little hugs”. The Babcocks have never been great huggers, as you might have noticed.” C.C. raised her gaze for the first time since starting her story and found Niles making a sarcastic expression that said “Reaaally?” The corners of her mouth rose millimetrically, and her eyes travelled back down to her hands. I wasn’t very happy even back then. I rarely saw my parents, and they never really touched me when I did. I loved my siblings, but D.D. always acted like whatever I was interested in was stupid and childish. Maybe because she is older. I used to follow her around all the time, but she just never had time for me. And Noel, he was my hero, but he was the embodiment of the perfect son. He would teach me things and keep an eye on me‒ he always made me feel protected. But our relationship has always been based on little games and competition; there was never room for emotion. So… it had caught my attention when I read about this town that was famous for selling hugs. My sister complained, of course, but my father and Noel told her that, as the birthday girl, I should decide how to spend my day. Plus, we could go skiing the whole weekend if we so desired.

“Since I was so curios about these little treats, daddy decided to take us to the musee du Calisson so that I could learn all there was to know about them. They showed us the whole process, but what intrigued the most was their history. They said that King René had them made for his wedding with Jeanne de Laval. They said she was a beautiful girl that never smiled. So, he commissioned his confectioner to make a treat that would finally make her smile. And, when she tried them, she did. ‘Di calin soun’, she told them. It means, ‘this are little hugs’ in Provencal.

“As a ten-year-old, I was amazed that something could taste so delicious to feel like a hug. As a Babcock, on the other hand, I was too cynical to believe that they could make me smile. At the end of the tour, my father bought a box for each of us. I immediately opened mine and took a bite out of one. It really was delicious, but instead of smiling, I frowned. I remember daddy asking, ‘So? Do they really taste like a hug, kitten?’ I replied, ‘I don’t think I remember what they feel like.’ So, he hugged me.” She had to pause for a moment to stop her voice from breaking and the tears that were making her sight blurry from falling. Niles hadn’t let go of her hand during the entire story, but listened intently, trying to memorize every detail. “That’s the last birthday he ever spent with me,” she added with a sad smile. “We, of course, have never mentioned it, but anytime I go to France‒ which isn’t often, because you know I rarely ever travel without… the Sheffield’s anymore‒ I buy a couple of boxes of these; one for the trip and one to take home.”

“So, the note…?” Niles had a pretty good idea why the tiny card had made her so upset, but he wanted Miss Babcock to say it out loud so she could express herself and deal with her emotions.

“It means he’s sending hugs… or cuddles, or whatever! But why does he have to send them in a tin box of French pastries?! They don’t sell these here! Which means he either had to send someone to get them for him or he went there to buy them himself. Why couldn’t he just come here and…!” her voice dropped down to a mumble. “…see me?” The last couple of words were but a whisper coming from her broken heart.

She had managed to hold back the tears all through her story, but they returned with even more force, and she was already exhausted from the intense pain she had been dealing with the whole day. So, she let go of them and allowed them to flow once more. This time, with no resistance. And, after only a moment of hesitation, her trusted Niles was already beside her, sitting on the bed, and pressing her to his side, allowing her to rest her head on his muscular shoulder.

After an hour of crying non-stop, she had no more tears to cry. She was absolutely worn down. She could feel how swollen her eyes were even if she couldn’t see them. Her nose was beginning to clear but was still stuffy enough not to let her breath freely. She felt like a complete disaster, yet the most comfortable she had ever been. She felt comforted. How long had it been since someone had allowed her to cry while they just held her? Had it ever even happened before?

Her eyelids began to droop as her breathing evened out. Too spent to fight sleep, she started to drift. Her bliss was interrupted when she felt the cozy butler stir next to her and quietly say, “I should go so you can sleep.”

“Wait,” she mumbled while gripping his hand as if her life depended on it. He froze and directed his eyes to hers. “Would you stay with me?” There was a bit of hesitation in her voice. “Just until I fall asleep,” She added quickly.

The plead in her eyes and the vulnerability in the way her voice sounded barely above a whisper broke his heart. “Of course,” he answered. He sat back in the plastic chair and held her delicate hand in between both of his. A comfortable silence settled between them, and C.C. Babcock fell asleep contentedly, feeling safe and loved.

Chapter Text

The next day, C.C. woke up to the sound of muffled snores and a warm, calloused hand holding her own. When she opened her eyes to look for the source of such warmth and noise, she found Niles still sitting on the chair. His head was resting sideways on the bed towards her and the arm that remained loosely holding her own was curled around his face.

He never left, she thought. A warmth started building in the back of her eyes and a tingling sensation formed in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t imagine he could be comfortable in his current position, yet he looked… peaceful. His content and unguarded face was the most beautiful thing she had ever woken up to, and she wished she would never have to wake up without it.

Try as she might she just couldn’t resist running her fingers through his sandy hair‒ it just looked enticing‒ so she did. She knew it would be smooth but was surprised at how soft and silky it really was. She had felt it with her palms before‒ during that faithful kiss in the middle of the Sheffield living room‒ but combing it with her fingers was a whole new experience‒ a superior experience.

He stirred after a couple of moments and snuggled into her hand before cracking his eyes open and smiling at her.

“You didn’t leave,” she said still full of awe. Her voice was soft and low from having just woken up.

Niles pulled himself upright and replied, “I never said I would.” And she got the sense that they were talking about more than staying with her at the hospital on Christmas night. He squeezed her hand before stretching his arms above his head and twisting his back until a series of loud ‘pops’ were heard, and his face was filled with relief. “That reminds me…” he put his hand inside the pocket of his pants and took out a small rectangular box. “I never got to give you your present last night,” he stated as he presented the small item to C.C.

She couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. “Oh, Niles, are you going soft with your old age?” She asked smugly.

“Well, you don’t know what it is yet. Would a venomous spider be a soft gift to you?” He countered with mock seriousness.

“Please… if your saliva didn’t kill me, I don’t think a spider will.”

“You would have to be alive in order to kill you, Babcock. Just look at yourself! Not even the fire was enough to get rid of you.” He offered a grin that was laced with pride.

C.C. just rolled her eyes and shook her head at him unable to vanish her own smile. She then proceeded to open the simple black box the butler had given her. Inside, she found a golden locket in the shape of a heart with rounded edges. She noticed that it had a single heartbeat line engraved on the outside, while the rest of its surface was smooth and very shinny. Upon opening it however, her breath caught in her throat.

“How did you‒” she chocked. Inside the locket, on the right compartment was a photograph of her beloved grandmother.

“You, uh… asked if I was your grandmama during one of your hallucinations. You had been mumbling some unintelligible things for a couple of days after your heart… you know. Miss Fine and I hoped it meant you were waking up, but then you started full-on hallucinating. I was here the first time it happened. When you looked at me, your eyes were focused for the first time in days, but it wasn’t me you were seeing. You asked if I was your grandmama. I was taken aback by the question, so I was silent for a moment. You looked… confused and… disappointed by the lack of answer, so I said yes. Your whole demeanor changed at that.” One side of his mouth curled up at the memory. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as openly and genuinely happy as you were in that moment. You exclaimed how much you’d missed me‒ well your grandmama‒ and how much you loved m‒ her. You fell asleep immediately after, looking peaceful and… happy. None of the other episodes had you feeling like that, not even the good ones, so I figured she ought to be very special to you.

“After Noel got in contact and asked to be kept updated about your condition, I called him and asked if he could get me a picture of her. He, of course, asked what I needed it for, so I said it was for you. He didn’t ask many questions after that. I took that as confirmation for my previous suspicions. It took him a few days, but he mailed me a couple of photos that could work, so I just chose the one that fit the best inside the locket.”

“Oh Niles, it’s beautiful!”

She could see in his eyes that he was ready to blurt something cheesy like “Not as beautiful as you,” but caught himself at the last moment. Not because he wasn’t a hopeless romantic, but because it was enough of a struggle as it was to refrain themselves from jumping into each other’s arms and pouring their feelings into a heated kiss. So, instead, he told her, “Yes, well, of course Niles is beautiful, but what do you think about the locket?” like she had just stated the obvious.

She glared at him annoyed, and he answered with a boyish smile. Her face softened after a beat and a small smile illuminated her face. She knew what he was doing; he was protecting them both.

When it was time for C.C.’s breakfast, a nurse arrived pushing a food cart inside the room. “Good morning, Miss Babcock,” she said upon entering. “And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” the two blondes replied in unison.

“Ready for your meal?”

“Sure,” sighed C.C. She was ready for a meal alright, but she was getting tired of hospital food. She missed outside food, restaurant quality meals. But most of all, she missed Niles’ cooking.

After the nurse rolled the table over the bed and carefully placed the tray containing her food in front of her, she went back to the cart and retrieved a package that was about the size of the tray. “A messenger brought this for you,” the nurse stated.

The Broadway producer accepted the packet with a frown and thanked the lady. She was a very kind nurse that was just enthusiastic enough to lift someone’s spirits without becoming irritating, and C.C. liked her for it.

If receiving the box had puzzled Miss Babcock, reading the sender’s name had her unnerved. “It’s from my mother.” She threw a confused look at Niles who was looking just as suspicious as she felt. She decided to get it over with and tore the tapes that kept the box closed. Another tin of expensive pastries materialized in her right hand when she tilted the freshly open package to the side. It took her a moment, but she recognized them as D.D.’s favourite treats from Czechoslovakia (now Czech Republic). Her mother knew her sister better than she knew her; what a surprise.

“Is there a sentimental story behind these?” asked Niles with empathy.

“They’re D.D.’s favourite, so I highly doubt it. They’re just very expensive. Much more expensive than Calissons.” Her tone was dry.

“Are they any good?” trying to look at the bright side.

Her eyebrows knit very tightly together at his question. She opened her mouth to say something but immediately closed it. After a moment of deep thinking, she said, “I don’t know. I can’t remember ever trying them.” So, she opened the box at grabbed one with her fingers. The rolling table was still in front of her, so she didn’t need to worry about getting crumbs all over the bed.

Niles had been eyeing the box distrustfully from the moment it came out of the cardboard package and chose that moment to reach for the tin and inspect it. She raised the treat to her mouth and was about to take a bite when Niles stopped her with an alarmed, “Wait!”

C.C. pulled the sweet away from her mouth and looked at him slightly startled.

“There’s apricot in them! It’s probably why you’ve never had them before; because you’re allergic to it.” It wasn’t a question. Niles had been reading the ingredients listed on the box because he knew what she was allergic to. Did her mother? Had she not bothered to read what they were filled with? Or did she really not know something as basic and fundamental as her own child’s allergies?

She felt Niles gently taking the pastry from her hands and putting it back in the box.

Almost two hours after C.C. had her lunch delivered by the nurse from that morning, and the socialite had shared with the butler a couple of the chocolates the Sheffield’s had gotten her the day before, a cellphone rang. It was Miss Babcock’s. She looked at the screen and said to Niles, “It’s Noel,” in an apologetic tone. She loved her brother but didn’t want to cut her time with Niles short. She was just enjoying his company way too much. “Take it. I’ll go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat,” assured her Niles and stood up.

She pressed the “call” button on the device to connect the call and pressed the phone to her ear. It was only then that she realized that he hadn’t had a proper meal since the night before (she hoped). She had eaten breakfast, but he had only eaten one of the pastries B.B. had sent, and it was mainly to assure her that she wasn’t missing on anything by not being able to eat them. Then she had had lunch. He had heard her complain about the insipid hospital food the whole time, and even bantered with her. He had eaten two chocolates, of course, but that wasn’t close to what he needed to have a proper amount of energy. And yet, he had stayed with her without a single (real) complaint.

She mouthed a “Thank you” when he turned around to close the door from the hallway.

“C.C.? Are you there?” she heard Noel on the other side of the line.

“Yeah. Sorry,” she answered a bit distractedly.

“Everything okay with the butler?” He asked teasingly.

“It’s Niles; nothing’s ever been okay with him.”

“Just perfect for you, then!”

The younger Babcock groaned at her brother. “I hope you didn’t just call to ask about Maxwell’s butler, Noel.”

“Actually, I called to wish you a merry Christmas, but I bet you were already having fun before my call.” He said mockingly.

“Is getting D.D.’s favourite pastries as a Christmas present from mommy your definition of fun?”

 “The one’s filled with apricots and cream cheese?” He sounded alarmed at the implication.

“Yup.”

“But you’re allergic!” He exclaimed. C.C. could hear a worry in his voice that she doesn’t remember having heard from him ever before. “You didn’t eat them, did you?”

“Niles stopped me before I did.”

“He did?” Had her life not been in danger, Noel would’ve teased C.C. endlessly, she knew.

“Yeah. He asked if they were any good when I told him they were D.D.’s favourite and I told him I didn’t know. I grabbed one to have a taste, but I guess he got suspicious and grabbed the box to read the ingredients, and I guess he has to know what I’m allergic to because he prepares the food at the Sheffield’s and I eat there almost every day, so he stopped me before I took a bite.”

She could hear Noel sigh. “I knew mommy was going to send a present when she found out that daddy had sent you something from France, but I just thought it would be something expensive and flashy to top whatever he got you.”

“Mhh,” she mumbled. “Does she even know that I’m allergic?”

“I highly doubt it.” He sighed, “But D.D. does…”

“How do you know?”

“The real reason why she loves those pastries so much is because you can’t eat them. You used to follow her around everywhere she went and always wanted to do whatever she did. That included food, of course. That infuriated her. So, that year when mom took us to ­­­­­­­­­­­Czechoslovakia, she found those and had mom buy her five boxes. She said she loved them because you couldn’t have them, or you’d die.”

They were both silent for a long time. C.C. broke the silence with a mumbled, “I don’t remember any of that.”

“You were only six,” replied Noel in a solemn tone. A dark silence filled the call. Noel gave her a moment before saying anything else. “C.C.?” He asked after a long while. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just… wow…”

“I know…”

“How did she even find out about daddy’s present?” She questioned with irritation.

Noel offered the Babcock signature groan. “I’m convinced that she’s had daddy bugged for years now.”

A terrible thought crept into Miss Babcock’s mind. “Do you think she’s been keeping tabs on all of us?”

A sigh left his mouth for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “It truly wouldn’t surprise me at this point.”

A feeling of dread filled C.C.’s heart. What if her mother had been spying on her? Would that mean that she knew about the fire from the very beginning and just didn’t care one bit? What would happen if she found out about Niles? Would she do something to him? Would he be in danger? What if she already knew about their feelings for each other and their agreement to wait until she was out of the hospital and wanted to prevent that from ever happening, thus sending the pastries in hopes she would eat them and‒ her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden pain in her head. She heard her brother once again asking if she was still there, but she found herself unable to answer. Her body began to shake uncontrollably, and panic took over.

When Niles got back to Miss Babcock’s room, he found her violently convulsing on the bed. He rushed to her side, took a calming breath, and put her on the recovery position. He then proceeded to call the nurse’s station via the button. “It’s okay, C.C. You’re going to be just fine. I am right here with you; there’s no reason to be afraid. You’re safe. I’m right here,” he repeated in a gently voice while he waited for the episode to pass. A nurse arrived while he was at it, but all his focus was on C.C.

After what felt like forever, she began to visibly relax. Once the thrashing subsided, the socialite was left looking worn out. “You’re okay now.” Assured Niles and gave a gentle squeeze to her limp hand.

He became aware of the nurse writing something on Miss Babcock’s clipboard and knew she must be recording the seizure. She put the clipboard back in its place and smiled at Niles. He heard her command him for his performance on the situation when he became aware of a tiny voice screaming from the floor. He looked down to find a cellphone there. He picked it up and realize that Noel’s call was still active. He heard the Babcock brother frantically calling the woman’s name before even putting the device anywhere near his ear.

“Noel?” He said into the receiver.

“Niles? Is C.C. alright? What happened? Is she okay?”

“She just had another seizure, but she’s fine now,” tried to reassure the butler. “I walked into the room while she was convulsing and made sure she was in the recovery position before I called the nurse. She’s just left the room.”

“Thank you, Niles. Thank you for taking care of her.”

“My pleasure,” he said while looking into C.C.’s tired eyes.

Chapter Text

It was 6:24 when C.C. woke up the next morning.

Niles wasn’t there (not that she expected him to be). He had been with her since the night of Christmas eve and spent the entire day of Christmas with her. Or, at the very least, until she fell asleep after the seizure. She paused for a moment to make calculations. She must’ve slept about 15 hours, and nothing, not even the constant visits of the nurses had woken her up. The seizure had really done a number on her.

She carefully turned to the side to grab the glass of water resting on the bedside table, trying not to stretch her skin too much. She found there, resting against the cup, was a note with Niles’ handwriting. “Be back tomorrow morning after your bandages have been changed. Try not to scare anyone while I’m gone. ꟷNiles”

A chuckle escaped her before the memory of the past two days hit her. Oh, no… she thought. She knew her family. She knew all their drama and how messed up their dynamics and personalities were, but Niles… oh, Niles! If he wasn’t convinced that she was a lost cause before, he would be now. He would realize her family was too much to handle and she just wasn’t worth it and leave. Maybe she would be able to convince him that they could still be friends, so she wouldn’t lose him completely. He would be close to her even if he would never be completely hers.

Oh dear, that would be even worse… yet somehow easier. She let out a resigned breath.

“You want to talk about what happened yesterday?” asked the blue-eyed butler.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but you were right here when it happened, rubber maid,” she said grumpily. “Maybe you’re more senile than I thought.”

“Not when the seizure started.” Was the man’s serious answer.

She huffed out a breath. Her comment, more specifically her tone, would’ve made most people back down. It certainly would’ve made Maxwell quickly change the subject or simply shut up. Why did Niles have to make it so hard?

“Did Noel say something to upset you?” pressed Niles.

She tried to dismiss the subject with a wave of her hand. “It was just the usual Babcock drama, that’s all.” Not that it was a lie, but certainly a downplay.

“Ah, so he did say something.” The butler's eyes closed wearily.

“Of course he said something, Niles! We were on a call! You’re supposed to say things during phone calls! Otherwise, it’s just static!”

“But he upset you. That’s why you’re avoiding the subject,” he said knowingly.

She exploded at that. “It wasn’t Noel, okay?! It was my mother, and D.D., and their stupid death present!”

Niles could understand her rage. His own blood had boiled inside of him when he’d realized that her mother was careless enough to put her own daughter’s life in danger. C.C. might never have had a close relationship with the woman, but she was still her mother and she needed her. Yet, instead of offering her presence or any kind of support, she had sent a death trap for her, knowingly or not. That’s when the Englishman recognized it; it was shame that was plaguing the strong-headed blonde. Thats why she was acting so defensively.

“I’m sorry, Miss Babcock,” he uttered caringly and grabbed her hand.

“What do you have to be sorry for, butler boy?! You’re not the one with the messed-up family, and life, and body!” shouted C.C. on the verge of tears. “I am!” She added with enough fire to burn down the Empire State. “I’m the one with no friends to come see me at the hospital, with parents that won’t even bother picking up the phone to ask if I’m alive or dead, and a sister that wishes I was dead! I don’t have a good attitude! I don’t brighten up anyone’s day!” She spat. “And yet you’ve been nothing but wonderful to me the whole time I’ve been here.” Tears were now clouding her sight and her voice had never been thicker. “You’ve been kind, and funny, and… here. You look at me like you see me. And it makes me feel vulnerable, and that scares the life out of me.” A single tear fell from her eye, and it was impossible to stop the rest from following. “Even if you are crazy enough to like me the way I am, my family is just not worth it‒ I’m not worth what they’ll put you through. I’m not worth the pain they’re sure to cause you and me both. I’m not‒” She was full on sobbing and choking now, but Niles was immediately out of his chair and wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “She knew, Niles‒ D.D. knew all along…” she sobbed.

The blonde man responded by placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head, then resting his chin on it. It was both to allow her to cry all the tears she needed to let out without feeling completely exposed while also concealing the moisture currently fogging his own eyes.

C.C. has cried until she had no tears left to shed. She felt kind of empty and numb, while she also felt safe and warm.

Long minutes of complete silence from the two blondes, the Broadway producer shifted from between the Englishmans's arms. “I'm sorry,” she muttered.

“Sorry for what?” He questioned confused.

“For being so weak and dependent; I should be better than that. Usually am better than that.”

“What are you talking about? No weak person survives what you've been through! Just in the last month it was a fire, meningitis, and a heart attack. Not to mention Maxwell Sheffield and his stupidity…” When only one corner of her lips rose momentarily, he added, “Crying does not make you weak, Miss Babcock. In fact, eve the strongest people crumble to pieces if they don't let it out every now and then. And believe me when I say that you look stunning even when you're crying.”

“Pff!” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure…”

“I’m serious! I might not be that into the snot coming out of your nose…” He joked and she grimaced. “…but your eyes turn the brightest shade of blue when you do. The tip of your nose turns red, and your cheeks become a lovely shade of pink. And the best part is that the tears dampen those rosy cheeks so much that I get to use my thumbs to dry the soft skin of your beautiful face.” He emphasized his point by performing the very same movements he described in his speech. They were lost into each other’s gazes for a long moment before Niles continued. “As to being dependable… well, we all need other people. I, for example, need a certain bossy blonde with stormy blue eyes, witty mind, and dangerous curves.” He offered a flirty smile before he used a more playful tone to affirm, “but I also need the garbage man, so don’t get too cocky,” and sealed it with a wink.

C.C. wasn’t ready to believe all of Niles’ words, but if the small smile she was unable to vanish from her face, despite the roll of her eyes, was any indication, they had hit just the right spot.

Chapter Text

January had arrived, the rush of the Holidays was finally over, and winter had settled over New York city. Specialists and doctors were back to work at the hospital, and Miss Babcock was deemed ready for the new stages of her healing journey. First, the cast on her right leg would be removed to assess the healing of the skin graft and bone reconstruction, and to also clean the site. She would also begin the next stage of physiotherapy. And finally, she would begin psychotherapy sessions with Doctor Bort three times a week to help her deal with the physical changes caused by the fire, as well as the emotional trauma, and to help manage pain anxiety.

That day, when Fran waltzed into Miss Babcock’s hospital room with her usual effervescence and flare, she was more than taken aback by the blonde producer’s surprised excitement.

“Nanny Fine!” Her eyebrows were mere inches away from scratching the ceiling and her eyes shined like one of Maxwell’s silver statues right after Niles cleaned and polished them. One could have sworn the Yiddish woman was a childhood friend C.C. was only reuniting with after long years of no contact. “What are you doing here?!” She asked in a high-pitched voice.

“I’m here to have some girl time with you! God knows how much you need that after spending so much time with Niles,” she said cheerfully. The nanny frowned, “although he is great at that, too… Anyway! I brought you some chocolate,” she anounced.

Before the loud woman could open the box of assorted Godiva, the posh woman’s face turned sour, her eyes watery, and her voice anguished. “Does that mean Niles is not coming?”

When Fran saw the trembling lips of the cold-hearted C.C. Babcock, she went full nanny-mode on. “Of course he’s coming, Miss Babcock!” she spoke cheerfully yet comfortingly, as one would while trying to distract a little kid whose mom had to step aside for a moment. “I just thought you might want to have a few delightful pieces of chocolate before your physiotherapy session, that’s all!”

A loud gasp escaped Miss Babcock’s mouth. “We’re moving onto something new today!” she exclaimed surprised. “What if he’s not here for that? How am I going to do it without him? It was awful when he wasn’t next to me that first time! What if it hurts more and he’s not there to support me?” She sounded more like someone thinking out loud than the stoic Broadway producer that Fran was so used to. The Jewish woman knew the mood swings were still a normal symptom of… well, everything that the other woman had recently gone through, but she was far from used to them.

“Relaaax! He’ll be here on time to throw barbs and insults at you, or whatever it is he does to distract you while you work on you exercises!” The blonde’s facial expression morphed into what one would expect form a playful child with a secret. Her cheeks took a reddish-pink hue and a round of giggles escaped her mouth. “Miss Babcock!” exclaimed the nanny with a sly smile. “What’s got you so flustered?” The other woman’s giggles turned into loud cackles. “Ok… this is getting weird…”

“It’s just so funny,” responded C.C. as her loud howling turned into a low laugh.

The nanny frowned in confusion. “What is?”

“Niles.”

“What do you mean?”

“Niles, nanny Fine,” she repeated as if those two syllables contained all the information the other woman needed to understand what she meant. “What more explanation do you need? I mean, even the name is funny! But when you pair it with that face…” Miss Babcock groaned the distinctive low laugh that Fran had only ever heard her use when she engaged in her battles of wits with the butler. “…that fat, wrinkled face… with that pair of revolting eyes that have no business being so bright and piercing…” she trailed off, looking into the far wall with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

“Hmm… if I didn’t know any better, I would think you have a crush on Niles.” The woman had spoken without really thinking what she was saying, but the moment she took a look at her former nemesis, her eyes became wide with realization. “OH MY GOD!”

When the witty Englishman walked into the room later that day, he found C.C. fidgeting with her hands. He knitted his eyebrows together as he stood next to the door in observation. She still hadn’t noticed his presence there, which was strange on itself. What further confused him was the slight anguish etched on her face, the one she always masked with annoyance and a little bit of anger when noticed by someone else. It was the same expression she showed two years prior when her father had announced he was in the city and would like to have dinner with her. It was also a more concentrated version of the impatient wince she had gotten for the past three and a half years every time Mister Sheffield was delayed more than a few minutes to any kind of appointment with her. She was scared. Afraid of being disappointed and abandoned. The “whom is she expecting?” question rose in him, so he chose to break the silence instead.

“I thought all dogs had a keen hearing… I guess I was mistaken.”

Oh.

It wasn’t the startle but the relieved look in her face that answered his unvoiced question‒ It was him. She was expecting him. Which meant it was also him she was afraid would disappoint her by not showing up. But why would she even consider that? Haven’t I showed her that I’m not going anywhere unless she tells me to?

“Oh, can it, bell boy, I don’t have time for your very uncreative dog jokes.” There it was‒ the mask of annoyance.

“Why? Do you have someplace to be?” he asked smugly.

“Oh, shut up.” He knew she had meant to sound harsh but ended up sounding amused, which not only fed his ego, but also soothed his fears.

“I will if you tell me what you’re so nervous about,” offered the butler as he sat down close to her.

“How did you‒”

“Oh, come on, Babs… I’ve known you for almost twenty years now. Do you really think I come up with all my zingers by accident? They wouldn’t hit so close to home if I did, now, would they?”

A grunt left her mouth. “I hate you.”

He answered with a cocky lopsided smile. “Hate you more.”

That was enough to melt her just the tiniest bit, and the corners of her mouth lifted millimetrically. They sat in silence for a couple of beats before the butler heard her speak. “I’m kinda nervous,” she confessed.

“About…?”

“Physiotherapy,” she provided with a slight wince.

“Why?”

“Because I’m scared, Niles! I’m scared about how much it’ll hurt, yes, but mostly about how hard it’ll be to go back to my life! How am I ever going to be able to go back to being a Broadway producer when I look like this?!”

She was quickly interrupted by her favourite baritone voice. “Well, it’s never stopped you before.” He only meant it as a little distraction, but the woman was having none of it.

“I’m serious, Niles! I’m tired of being here, but how am I gonna do anything when I go home? I can’t even get out of bed on my own to go to the bathroom! I can’t change my own bandages; I can’t tie my shoes or change my clothes. I can’t even cook for myself!”

The butler offered the boyish smile she loved so much. “Well, you’ve never been able to cook, anyway.”

This time, the comment had the desired effect and a small smile formed on her lips. “True.”

“And still you’ve managed to survive.”

“That’s the other thing‒ I can pay people to do all that for me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m alone.” Voice shrinking at the end. “You’ll go back to the Sheffield’s once I can go home and what am I supposed to do then? What is my life going to be now?”

Niles had just opened his mouth to speak when a round of soft knocks interrupted their thoughts and made them turn their attention towards the door. It opened to reveal C.C.’s physiotherapist.

“Good afternoon, Miss Babcock, Mr. Niles.” he greeted. “Are you ready to get moving?” He asked C.C.

She gave him her signature groan and a cranky, “Whatever, let’s just get it over with.”

The doctor chuckled at that and set to work. They started with small, gentle movements to warm up the skin and muscles for what came next. Up to this point, physiotherapy had mostly consisted of the constant movement of her toes (especially from the broken leg), dangling her legs from the edge of the bed, and flexing the elbows. It had, however, become too easy for the restless businesswoman.

“I’m afraid it’s time for you to start moving the rest of your joints,” the physician had said.

“Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?” she questioned.

“It won’t exactly be comfortable at first.” Was his apologetic reply.

“And you think being glued to this bed day and night is comfortable?”

If the piercing screams of agony coming from her throat as the medic slowly bent her knee toward her chest were any indication, then yes‒ the discomfort of spending hours upon hours on the same bed was a picnic compared to the suffering of having her burnt skin stretched and folded, even if the movement didn’t look like much.

Miss Babcock’s shrieks tore through Niles’ heart. He had offered her his hand to hold for comfort at first, but it had since become a squeeze ball‒ he thought it even looked like one. Yet, the pain he felt inside was greater. The only thing keeping him from turning into a sobbing mess was knowing she needed him to be her anchor in that very moment.

He almost wanted to punch the doctor when he put her leg down only to grab the opposite leg and repeat the procedure all over again. He knew, intellectually, that it was for her own good, but the intensity of her bellows gave him pause. They might even make him so deaf that he would never have to listen to them ever again.

Her cries still crushed him when they moved onto her elbows and left shoulder, but either she wasn’t strong enough to keep on yelling in such a way, or the pain was just a little bit better. One way or the other, her face was crimson red from the effort and her eyes sunken and dark.

Her breath was ragged when the physiotherapist finally left. Her cheeks and chin were soaked in tears. Niles couldn’t restrain himself anymore, so he gently held the back of her head with his hand and pestered soft, comforting kisses on her forehead and on the top of her head until she fell asleep.

Chapter Text

The following morning, after Maggie, Gracie, and Brighton left the dinning room, Mister Sheffield folded his newspaper down and turned to the nanny.

“Miss Fine, would you mind giving us a moment, please? There’s something I want to discuss with Niles,” he asked politely.

“Of course,” replied the robed woman. “Take all the time you need.” She stood up from her chair and began walking towards the door. “…as long as you tell me later,” she whispered conspiratorially to the butler as she passed him by.

Once the two British men were left alone, the older of the two asked formally, “What did you want to talk to me about, sir?”

“I want your opinion on something, old man. It’s about C.C. You remember the doctor telling us about how she has a long recovery ahead of her and how she’s going to need lots of help and attention to get back on her feet… both literally and figuratively?”

Niles thought that sounded suspiciously specific coming from Maxwell. “Yes…?”

“Well, it’s no secret that she lives alone, and she could hire a nurse, of course… or a couple of them, but I’ve been giving this a quite a bit of thought and I think I might have a better solution. So… what do you say I offer her to stay here at the mansion? She can still hire any help she wants, but that way she never has to be alone. We can keep an eye on her, tend to her needs, and it’ll make it easier for her to go back to work once she’s ready.”

Even though the butler was glad to have his opinion taken into account on the matter, he couldn’t fully understand the reason behind his boss’s question, after all it was her decision to make, not his. “I’m sorry, sir, but why are you asking me this?”

“Well, it will affect you directly if she does indeed stay here. After all, you’re the butler. But… I’m mainly asking you because you know her better than I do. She has responded way better to you than she has with me, that’s for sure. You’ve always had a… unique relationship with each other, but you seem to have become closer ever since… you know… ever since she woke up,” explained Mister Sheffield being as diplomatic as ever.

Well, of course we’ve gotten closer; we’ve been complaining together about you for weeks now as she recovers from the injuries that she sustained because of you, you coward! “What makes you think we’ve become closer?” He asked instead.

“Well… you’ve been spending a lot of time together, you know? You already spend more time with her at the hospital than you spend here,” said the rich producer hesitantly. “Not that that’s a problem, of course!” He attempted to mend quickly. “But you seem to be… well, enjoying it.”

“May I remind you, Sir, that the reason why I started spending so much time in the hospital with Miss Babcock in the first place was because you were too afraid of her lashing out at you, and my I add, ashamed that your actions led to her being there?”

“I wasn’t afraid…” defended the younger Brit with indignation after a small moment of silence.

As always, the butler chose to retort to sarcasm. “Oh, so I guess you making sure that she was asleep before entering her room when you, me, and Miss Fine had to get vaccinated so we didn’t contract meningitis was you being concerned about her circadian rhythm?” His irritation barely contained.

“I don’t even know what that is,” groused an annoyed Maxwell.

“Precisely my point,” pointed out the butler.

“I genuinely don’t understand why you’re so worked up about this; I’m trying to do something nice for C.C. here and you are acting like I don’t understand that most of the blame belongs to me!” exclaimed Mister Sheffield in place of a defense.

“Do you?” countered Niles angrily. “Do you truly understand how guilty you are in this?”

“YES!”

Niles finally exploded at that. “Then stop acting like a scared child and face her!”

“I already did, remember!? I went there and I apologized to her!” Maxwell retorted.

Niles, now face to face to his boss, yelled back, “Then act like you mean it!”

“I’m trying!”

“Well, try harder!”

“HOW?!”

“BE A MAN AND ASK HER YOURSELF!” The blonde yelled before storming out.

The hunger C.C. felt when she woke up was proportional to the amount of pain she had been put through the day before during that blasted session of physical therapy. Just thinking about that torment made her shudder. It made her wonder if regaining her mobility was truly worth that kind of agony. She didn’t need to work, anyway. She already had the means to hire all the help that she needed and buy herself a good electric wheelchair to move around in. She could have nurses, and chauffeurs, and whatever staff she needed to get by. Truth was, however, that she wanted to get back to her life almost as much as she craved a good plate of steak and eggs (preferably prepared by Niles) right in this moment. Her stomach growled at the thought of food, but her heart clenched at the thought of her favourite Englishman.

I want to walk this life with Niles and be able to enjoy it…

She meant to tell him about Miss Fine figuring out that they had feelings for each other, or at least that she had some sort of crush on the butler, but she hadn’t had the energy to talk about it (or any other thing) after that. She hoped they could talk about it sooner rather than later, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t nervous about his reaction. Granted, it had taken the nosy woman long enough, but the blonde heiress thought she had been extremely discreet. Niles had implied that he wanted something very serious, but she wasn’t sure that he’d want everyone to know about their personal business, especially when they themselves didn’t know that a romantic relationship between them could actually happen.

One of the morning nurses was just picking up C.C.’s empty food tray when Niles dropped in.

Him, never one to interact with her in a normal manner, chose much more peculiar words to greet her. “How was your morning feeding, Miss Babcock? Was the grass green and fresh?”

Quickly and proudly, she responded. “Better than your breakfast, if that’s the best line you could think of.”

The butler gave her a smug smile. “Oh, but you never had any complaints about my cooking before.”

“The food was never the problem; it was the insufferable butler serving it that made it so bad,” she countered unmoved.

If anything, his expression only got cockier. “I take it you miss my cooking?”

“Anything is better than hospital food, lemon fresh,” she dismissed.

“Yes, but it’s not McDonald’s we’re discussing here, now, is it?” He interrogated knowingly.

“Fine! I admit it‒ I miss the food you make, okay?” She blurted out. “Are you happy now?”

His smile grew wider and warmer, and his voice lower and huskier. “More than I’ve ever been.”

She couldn’t help but blush at his words. They sent butterflies straight to her stomach. It was embarrassing. She cleared her throat after a moment, once she knew her voice had returned. “Nanny Fine was here yesterday,” she suddenly announced.

Amused by her reaction and unsure of where the conversation was going, he prompted her to go on. “…uhu…?”

“I think she knows,” she on the brink of panicking.

“Knows what?”

“About‒ that we‒ that I‒”

“Did she say something?” he tried to help with an entertained grin.

“Who, nanny Fine? Of course she said something! Have you met the woman?”

He chuckled. “Care to share what she said?”

One of her signature groans escaped her mouth. “She said that if she didn’t know better, she’d think I had a crush on you, then she looked at me and a loud ‘oh my God’ came out of her Jewish mouth.” When the man didn’t reply immediately, she uttered a panicked “Well?”

“Do you?” he questioned coyly.

Miss Babcock, on the other hand, wasn’t having any of that. “Niles! This is serious! What if she tells everyone?! God knows she doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut!”

“Well, I guess that depends on you.” This time his tone was serious but didn’t lose its warmth.

“On me? What do you mean it depends on me?!” Forget the edge, she had already jumped and dove straight into panicking.

With immense patience that might not reflect how he truly felt on the inside, Niles surveyed, “Well, are you ashamed of me? …of my station?”

C.C. was caught off guard and had to take a moment to think about her answer. “No,” she said, and was surprised by how true the statement was.

“Then, why is it so bad that she might figure it out?”

“I’m scared…”

“About word getting out?”

“About‒” she looked downward and close her eyes. “About you realizing that I’ll never be good enough and becoming the laughingstock of everyone in New York when she tells them that C.C. Babcock was rejected by every man including the butler.”

The typically humorous man tenderly lifted her chin with his strong finger and guided her gaze toward his striking blue eyes. “Look,” he said, “I can’t promise that we’ll ever work out together, but I assure you that even if we don’t, it’ll never be because you’re not worth it.” He paused for a moment to gage her reaction, and when her eyes remained uncertain, a playful expression coloured his face. “Twenty million is certainly a lot, you know?” At the roll of her eyes, he added meaningfully, “And they don’t even come close to what you’re worth.”

Tears had filled the woman’s icy blues, but it was obvious that she was making a great effort not to let them fall.

“To be honest,” Niles continued, “I don’t think it’s the right time for everyone else to know about us, either so I’ll have a word with Miss Fine and I’ll make her swear on brisket latkes that she won’t tell anyone about it, not even Val, until we’re ready to announce it ourselves. Good?”

She nodded in affirmation, and he gave both of her hands an affectionate squeeze. 

Chapter Text

“Miss Fine, may I have a word with you?” asked Niles upon entering the kitchen and finding the nanny munching on a piece of bread.

“Wow, so formal.” Fran tensed. “Did the people from Amex call to tell you how much I owe them?”

“No, Miss Fine, this isn’t about your spending habits‒”

“Is it my mother, then?” She wondered out loud, not really paying attention to what he was trying to say. “Nah! There’s nothing formal about her.” She waved her hand dismissively at herself. “Oh, I know! Is it about your little talk with Mister Sheffield this morning?” It was worded like a question, but it sounded much more like an affirmation coming from the woman. “He also sounded very formal, so it must’ve been interesting. Not to mention how loud you two became towards the end...”

In a louder and much more impatient voice, he called out, “Miss Fine...!”

“What?" She asked as if his impatience was completely unjustified.

“Would you just stop talking for a moment so that I can at least tell you what this is about?!” pleaded Niles as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Fran looked at her friend with big, puppy eyes and a pout. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled. He was usually much more patient with the woman he considered his friend, but this was a serious and important matter, and she just didn’t seem to get it. “Now, this is about Miss Babcock,” he began.

“Oh no! Did something else happen?” Of course she interrupted again.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” Thank God.

The nanny finally took a breath and listened to her friend. “What is it, then?”

Niles wasn’t exactly sure how to go about the conversation, so he chose the more cryptic. “Well, she mentioned you said something… interesting the other day towards the end of your visit.”

“Sweetie, you’re gonna have to be more specific here ‘cause I happen to be a very interesting conversation.”

“Let’s say there was some sort of… discovery on your part, about something that involves Miss Babcock and I…?”

The nanny’s eyes became like saucers as the realization of what Niles was referring to hit her. “You know about that?!” She squinted her eyes at him in suspicion and walked a little closer. “Wait a minute. You said it involves the both of you… Does that mean you two are involved with each other? Have you two been fooling around right under our noses?!”

“No, Miss Fine, we’re not fooling around. We’re not even involved, as you say.”

A knowing smile coloured the nanny’s features. “Ah, but you have feelings for each other, don’t you?”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk about‒ whatever we do or don’t feel for each other is our business, and we want to keep it that way.” She opened her mouth to protest, but the butler cut her off. “… at least until we decide what we are going to do about them.”

“What is there to decide?! You like her, she likes you… just get married already!”

“I’m afraid it’s much more complicated than that,” he lamented.

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking a page out of Mr. Sheffield’s book and running away from commitment,” said the loud woman as she rolled her eyes.

“Believe me, it’s not that.”

“Then what is so complicated about it?” Fran demanded.

The British man let out a heavy and resigned sigh. “I’ll tell you on one condition,” negotiated Niles with a raised finger to emphasize his words.

“Anything for you, scarecrow.”

“You don’t say a word about this to anyone until Miss Babcock and I are ready to announce it ourselves‒ if we ever are. Not Mister Sheffield, not the kids, and certainly not your mother.”

“Anyone?” She sounded like the sole condition her best friend was setting was far too difficult to honour.

“Not even Val,” maintained the British man.

The nosy nanny bit her nail as she considered her options. One could’ve sworn the decision was causing her physical pain by the expression on her face. “Oh, alright,” she finally conceded.

“Very well. As you know, things were very different here when Mrs. Sheffield was still with us. The kids had their mother, Mr. Sheffield had his wife, the house staff consisted of more than just… well, me. The only concern was attending Sheffield Productions’ play of the season. And even if they were never as good as Andrew Lloyd Webber’s, the business did well.

“You know how much I love the family, but being a butler was never exactly my dream come true. Miss Babcock was born rich, so she never had the need to work, but she started as Maxwell’s secretary out of her love for theater and doing business. She immediately showed everyone that she was meant for so much more than just being a secretary, but it wasn’t until Sara convinced him that Mister Sheffield promoted her.

“We were both distanced from our families. I because of physical distance and her because they suck. And they also live in different cities. Mrs. Sheffield loved us like we were part of the family and always included us in everything. It was a lovely thing to do, but it felt odd at times not knowing exactly what our place in the family was apart from being the employees. But Sara reminded us that Miss Babcock was also her best friend, and I was Maxwell’s oldest friend, so we were part of her family and not just names on the payroll.

“My point is that we had too many things in common with each other. We also worked together, in a way, and always ended up tagging along with the Sheffield’s.

“I don’t know exactly when the attraction started, but Sara noticed it too. Maxwell never understood our banter, but Mrs. Sheffield knew it was the only way we knew how to communicate since we came from such different worlds, even if I knew hers so well. But it was probably because I knew it that I was sure that I had no chance with her.” He chuckled. “That’s why I started the banter in the first place; because I didn’t think she would even spare a glance at me if I didn’t do something different to get her attention, so I threw the cleverest zinger I could think of at her. She was so mad I thought she would have my head for that, so I offered her a small smile to let her know I meant no real offense. She didn’t smile back, but when she voiced her comeback, I knew she was game.

“She comes from a broken and messed up family, so expressing her feelings or being in touch with them has never been one of her strong suits. But I knew she felt for me as I felt for her because of our games. We did go as far as confessing out loud that we had some sort of attraction for the other after much pushing from Sara. Nothing happened after that, but it felt like the beginning of something. Like taking the first step towards a path that might lead you to your dream land.

“But then Sara died and the whole house was sent into chaos. The kids lost their mother, whom they desperately needed, and Maxwell was in such grief that he simply shut down after the funeral. She was only one person, but she had been the life and soul of the family. She had been everyone’s home. Without her, we were left outside and unprotected. So, Miss Babcock and I chose to put our grief into stand by and everything in our power to keep the ruined remains of that home from collapsing. She took care of the business, and I took care of the family all while trying not to fall apart ourselves.

“However, she put such effort into bringing Mister Sheffield back to life and cheering him up that she ended up seeing him from a new light. He was no longer her best friend’s husband and her boss; he was now Maxwell Sheffield, widower, wealthy, educated man, and successful Broadway producer. And most of all, he was available. But it wasn’t about what she wanted or needed, no‒ it’s what her mother would deem worthy, what Miss Babcock was taught she deserved. He was the perfect husband candidate for a woman like her. He meant she could chase her professional dreams while keeping her mother happy at the same time. So, she started chasing after him.

“Our games stopped. She stopped answering to my zingers, so I made them harsher. I made sure they sliced. I wanted her to feel the pain she had caused me. I insulted her and I made fun of her. I denied her beauty in hopes that I would no longer be attracted to her. I made it my job to remind her how lonely and unhappy she was. It would either make her realize that she could be happy with me, or at the very least it would sink her in the same despair I was drowning in. In the end, it only made us miserable.

“As Maxwell got better, he also took advantage of her attention and devotion. He knew he could always count on her to do anything that he didn’t feel like doing because she would be willing to do anything for him. He also never had to make the effort to find a date for formal events because she was always available for him. Anything he didn’t depend on me to do he could depend on her. So, he fed her false hopes for years, and she fell for them.

“But then you appeared out of nowhere and waltzed into our lives like a hurricane with your colourful personality and shining nature. You nursed the family back into life, they became happy again, and suddenly Miss Babcock and I no longer had to carry them anymore. The weight lifted from our shoulders, we realized that we could now deal with our own pain. But it was so hard, because everyone else was no longer sad; they were happy and we were hurt, naked, and exhausted, and it started to feel like we no longer fit in with them. It felt too late to grieve and too early to celebrate. Their wounds closed and became faint scars that no longer hurt, while ours festered and bled open.

“We were bitter and broken, and for a little while we forgot that we didn’t actually hate each other.

“That day you and Mister Sheffield walked in on us kissing in the living room…” the side of his lip curled at the memory. “I had played a prank on her. I knew she was waiting for him, and I knew she was going to seduce him, so I made her think I was him and had her do something...” he laughed in delight “…outrageous. Because I wanted her to feel humiliated just like I did when she walked out on me to go chase him. But the tension was too strong and the longing for each other, disguised in hatred as it might have been, too powerful. We were helpless against it, and so we kissed. And it tasted like a home I had been sure had disappeared forever.”

The nanny, whose eyes had been shedding tears from the beginning of Niles’ retelling, spoke again. “Are you telling me that something’s been going on between you two ever since and I didn’t notice? I must be really losing my game,” she muttered surprised and somewhat concerned.

“No, Miss Fine, you’re not losing your game‒ we didn’t even acknowledge what happened that day until only a couple of weeks ago. Actually, we didn’t talk about any of this before.”

“What changed?”

“The fire,” he explained. “It truly changed everything. What happened made it impossible for Miss Babcock to keep ignoring Maxwell’s faults and flaws. He’s never going to love her that way, and she knows that. Not that she ever loved him that way, but it still complicates things. She feels betrayed and discarded, and understandably so, but I’m…” he cast his gaze down and his voice took on a sadder tone. “…afraid that her anger will pass, and she’ll run back to the chase and‒” he let out a shaky breath. “That’s why we agreed to wait until she’s out of the hospital and has a clearer understanding of what she wants. I suggested we ask for Dr. Bort’s opinion on the matter, maybe even wait for her to give us he green light before we make any sort of decision.”

“Oh scarecrow, that was a very wise thing to do, and I’m sure it mustn’t have been easy to make.” Miss Fine held her dear friend in a comforting embrace. “I can see that you really love her, and this is very important for you, so I promise I’m not gonna say anything until you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Miss Fine,” he said while resting his chin on her shoulder.

Fran pulled back enough to see the butler face to face, but her arms still held him. “I also want to say how sorry I am about‒ well, all of this, but especially for acting like Miss Babcock was less important than my problems‒ well than everything else. I see now that things are much more complicated in her life than I thought. I can’t say that I understand what you’re feeling, I just want to make sure you know that you can count on me for anything. I want to be here for you, for both of you.”

“Thank you. I truly appreciate it, Miss Fine.” As true as it was, Niles couldn’t completely forgive her just yet. Yes, she had been his best friend for the past three years, but she had been key in causing the predicament the woman he loved was currently in. He was still angry at her, hence the lack of patience, but it was nice seeing how much she had changed towards Miss Babcock. He could see her apology was sincere, and that healed him the tiniest bit.

Chapter Text

About two more weeks went by before Maxwell mustered the courage to talk to C.C. about the prospect of staying at the mansion. Two more weeks of discomfort; two more weeks of reliving the fire and all its painful consequences during her sessions with Dr. Bort; two more weeks of excruciatingly painful movements that were so basic that even a baby could do them without assistance‒ two more weeks of what was now the life of C.C. Babcock.

Her physician had given her a thorough examination that morning before her daily bandage change. “I have some good news for you, Miss Babcock. Everything seems to be healing quite well. The skin grafts are looking good, there’s no sign of infection, and even your right leg is appropriately healing,” he said holding an x-ray film.

“Aren’t broken bones supposed to heal in a month or two?” she questioned impatiently.

“It depends on the site and type of fracture. For simple fractures, yes, between four and eight weeks, depending on the bone. Yours is a compound fracture, however. Those usually take between four and six months to heal completely depending on the severity and age of the patient,” the doctor clarified.

“So… how long until I can walk?” she asked, cutting through the chase.

“Well… I would say 5 to 6 months for the bone to heal. But you’ll need months of more physical therapy to walk on your own. Your leg won’t be able to bear your full weight right away, not to mention the limited range of motion you have because of the rest of your injuries. So, it’ll be several months, maybe a year, before that.” C.C.’s head fell backwards against the pillow in defeat at the doctor’s words. “But don’t despair, you won’t be tied to a bed or even a wheelchair for that long, you’ll just need walking aids. A walker at first, and a cane later on. You’ll be up and moving in just a few months, I promise.”

Still somewhat disheartened, she nodded. “Thanks.”

“The good news,” he added cheerfully, “is that your condition has improved enough to move you out of the burn unit. So, a couple of nurses will get you to your new room tomorrow after breakfast.” He left after receiving a thankful nod from the blonde woman on the bed.

That had certainly cheered her up. It was the best thing to happen in the last month apart from Niles sneaking in food for her‒ food that he had cooked himself.

She was just thinking about what the butler would bring her for dinner that evening when she heard someone enter the room.

“Hello, C.C.” greeted the hesitant man.

“What are you doing here, Maxwell?” the woman asked less harshly than the day he apologized to her, but still in an unmistakably unfriendly manner.

“The doctor informed me that you’re being moved out of the burn unit and into a new room tomorrow.”

It was more of an attempt to break the ice than an explanation, C.C. knew, but she had no sympathy left for him, so she responded coldly and without a trace of understanding in her voice. “Yeah, that doesn't mean that I want to see you, let alone talk to you.”

His gaze travelled down to his shoes. “I know.”

“Then why are you still here?” Her words were sharp.

“Because I want your opinion on something,” Maxwell let out defeatedly but with the smallest hint of hope.

C.C. could feel a headache forming. “If you made a mess and think that I’m going to fix it for you, I swear‒”

“No, it’s not… it’s nothing like that,” he placated. “I wanted to offer‒ well, propose‒ no, that’s not‒ I’m asking for your opinion‒ gosh, this sounded easier in my head.”

C.C. rolled her eyes at him. “Always the eloquent one, you are.”

“What I’m trying to say…! I think you should stay with the family at the mansion once you’re released from the hospital. Well, not that you should, but it would be better‒ or at least I think it would be better for you, because you wouldn’t be alone, and we can help‒ and of course you can hire all the help that you want, though I think I should be the one to pay for that, but you can choose who you’re going to hire, because you’ll be the one they’re going to be working with. But I’m getting ahead of myself! I guess the point is… would you like that?” he lamely attempted to explain.

“Are you seriously asking me to move in with you, the one who got me into this mess in the first place? I just told you that I don’t want to look at you, what makes you think that I would want to live with you?!” She was appalled.

“Would you say yes if I were to stay out of your way?”

C.C. scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head. Her reaction was maybe two parts aggravation, one part disbelief, and one part yearning.

“Look, I know you’re mad at me‒” His hands rose in front of him, palms spread in sign of harmlessness.

“Oh, was I that obvious?” Her entire demeanor exuded sarcasm.

“‒and I deserve it,” he continued as if the interruption had never occurred.

“You’re right, you do,” she spat.

“You have every right to hate me, but it wouldn’t be fair for you to lose the rest of the family because of me. I’ve long stopped trying to understand your and Niles’ friendship, but I know it’s very important for both of you. And I know I’m practically paying him to keep you company while you’re here, but I know Niles and he’s not doing it to avoid working, or even for the money, but because he cares about you. And it might sound very hard to believe right now, but I also care about you, C.C. He’s always cared about you, and so have I.

“We used to be so close before‒ before Sara’s accident. My gosh, she kept trying to convince me that you two had feelings for each other! I really don’t know where she got that idea from, but you can’t deny that we were good together; you, Sara, Niles, and I. We had a good friendship‒ a family. But everything changed so suddenly when she died, and I was so lost… I had never been very good with feelings, and emotions, and that sort of thing,” he made a mixing gesture with his hands that illustrated how complex it all was to him. “but with Sara gone it just… got worse.”

He let out a long and almost painful breath before continuing. “I knew that you had feelings for me, and I took advantage of that, and I’m very sorry. You’re very special and I do care for you, but not in the way that you wanted me to. But Sara died‒ my wife, the love of my life‒ and I felt alone and empty and it was nice to feel wanted, and desired, and cared for. And yes, my children needed me, but you wanted me. And you were‒ are‒ such a dedicated partner that I got so used to leaning on you until the line between business and personal was blurred. But I was never… in love with you, and it was wrong to give you false hopes.

“Just know that it has nothing to do with you not being enough in any way, you’re just not the woman for me. I’ve always thought of you as more of a sister; you were Sara’s best friend after all, (and that… complicates things even more) but I would never treat my sister the way that I’ve treated you, and for that I profusely apologize.

“Gosh, I have so many things to apologize for, but I don’t want you to think that they’re just words and nothing more. That’s why I’m offering you this‒ because I want to show you that you are family to me, and I take care of family. Sara brought you into her family‒ into our family‒ and it’s not fair for you to be left out because she’s no longer with us or because I cannot, for the sake of my life, fall in love with you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m in love not with you either.”

“What?” questioned a baffled Maxwell.

C.C. gave him an evil grin in return. “I said I’M NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU.” She enunciated every word loud and exaggerated. “I never was.”

Every inch of the man’s body emanated confusion and after a heavy silence he found his voice, but just barely. “Then why‒?”

“‒did I chase you?” Miss Babcock completed smugly. “Because you were a price to be earned, Maxwell. One I was told I deserved,” she spat full of venom. “But mommy was wrong; I deserve a real man. One who is true to his words and doesn’t hide behind excuses.” Her explanation was full of hurt and dignity. “Or what? Did you think that I had fallen in love with the shadow of a human being that you became after losing Sara? That I admired how deep into the ground you were?” She challenged.

Maxwell didn’t dare meet her eyes, but with the last bit of dignity he had left in him he argued softly, “I had just lost my wife.”

“You’re not the only one who lost her,” She replied through gritted teeth. “Yes, she was your wife, but she was my best friend; the one who gave me a home; a place to belong to. She was the first person to make me part of a family, not relatives, but a real family… and I lost her.” Her eyes were now full of unshed tears and her voice trembled with raw emotion, but her jaw remained tightly set and her expression hard. “And guess what? Niles lost her too, as did your children. But instead of succumbing to the devastating pain, he and I swallowed the hurt and kept your family and your business afloat. The only time we got to mourn her was at the cemetery. But we put you and the kids first because no one’s loss was greater than yours… but we still lost her, and it hurts.” Silent tears escaped her eyes and soaked their way down to her chin. The pink sunset light coming in through the window made the path the droplets left on her cheeks look like they were painting the scars she had been hiding for the past 7 years.

“C.C. I’m‒ I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t know. You never notice anything that doesn’t directly affect the company or your own personal interests.” Her voice was calm and low, and somehow that made her even more frightening.

“Let me make this right, C.C. At least this once. I owe you that much,” pleaded Maxwell.

The blonde producer cast her gaze away from her business partner and in a dry quiet voice dismissed him. “I’ll think about it.” For once, the middle-aged man took the hint and left without another word.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t often that Niles drove to the hospital before 9 a.m. He made sure to always feed the family first, have his own breakfast, and have the kitchen and dining room cleaned since Miss Babcock’s bandages were changed at 8 sharp every morning. Breakfast was delivered to her room right after, so there was no real need for him to be there before that. On most days, he even had time to prepare lunch for Mister Sheffield and Miss Fine. He had, as of late, prepared four lunches instead of two. Two were left in the fridge for his boss and the nanny to re-heat, while the other two were nicely packed in an insulated lunch bag that he took with him into Miss Babcock’s room. To anyone who asked, it was his own lunch for later. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but more of a half-truth. He simply didn’t specify that he would only be eating half of it himself, while the rest was consumed by the recovering socialite.

What was different today was not only the early hour of his arrival, but also the large plastic container he unashamedly carried on his hands. Inside was a cake the butler had baked the night before to thank the staff and nurses of the burn unit for all the work they had put into the producer’s treatment and recovery. He had expressed his gratitude in his favourite buttercream and neat piping skills.

Cake delivered to the nurse station and received with “awws” and “thank you’s”, Niles essentially flew into the room that had been C.C.’s for the past two months. He found that she had only began eating her breakfast, as the plate looked almost completely full, minus maybe a couple of bites.

“You’re early, Rochester,” the producer stated without tearing her eyes away from the food.

“I wanted to see if I could catch you before you turned back into human, but I guess it’s good that I didn’t; you’re scary enough in this form. I don’t think my heart could handle the fright otherwise.” The British man pated his chest right above where his heart was as he narrowly shook his head from side to side with his eyes closed.

“Shut up, drama queen, I was having a peaceful meal until you walked through that door.”

He had only just taken a seat but immediately stood up from the chair. “Ok, then.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll leave and take with me this delicious chicken piccata with a side of pasta.”

C.C. squinted her eyes at him. “Oh, you play dirty, dust buster.”

“As do you, my dear,” retorted Niles with a boyish grin and saw her blush. He hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud, so he grabbed the lunch bag and slowly opened the zipper without breaking eye contact with the Broadway producer to deviate her attention. He could see her mouth begin to water.

“Is that fresh garlic bread?” she asked inhaling deeply.

“You know it is,” he replied with an unmissable twinkle in his eyes.

“Fine,” she said closing her eyes at the delightful smell that now filled the room. “You can stay.”

“My, my, have you turned into a benevolent being.”

“Don’t get used to it. It’s only because of how heavenly that smells.” She lifted her fork and knife from the tray. “Now be quiet and let me finish my insipid hospital breakfast in silence.”

“As you wish,” he said before closing his mouth and getting up. He carefully gathered all the get-well cards adorning her room and placed them inside his jacket’s inner pocket. Once he was sure that no card would be left behind, he took his time into meticulously checking the space for her things. Everything that he found to be hers, he put together in preparation for the big move to the fourth floor.

She didn’t have a problem with Niles being there, or even talking. In truth, C.C. found not only comfort, but delight in his presence. She was not usually bothered by the sound of his voice or even his words, and to be very honest, she wasn’t today either, but rather, she was going over Maxwell’s words in her head. The idea of living in his house would have excited her beyond measure in another time, but not now, not after everything.

The house wasn’t the problem, of course, not even the other people that lived there, but Maxwell specifically. Not even the fact that she’d be living under the same roof as Nanny Fine irritated her as much as living with the other producer did. It wasn’t mere anger at him, it was so much more (including anger at herself). But Maxwell had gotten one thing right, Niles’ presence in her life was important, much too important to lose. He had become vital to her. A day just didn’t feel complete if she didn’t spend some time with him. In fact, she was beginning to think that she might not be able to make it without him. But was he worth the hassle of living with the Sheffield’s?  

The question had just begun to take root inside her mind when a “Come in” spoken in the butler’s baritone voice took her out of her thoughts just in time to see a couple of nurses stepping inside.

“Ready to venture out and into your new room, Miss Babcock?” asked a young male nurse with black rimmed glasses.

“Do bears have claws?” she asked smugly.

Everyone else in the room gave a chuckle in response.

“Eager, are we?” asked the butler amused as the two medical workers prepared her for transport.

Most of the tubes and machines C.C. had been connected to when she was first admitted were thankfully gone by now, but a couple of them still remained.

“Well, they did promise me a room with a view of the river, which is better than looking at your wrinkled face all day long, butler boy.”

“You stare much too often for someone who claims to find it so repulsive, Babcock.” His tone was teasing and just a touch flirty.

“Who said I found it repulsive?” She winked and a pleased smile formed on her mouth at seeing him blush.

He didn’t hold her hand, but he walked next to her bed as she was pushed through the hallway and into the elevator to begin their descent into the fourth floor. The metal cubicle dinged as it came to a stop, and the door opened to reveal a different nurse station. On their way to the new room, Niles spotted a familiar head of golden brown hair sitting on one of the couches of the family waiting room. He kept walking next to the moving bed.

Once they reached the new room, the blonde man excused himself for a moment while the nurses sorted out all the necessary details. He stepped into the hallway and walked up to the 10-year-old girl sitting in the waiting room.

“Please tell me you didn’t sneak out,” he said out loud to get her attention.

“Don’t worry, daddy knows. He even dropped me off himself.” Niles gave her an unbelieving stare. “I’m serious! He tried to call you on his cellphone from the car, but when you didn’t pick up, we figured they must already be moving Miss Babcock and you didn’t notice the call. Sure enough, when the butler took the black device out of his pocket, he found two missed calls from the car phone.

“Ok, then… may I ask what you’re doing here, Miss Grace?”

“I’m here to visit Miss Babcock.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I just want to make sure she knows she has a family with us.”

His eyes softened at the girl. She had always been special. Had taught all of them so much about people and life itself. He was glad she had broken out of the shell she had cocooned herself in after her mother’s passing and had become more intuitive of the people around her instead. He found it amusing how accurately she could read others, except when it scared him. How deep could she really look into him? This could’ve been one of those moments if he hadn’t been so moved by the girl’s sincere care for her father’s business partner and late mom’s best friend.

Knock, knock

A head with reddish blonde hair popped through the door.

“You have a very special visitor, Miss Babcock,” announced the owner of the floating head.

C.C. frowned. “Who?”

Instead of opening his mouth to reply, Niles opened the door in its entirety to reveal the little one sporting a sweet smile.

“Hello, Miss Babcock.”

The girl’s greeting was warm and bright, and the producer couldn’t stop the smile spreading through her face. “Hello, G‒, Gr‒” She thought very hard for a moment. “Grace…?” She saw the Sheffield kid smile and give a small nod.

“Look at you, remembering a child’s name!” exclaimed the English man. “Have you been taking human lessons?” He frowned his brow as in suspicion, and she replied by sticking her tongue out at him, to which he chuckled. “I’ll leave you two so you can talk.” He then turned to Gracie and said, “I’ll be in the waiting room in case you need anything, Miss Grace.”

“Thank you, Niles,” she thanked caringly.

“Don’t let the door catch your tail, butler boy,” piqued the socialite as the butler made his way out of the door. It was as much for her amusement as the girl’s, who had been silently watching their interaction with a delighted smile. It felt good for C.C. to be the reason for the little human’s mirth.

Gracie boldly walked to the side of the bed and made herself comfortable in the chair next to it. It had been nice for Miss Babcock to laugh with the other two a minute ago, but now her nerves were eating at her. What was she supposed to say or do? Was she supposed to entertain the kid? She was only, what? 10 years old? And she already looked like she had everything figured out. Whatever happened to the little girl who was always on edge waiting for the end of the world to suddenly drop upon them?

“Don’t mean to be rude, kid, but what are you doing here?” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but she cringed at herself upon hearing her own words. Her children interaction skills were much too rugged and even she could see it.

“I wanted to talk to you, Miss Babcock,” she replied seriously.

A dark thought occurred to her, and she became genuinely suspicious. “Did your father send you?” She asked in a low voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m here on my own account.” Gracie sat taller on the chair looking older than she was.

“Oh!” The producer asked genuinely surprised and now even a little intrigued. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to talk about you, actually.”

“Me?” the blonde producer asked now positively confused.

“About how important you are to the family.”

Flabbergasted, C.C. tried to speak. “I’m‒ Wha‒ What do you mean?”

“I mean that you are part of my family and I want to make sure that you know that, too.” Gracie wasn’t asking; she wasn’t leaving room for second guessing. No. She was claiming it. The youngest Sheffield was stating that C.C. Babcock ‒arrogant and petulant as she was‒ was part of her own beloved family. “I know you were friends with my mom and that’s how you and daddy met and ended up working together. So, she must’ve seen something very special in you to love you so much as to recommend you for a job that would make you be in her own house and around her family all the time. You don’t do that with somebody that you don’t trust, even if they’re as good at their job as you are.” The older woman’s eyes widened at the child’s comment.

“You think‒ you think I’m good at my job?”

“Of course! I don’t remember much about the time when my mom died, but I remember how sad we all were. Especially dad. I know that it was Niles who took care of Brighton, Maggie, and I. If dad was in too much pain to take care of us, he was in too much pain to take care of his company and not let it die. That means that you had to step up if you didn’t want it to collapse, just like Niles didn’t let out family collapse. You did it all by yourself for some time and it remained afloat. It wouldn’t have been that way if you weren’t good at what you do. You could’ve left and start your own company during that time, and Sheffield Productions wouldn’t have stood a chance. And yet, you stayed.” There was a short and uncomfortable pause.

“Yes, I know that you were trying to get dad for yourself, but I think you wanted more than just him; you wanted a loving family. You wanted a home like the one mom built. It makes sense now that you’re here and your family hasn’t visited, and after meeting your dad and seeing your relationship with your brother. But let’s be honest, you have a much better relationship with Niles than you have with dad. Contrary to what most people think, you do get along, just in your own way. It’s kind of like you have your own language that others don’t understand. It’s really fascinating to watch.” Grace’s face beamed at the mention of Niles and Miss Babcock’s banter. She had always been a fan of their interactions.

“What I want to say is that Niles is a very important part of our family, and you are a very important part of his. That makes you important to us, as well. Plus, you’ve always been a part of our lives. Yes, you’ve tried to send us away before in the hopes that daddy would notice you as a woman without us there to distract him, but that didn’t work, and you eventually stopped trying. And I know that you have a soft spot for us… even if you have a hard time remembering our names.”

C.C. grimaced. “Sorry, kid. I don’t do it on purpose. Well… actually, I might. It’s just… you remind me too much of your mom.”

“Sorry,” Gracie offered.

“Don’t be. She was my best friend for a reason.” The blue-eyed woman became pensive. “Probably because she was my only true friend.”

“...until Niles.” Quipped the girl.

“And when did you became so observant? I clearly remember you anxiously expecting the universe to collapse over itself at any given moment.”

“I’ve made a lot of progress in therapy since Fran became my nanny.”

The socialite scoffed and mumbled, “I wish I could say the same.”

“Maybe you need to start being honest.”

“Are you saying I’m a liar?”

“I think that you’ve been lying to yourself for a long time.” The producer pressed her lips into a thin line, unable to retort the little one’s observation. “You’ll never be happy if you don’t start being honest with yourself, Miss Babcock.”

The adult woman turned her head to the side and crossed her arms like a stubborn teenager. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See? You’re doing it right now.”

C.C. didn’t flinch and instead maintained her arms crossed and her chin up high.

“Look,” said Gracie. “I don’t mean to insult you, Miss Babcock. I admire you too much for that. But I meant it when I say that you’re very important to Niles. He might not say it out loud, but he’s been very worried about you, but he’s also been happier than I remember ever seeing him before since he’s been spending most of his time here with you. I think it would be great for the both of you if you were to stay with us while you recover.”

The blonde had a look on her face that screamed betrayal. “I thought you said your dad didn’t send you.”

“He didn’t. He doesn’t even know that I know about his proposal,” promised the child assuringly.

“Then how do you know?” accusation filling her tone.

“I might’ve overheard him talking to Niles about it the other day.”

“Oh,” said the youngest Babcock in a small voice, but the tension on her jaw and shoulders dissipated. “So, rubber maid knows?”

“He does, but he told daddy it was your decision to make.”

A gentle smile adorned Miss Babcock’s features. “Then why are you trying to convince me to accept the offer?”

“Because I think it’s what’s best for both you and Niles,” the girl replied without having to thing about it. “And would really like it if you gave us another opportunity to show you that you do have a place in our family.”

C.C.’s expression further softened, and she felt her heart clench at the youngest Sheffield’s kindness. “Thank you, Gra…ce? You are more like Sara than I realized.

Gracie beamed at that. “Miss Babcock?” She asked tentatively. “Would it be okay if I hugged you?”

“Miss Babcock immediately tensed up and her eyes widened in shock. “You‒ you want to hug me?”

“Only if you want to.”

C.C. sat there in silence for a minute while she internally panicked. “I guess we could… give it a try.”

Grace stood from the chair and got as close to the bed as physically possible before she carefully threw her arms around the socialite’s neck. The woman’s own arms slowly made their way around the girl’s back, and she felt herself melting into the embrace. The small limbs slightly tightened around her, and she felt a wealth of bottled emotions rising to the surface. She was torn between wanting to immediately let go and wishing for the hug to never end.

Chapter Text

The youngest Sheffield had left, and Niles had accompanied her outside to keep an eye on her safety. Still unable to walk, C.C. stayed behind just waiting for her favourite sparring partner to make it back. She was reclined on the bed in silence and as comfortably as her current condition allowed for when a nurse entered her room after knocking on the door.

“Good morning, miss. I brought the rest of your things from the other room.” The woman in white placed the vase full of white flowers on the nightstand to the left of Miss Babcock, but it was the small pile of folded cardstock she placed next to it that caught the socialite’s attention. She would never say at loud, but in that moment, she was thankful for the physiotherapy and the results it was having on her battered body, even if it could get excruciating. Glad that she could now reach her nightstand on her own, she took all the cards at once and placed them on her lap.

C.C. didn’t see the nurse leave since she was so focused on reading each and every one of the handmade cards. The ones from the children made her smile, especially Brighton’s (it amazed her how accurately he drew her in her Broadway persona). Gracie’s touched her the most, which she guessed was because of the conversation the both of them had just had. Maggie’s had intrigued her even though it was so short. She didn’t know the oldest Sheffield kid, who had gone from essentially not having a personality to being obsessed with fashion and beauty, considered her‒ her father’s business associate‒ beautiful.

Knowing that Sara’s kids had paid at least a tad of attention to her, and that each of them admired something about her, made her feel warm inside. But at the same time that it lifted her spirits, it also made her think about how inadequate of a best friend she was being to their deceased mother, and her heart clenched.

Choosing to ignore her thoughts, the rich woman flipped to the next card. It was the nanny’s. C.C. found that she didn’t feel towards the Yiddish woman the hatred she felt towards Maxwell. She wasn’t absolving her of her sins by any means, but something was… different. It was almost like she believed the nanny’s words of apology because there was no knife to pull from her own back that had the other woman’s fingerprints on.

Maybe that’s what it was‒ the inexistent feeling of betrayal. She had always disliked Miss Fine at best (and despised her at worst). She never expected any kind of good from her, not even respect. Mister Sheffield, on the other hand, she had expected different from. She had expected more. Granted, this had not been the first time he stood her up or forgot about her altogether, but that hadn’t always been his way; he might not have noticed her like a woman, but he had treated her more like a human being before Fran Fine had waltzed into their lives.

Even now, the loud woman was surprising her with this new attitude toward her. The change went beyond her words or the tone in her voice‒ it was the actions that counted, and nanny Fine’s behaviour towards Miss Babcock had shifted. Maxwell always threw her a supposedly heart-felt apology after leaving her hanging and then proceeded to begin the same cycle all over again. What reason did she have to believe that this time was any different? Granted, there had already been two much longer, more detailed, and definitely more dramatic apologies, and she hadn’t even had to fish for those; he had come begging for absolution all by himself. But could she take that as meaningful enough change?

It was then that C.C. noticed there was only one more card left for her to read and found herself hoping that it was from Niles. The moment she opened it and saw the handwriting, she knew it was from the wrong Englishman. She was just about to start reading when the sound of Niles’ voice next to her took her out of her reverie.

“I see you finally remembered how to read,” teased the butler. “Or where you just looking at the pictures?”

“I know you’re very old, butler boy‒ ancient‒ that’s why I didn’t fire you when it took you two months to bring me my glasses from the penthouse.”

“You’re the one who forgot that I don’t work for you,” the butler retorted.

With confidence, she replied, “Maxwell might be the one paying you, but you certainly work for me, tidy bowl.”

The man hummed in amusement. “You sound very sure of yourself, brunette.”

“Well, let’s see. You spend most of your day at my bedside, you cook for me, fetch me stuff, run my errands…” enlisted C.C. in her most snobbish voice. “What does that make you, rubber maid?”

“Your wife,” he deadpanned.

The producer was caught off guard by the response and the British man smirked in delight.

“You wish,” snarled the socialite not quite yet over the shock.

“And you don’t?” He asked cockily. When she squinted her eyes at him and remained silent, Niles pressed on, “Are you putting an end to our agreement, Miss Babcock?” His tone was so innocent that it could’ve fooled anyone… who didn’t look at the naughty way his face was glowing.

“Well, that depends…” she responded with the same fake innocence.

This time, it was Niles turn to frown at her in suspicion. “On…?”

“If you wrote me a get-well card… you know, like the rest of the Sheffield household.”

His eyes turned into those of a deer caught in headlights.

Fear crept up the heiress’ spine, so she masked it with a barb of her own. “What is it, rubber maid? The cat got your tongue?” She wasn’t about to let him see how important his answer was to her. “Well?”

“Well‒ I‒ I mean‒ It’s not that‒ Well, I kind of‒”

“Oh, spit it out, Rochester!”

“It’s not that simple, Babcock!”

“Actually, it is.” Her response like that of a stubborn teenager.

“No, it’s not, and you know it,” he retorted frustrated.

“You either wrote one or you didn’t.”

“I didn’t, okay?!” he sighed. “I didn’t make you a card… because I didn’t know what to write. Nothing that was appropriate sounded right. I mean, would you even believe that a card with a generic ‘get well soon’ was from me?” She shook her head no. “But I couldn’t exactly tell you… what I really wanted to,” he said in a whisper. “I was so worried about you… but I was also afraid… and hurt.”

“You were hurt because I was in an accident?” Yes, she was teasing, but she was also genuinely confused.

“Please, Babcock, even you know that’s ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes. “I was hurt because you went after our boss after getting my hopes up. No explanation, no transition; you just flipped the switch and suddenly I didn’t matter anymore. Yes, that was years ago, but if you had died in that fire, or if you died anywhere else, I wouldn’t be anyone to you. Nobody gives his condolences to the butler of the business partner of the deceased, let alone comforts him. Of course not! I would most likely be the one making your funeral arrangements and serving at your wake.”

A heavy silence followed.

“I’m sorry,” braved C.C. in a small enough voice to be lost between the voices. Luckily, no other voice had made a sound inside the room. Niles picked up his gaze from the floor to look directly into her blue eyes. She swallowed hard in an attempt to rid herself from the urge to look away from the deep sadness contained in his eyes. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Niles.” The man’s eyes filled with tears and his lips parted slightly in amazement. No words came out of his mouth. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness‒” continued the blonde woman who was beginning to panic.

“I forgive you.” It was a firm statement, no room for interpretation or second-guessing. They both felt like a large, festering, deep wound had closed and they could begin to really heal.

Chapter Text

The two blondes had chosen to turn on the TV after C.C.’s apology and flipped through the channels until they landed on one of those soap operas they both (not so) secretly enjoyed. They had never used the talking box in the hospital while Niles was in the room before, but neither knew quite what to say after their sentimental conversation from earlier, while also not being ready to part from each other just yet. They felt like they had just jumped over a cliff that separated them from the other side of the road and somehow landed in one piece. The problem was that they had been stuck in front of that precipice for so long that now didn’t know how to continue moving forward.

Niles was sitting on the chair next to C.C.’s bed. Instead of facing her, however, they were both facing forward and slightly upward. They had been holding hands the whole time. Neither knew who initiated the contact, but they both cherished it. The drama playing on the screen would have been enough to claim their whole attention at any other moment, but today, only the feelings of relief and the hope of what the future could finally look like for them occupied the entirety of their thoughts.

After more than an hour of not really watching what was playing, they two of them suddenly felt the other tense up and hesitantly turned to look into each other’s eyes.

It was C.C. who broke the silence with much caution. “Niles?”

“What is it, Babs?” He asked trying to keep his nerves at bay.

“What do you think about Maxwell’s offer?”

“You’re asking for my opinion?” He feigned worry and made a show of using the back of the hand that was not linked to hers to check her forehead for a fever. “Should I be calling a nurse?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a barely noticeable smirk on her lips. “I’m only asking because it will affect you as well.” She defended. “You know, since you also live there, and work there, and…”

“…And Maxwell will be there,” Niles finished for her knowingly. He took a deep breath stealing himself. “Well, how do you feel about it?” How do you feel about him?

“I don’t know!” She exclaimed as she let go of her companion’s hand to grab her hair with both of hers in exasperation. Niles swallowed next to her, and she immediately put her hands down to look directly into his eyes. “I know I don’t want Maxwell, Niles. I don’t even like him, anymore. I might even hate him now!”

“Then why don’t you just say no?”

“Because…! The little one came here and said she wanted to talk about me and how important I supposedly am to her family and that I am a part of her family and how she knows that I was friends with her mother and how much she must’ve trusted me to recommend me for the job with Maxwell and how good I am at my job and how she knows I practically saved the company from drowning when her mom died and her father was a mess just like you are the one who kept the family from collapsing” Niles arched an eyebrow at Miss Grace’s awareness, but Miss Babcock didn’t stop, not even to take a breath. “And she went on about how I could’ve left and started my own company while her dad’s collapsed but I stayed because I wanted a family and not just Maxwell but the home that Sara built and made me a part of, and my gosh, Niles she’s right!” She was panting by the time she finished, and Niles just sat there for a moment taking it all in as he gave her the opportunity to catch her breath.

“So… you want to ditch Maxwell and keep his family to yourself?” His fake seriousness and playful question made her chuckle lightly, and he responded with his own lopsided smile.

“Nooo.” Duh! “But the girl is offering me the chance to be a part of her family just like Sara did, and I’m already a horrible person as is! What kind of friend will I be if I say no to Sara’s kid?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Miss Babcock.”

She scrunched her face as if her next words pained her. “That’s the problem,” she groaned.

It was Niles’ turn to chuckle. “It’s okay to want it.”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“No, it’s not,” he said firmly. He also covered her hand with his in support. “It’s natural to want it, especially when your family sucks as much as yours does.”

“And that’s an understatement.”

“You deserve to be happy as much as the rest of us, and if it means moving in with the Sheffield’s for a while as you get to know them and let them get to know you in return, then so be it!” A smile adorned his face as he added, “I know I’ll be the happiest to have my sparring partner living down the hall from me.”

She grinned as she imagined exchanging barbs with a pajama-clad Niles for a moment before a thought darkened her mood once more. “What about Maxwell?”

“Well, didn’t he offer to stay out of your way?”

“It’s still his house. He even works there.”

“Which means he’ll be in his office for most of the day whenever he’s not at the theater,” the butler reminded her.

“He’ll still be at the table for breakfast and dinner.”

“You can eat in your room if it bothers you,” he reasoned. “Or… you could eat with me when they’re finished with their meal…”

She gasped pretending to be insulted and put a hand to her chest. “A Babcock eating with the servants?”

“You’re right, I better bring your bowl out into the terrace so you don’t make a mess inside.”

They sat there, both with pleased smiles brightening their faces and looking at each other. After a couple of minutes in silence, a whispered “thank you” came out of the woman’s lips.

His eyes remained on hers and his smile grew the tiniest bit brighter. “You’re welcome.”

Needing to change the subject, the classy woman asked, “So, what were you going to say before I asked about… the offer?”

“What makes you think that I was going to say anything?”

“You tensed up like you do every time you think there is even the slightest chance that I might run into Maxwell's arms.” He kept his mouth closed as his gaze traveled downward in slight embarrassment. “What, you can know me better than I know myself, but I can't know you like a book, bell boy? Now spit!”

“I was merely going to ask what was in Mister Sheffield’s card.”

“You’re right, we never read that!” She slowly twisted her spine to the left and reached out her arm to grab the pile of white cardstock resting on her bedside table.

“Look at you getting those on your own! I’m glad to see that those horrible therapy session haven’t been for nothing… not the physical therapy anyway.” He finished the last sentence with his trademark boyish grin.

“Oh, yes, because you are the epitome of sanity, Mister I-listen-on-other-people-behind-the-door-to-feel-like-there’s-something-going-on-in-my-life.”

“Do you want me to read you the letter or not?” asked a now grumpy and pouting Niles.

“Nah, I’ll just read it myself.” She opened the folded piece of paper and extended her hand in front of Niles, palm up, without tearing her eyes from the blurry scribbles. “Glasses,” she demanded snobbishly.

Fighting the urge to grab her hand and kiss each knuckle individually, the English man swiftly grabbed the specs and deposited them in her awaiting palm. She put them on as regally as ever and proceeded to read the card.

“Dear C.C.,

"I’m sorry if this is too generic but get well soon. Actually, take all the time you need, just please don’t die. I couldn’t stand to lose someone as close to me as you. The business needs you, and I need you, as my business partner and as my friend. I never thought I’d say this, but I need you bickering with Niles while we work. The house just isn’t the same without your daily arguments and zingers.

"I know it’s only been two days since you went to work, but I realized immediately that the company has always survived during difficult times because you were always there to take care of things. And now that you’re the one going through something, I haven’t the slightest idea how to stay on top of business.

“The truth is that it’s killing me to realize what a selfish fool I have been. I wish I had appreciated you better, especially after we lost our dear Sara. You would think I would have learned back then how fragile life is and how fast it can end, but maybe I kidded myself into believing that I would never lose someone dear to me again. Or maybe I knew I would and that’s why I kept everybody at arms length. The point is that it took for you to be caught in a fire for me to realize that we can lose you‒ that I can lose you‒ forever in an instant and it would leave an empty space in my life that I know no other person can fill.

“I can’t lose you C.C. and judging by Niles’ reaction after we came back from the hospital, neither can he. So, please, don’t leave us.”

Her eyes were misty when she finished reading; her breathing had picked up considerably and her face was red with the effort she was doing (probably to keep herself from crying). She just sat there looking at the offending object without reading the words for what felt like hours. So many thoughts ran through her mind, and so many emotions fought to take control, that the silence in the room scared her (when had he turned the television off?). So, she turned to Niles, who had been quietly waiting for her to give him a clue as to what she was thinking.

“What happened after you came back from the hospital the night of the fire?”

“We might have… said a few words to each other…”

“Such as…?”

“Oh, nothing important,” he said dismissively.

Of course, she was not convinced in the slightest. “So, Maxwell included it in his letter because of how unimportant your reaction was?”

Niles quickly took the card from the producer’s hands and gave it a quick read. His face turned red. “Well, I might’ve… called him a selfish idiot for standing you up on your birthday…”

“Aw, Niles, you old softie. Did you defend me in front of Maxwell?”

“Well, maybe… a little… sorta… kinda.”

They smiled at each other, and when C.C.’s eyes began to water once again, Niles wrapped his arms around her shoulders and put her head under his chin.

Chapter Text

On the seventh day of February, C.C. Babcock received what felt like the best news she had gotten in her current life: after two and a half months in the hospital, she would be released the following Monday. Such was her joy that she picked up the phone, and before the doctor had finished exiting through her room’s door, she was already dialing her brother’s number to share the news.

“Hello?” answered a polished male voice.

“I’m getting out,” she informed excitedly without identifying herself.

He must’ve recognized her voice because he replied with a playfulness reserved only for his little sister. “Are they releasing you early on good behaviour?” She could hear the smile in his voice from the other side of the line.

“Early? I’ve been here longer than mommy and daddy ever spent with us!”

He let out a chuckle. “True,” he conceded. “Do you need help hiring anyone? Are you going to be at the penthouse by yourself?” Noel tried to mask his concern by being practical, but C.C. noticed.

“Don’t worry, I have it all taken care of already,” the youngest Babcock assured.

“Well, I think your poor inmates will be glad to be free from you.” The playfulness had returned to his voice.

“Actually…” she said smugly. “I’m moving in with my ‘poor inmates,’”

“Excuse me?” Hearing the surprise in his voice filled C.C. with pride and a smug smile appeared on her lips.

“I’m staying at the mansion with the Sheffield’s while I recover.” Her voice became dry and low as she continued. “And before you say anything, no, I am not staying there for Maxwell.”

“Of course not,” he stated matter-of-factly. “It’s for the butler.”

“That’s‒ that’s not what I said, Noel!” she countered sightly taken aback.

“…but…?”

She sighed defeatedly. “…I guess it doesn’t hurt.”

“Uh huh… Have you told him, yet?”

“That I’m going to be staying at the mansion?”

“That you have feelings for him,” clarified Noel. “And don’t you dare deny it, C.C., because I know you.”

She was silent for a moment before speaking in a very small voice as if afraid that the universe would hear. “He already knows.”

“So…?” He sounded like he was trying to contain his happiness.

C.C. was annoyed. “So, what, Noel? Life is difficult and I’m… complicated.” The last word was the opposite of loud but loaded with resignation and regret. She was quiet for another moment, but Noel waited patiently until she was ready to continue. “He wants to wait.”

“Wait? For what?”

“For me to get out of the hospital and be certain that I’m not interested in Maxwell anymore.” Her voice was like that of a teenager who was reluctantly admitting to their crimes.

“You have to give it to him, it’s only fair.”

“Whatever,” she muttered.

“Look, I know you’re not convinced, but just think about how things would have been if our parents had taken the time to make sure that they actually wanted to marry each other.”

“Then we would’ve never been born.”

“And doesn’t that sound tempting sometimes?”

“Hmm… very,” agreed C.C.

“Seriously, though. If he’s doing this, it means he loves you enough to give you the choice, and mature enough to protect his own heart. I’d say that’s a real man.”

“Well, I can’t confirm anything at the moment… if you know what I mean.” she remarked wittily.

“Is that why you’re so grumpy about it?”

“Oh, shut up, Noel!” roared C.C. and Noel laughed in return. “I’m not even sure that my injuries would allow for that,” she murmured lacking hope.

A dark silence lingered for a beat before Noel asked, “What about Maxwell? Did you forgive him already.”

“I’m‒ no. I’m working it out on therapy, but… no.”

“Are you telling me that you want to? You, C.C. Babcock?

“Oh… believe me, it’s not that. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. No room for doubt there. But Dr. Bort said something about me deserving to forgive him and not live with that load anymore, and that forgiveness does not mean we have to be friends again. And honestly? Blame it on the exhaustion and all the drugs they’re pumping me with, but I might be considering it.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

C.C. chuckled in amusement. “Guess I’ve spent too much time with Niles. His ancient wisdom must be finally rubbing off on me.”

“Good morning, Miss Babcock,” her physiotherapist greeted from the door. “Ready to take another step toward recovery?” The doctor grinned at his own pun.

C.C. gave him a sarcastic look. “How cute,” she deadpanned.

The doctor, already used to her theatrics, continued to chuckle. “Is she in a good mood today?” the physician asked Niles.

“More eager than a kid that’s been told they’re going to Disneyland.”

The physiotherapist’s eyebrows went high up in his forehead as he gave a short whistle. “I guess I better hurry before she bites my head off, then!”

C.C. rolled her eyes at the two men. “Excuse me, doctor, are you two going to spend all day chatting like two housewives, or are you going to help me out of this bed?”

Niles smiled amusedly at C.C.’s words before turning to the young doctor. “Told you,” He snickered unaffected.

The man in scrubs pulled the walker next to the bed, still smiling. Once the walking aid had been readied, his demeanor became serious but not unkind. “Ok, Miss Babcock, I want you to set your covers aside now and seat at the very edge of the bed like you would for any other session, but with your feet resting on the floor like we have been practicing, and wait for me there, okay?”

The blonde woman nodded her head with nervous eagerness. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a similar expression on Niles' face and the rapid rising and falling on his chest. She pulled the covers to the side as she turned her entire body to the left being careful not to rub her backside too harshly. Niles had already rounded the bed and was standing to her right, ready to assist her in any way he could.

Once both of her feet were planted on the bottom of her warmed room, the physiotherapist put the walker in front of C.C., as close to her as the bed would allow for and put his hands on the frame to prevent his stubborn patient from going too fast on her own.

“Very good. Now you’re going to grab onto the walker with both of your hands and Niles and I are going to help you stand up,” he turned to his left to nod to the other man, who returned the gestured in understanding. “but be very careful not to put too much weight on your right leg, only enough to help you balance. Most of the load should be on you left leg for now,” he instructed before letting go of the frame of the metal aid. “Ready?”  She nodded her head at him. “Okay. Grab her left arm,” he said to Niles. “And now,” turning back to C.C. he said, “on the count of three you’re going to stand up as slowly as you need to. There’s no rush here. One… two… three.”

C.C. grabbed the walker tightly as she put her weight forward and very slowly straightened her knees up. She felt one strong hand on her back, and she knew it was Niles’. The pair and a half supporting her arms didn’t waver, and she felt for a moment like she had been reborn and ready to begin a new life.

Against her best efforts, her bottom lip quivered, and a tear fell from each of her eyes as she looked at Niles. He was already crying when she turned to him, and a radiant smile illuminated his entire face. No words came out of his mouth, but he didn’t need to say it. It was plastered all over his face: he was proud of her, and he was happy, so freaking happy.

The doctor sent a look to Niles and both of them began to little by little take away their support on C.C. so she would have time to adjust. As they finally let go of her arms completely, they remained close to her to make sure that they would still be able to lend their help promptly in the case that the effort became too much for her. She was still heavily leaning on the walker, but she was standing. For the first time in almost three months, C.C. Babcock was standing on her own two feet.

The smile didn’t leave her face at any moment, but only a minute went by before C.C.’s forehead started to feel moist, and her breathing became ragged.

“I think that’s enough for today,” she heard the doctor say.

C.C. tried to ask for another moment, but she was panting too heavily to say anything. Instead, being the stubborn woman that she was, she squeezed the sides of the walker so strongly that her knuckles turned white. Her knees were shaking so furiously that she knew they would buckle under her any moment, but she wanted to savor the moment for as long as she could. Niles and the doctor must’ve noticed because they reclaimed their hold on her arms and very, very gently pushed her back down on the bed.

They helped her recline back on the pillows while she regained her breath. Niles tucked her in and rounded the bed to sit back at the chair and hold her hand. The doctor congratulated her before making his way to the door and out of her room, but his words were lost to her when she felt Niles’ lips pressing quick, small kisses to the back of her hand in happiness. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she fell into a blissful sleep.

Chapter Text

The following Monday, when the door to the Sheffield mansion was opened and before C.C.’s wheelchair had had the time to be pushed into the foyer, a very fast and excited ball of fur leaped into her lap and the blonde heiress was bombarded with kisses by the tiniest tongue she had ever known. She froze in shock for longer than she would ever admit. And rightly so, for in the two years she had had Chester, the dog had never shown such affection towards her. She had only seen him perform such a display for nanny Fine, and no one else.  

She heard the whiny voice of the other woman screaming the little fella’s name and the clicking of her heels against the floor getting closer. The nanny must have thought he was trying to escape when the door opened and was chasing after him in an attempt to reach him before he crossed the door. But then, the Yiddish woman came to a halt in the foyer, right in front of the entrance. Her mouth was agape, and her eyebrows went up into her hair. She must be as surprised as C.C. herself felt at the little dog standing on its hind legs on the blonde woman’s thighs and supporting his front paws on her chest as his little head tilted upwards so he could reach its master’s cheek and jaw and pester them with kisses.

After a couple of beats, Miss Fine’s mouth formed into a smile as she got over the shock and regained her composure. “Aww, Miss Babcock! Look how happy little Chester is to see you! He has missed you dearly, you know?”

“He has?” Asked C.C. incredulous and still in shock.

“Yes! He started moping around the house, refusing to eat his food for a few days, not wanting to play with his toys. One day, he refused to sleep anywhere other than on the green couch in Mister Sheffield’s office. You know, the one you always sit on. He’s slept there every night since. It’s like he knew something was very wrong.” The brunette’s put a finger on her chin as if on thought. “Now that I think about it, that was the day your heart… you know… Anyway! Welcome home, Miss Babcock!” Sensing the socialite’s agitation, the loud woman walked back to the living room.

“Thanks,” replied C.C. trying to take it all in. She looked down to find that Chester had now settled into her lap and curled into a ball.

She heard Niles voice ask her quietly, as if only for her to hear, “Do you need a moment?”

The heiress wanted to say yes, but she really didn’t want to extend the wait any further, so she shook her head ‘no’ instead and steeled herself.

“Ok, then… welcome home,” said the butler as he pushed her chair towards the living room, where the kids and their flashy nanny were waiting for her with balloons and a big, black banner with ‘welcome home, Miss Babcock’ written in golden letters.

She heard them said the exact four words she’d just read in unison, and she froze. What should she do? Should she say something? Should she just smile? Should she say thank you? Thank you was the standard, right? Would it sound okay, or would it be too uptight and impersonal? Or worse, would it sound way too personal, and cheesy, and not like her at all?

The always prepared Broadway producer would have begun to hyperventilate if the nanny hadn’t interrupted the blonde’s thoughts with her loud voice at that exact moment. “Don’t worry, Miss Babcock. We know you’re probably tired and anxious to get to your room. We just wanted to give you a warm welcome and make you feel at home.”

The rich woman felt herself relaxing and put on the most genuine smile she could manage. It was only then that she noticed that the three kids were wearing their school uniforms. It was a Monday after all. But shouldn’t they already be in class?

She only had time to frown before she felt herself being moved. She entertained the thought for the entirety of the way to her new room as she petted the soft fur of her suddenly cuddly dog. Once the door opened and she was rolled inside, however, she found a different surprise awaiting her. The entire place was adorned with yellow tulips; a huge vase full of them on the nightstand, a beautiful centerpiece on the small desk, tulips around the mirror of the vanity, tiny glass vases with single tulips with the stem cut short on every surface, and even a single tulip on her pillow.

If she hadn’t known what to say earlier in the living room with Miss Fine and the children, she was even worse now. Except, instead of anxiousness, she was consumed by a warm feeling inside her chest and an overwhelming urge to cry.

Niles’ voice broke the silence. “I thought you might like it.”

“What‒” she took a breath. “What’s all this?”

“Your new beginning,” replied the man from behind her in a tone that felt like a caress. “Shall I help you stand so you can get on the bed?” He quickly continued, knowing that she would need some time to process it.

“No, I’m too tired for that. But you can carry me there, butler boy.”

The man hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” I know you won’t.

“Very well, then. I’ll still be very careful; I don’t want you suing me for everything I’m worth.”

She couldn’t contain the smile from forming on her lips in anticipation. “Shut up and get me to bed.”

He had just put little Chester on the floor after gently removing him from his lap and was lifting her from the chair when his face went bright red and immediately, she felt the blood rushing from her neck into her own face. She had her left arm hooked around his neck and their faces were very close to each other. “You know what I mean.” Attempted to amend C.C. as she adverted her eyes from him.

A chuckle escaped his lips. As he gently placed her on the bed, the furry, four-legged creature jumped next to her. He didn’t say anything while he removed her slippers and set them on the floor next to her. He then proceeded to put a pillow under her braced leg and present her with the tulip that had been resting on her pillow.

“Do you need anything else,” he asked quietly. She grabbed the stem of the flower with her slender fingers and shook her head from side to side, to which he answered with a nod. Right before leaving, Niles leaned down and placed a warm kiss on her forehead. “Rest well, Miss Babcock.”

She was at a loss for words. The only thing she could do was hold onto the yellow tulip and stare as the butler left the room and closed the door behind him.

Chester started to softly snore, and she turned her head to look at him all snuggled next to her. She combed her fingers through his soft fur and held the flower to her nose with her opposite hand to inhale its scent. She closed her eyes and thought about the events of her day.

To have the fresh (even if not very clean) air of New York hit her face the moment she was pushed out of the hospital’s door had been a bliss. It was freezing outside, and the doctors had warned her that she would be colder now than she had been before the accident. It was a consequence of her injuries, and it was completely normal and most likely, permanent. But that didn’t matter in that moment. She was finally free to go wherever she wanted, didn’t have to be tied to the same bed 24/7, and would finally stop eating that detestable hospital food. Granted, she still had to go back for physiotherapy six times a week, but she would take that over practically living there any day. Especially if she didn’t have to eat the awful food they served there. Oh, how she hated it.

Plus, she had Niles now. Not like she would prefer to have him, but she wasn’t completely alone anymore. He had been with her all through her stay at the hospital, and he was with her now. He had even been the one to pick her up, and to her surprise, alone. No Jewish nasal voices giving an overly optimistic pep talk that only served to irritate, no clumsy Maxwell trying to help but not being sure what to do and becoming more of a nuance than anything else, and no children. The last part had disappointed her a bit, if she was to be honest, but she was too happy to give the feeling any more room, so she pushed it to the back of her mind. It didn’t matter now. Not after they welcomed her back into their house as if she had always lived there. Even her grumpy and irritable dog had missed her and was currently sleeping curled up to her side. He had escaped nanny Fine to jump on her lap, for heaven’s sake! Maybe, just maybe, she was farther from being alone than she had thought.

Chapter Text

She woke up to the sound of knocking. Her eyes fluttered opened to see Niles entering through the door with a tray of food. She sleepily looked at the clock on the wall and found that it was already past midday.

“I thought you might be hungry,” explained Niles curtly. The instant the smell hit her nostrils, her stomach rumbled, and he chuckled in amusement. “I guess I was right.”

“Oh, it smells heavenly!” She slowly pulled herself higher into the pillows to be in a more seated position against the headboard. Chester perked his head up at the movement. His master gave him a quick scratch behind his ears, and he laid his head on top of his small paws once again.

“It’s just a sandwich,” he assured her with a smile that showed how much he was enjoying seeing her this happy. Then, he set down the little table over her legs on top of the bed and sat down on the edge next to her, since the other side of the bed was still occupied by the little dog.

There was a small package of disinfectant hand wipes on the tray for her and she hurried to get her hands clean and dispose of the towelette. She had a very inviting meal in front of her and she refused to delay its consumption any longer than strictly necessary.

She took one half of the hoagie in her hands and closed her eyes as she pulled it close to her nostrils and filled her lungs with its delightful aroma. Mouth watering and sleepiness forgotten, she took a bite and let out a long, dramatic exhale at the flavours that enchanted her tongue. It was more than ‘just a sandwich.’ He had made her a grilled sandwich with smoked bacon, ham, a drizzle of honey, and provolone cheese that was now deliciously melted, with fresh tomato and cucumber. The hospital kitchen could never achieve that level of perfection.

“Hmm! I hate to admit it, but I missed your cooking,” she exclaimed with her mouth still full, and eyes closed in delight.

“Have you gone senile already?” Protested her favourite Englishman. “I sneaked food for you every day for a month, woman!” He finished with indignation.

“I remember, Niles. But now I can finally eat this without first having to choke down that monstrosity they call food.” She let out another moan. “It tastes even better when my taste buds didn’t have to be poisoned with that trash just a few moments ago… and it’s just a sandwich! Oh, I’m afraid of what I’ll do when you bring me a steak.” She took another slow bite as she enjoyed every little bit of it.

“Yes, I wouldn’t want to be there when the claws and the fangs start growing.” He shook his head with faked disgust as he teased her. “But I guess it would be easier to just throw you the steak raw and let you feast on it.”

“Oh, please…” said Miss Babcock with a roll of her eyes but never taking her attention away from the food. “…we both know you’d never do that,” she stated confidently as she took another bite.

“And why is that?” he challenged trying to mask his surprise.

“Because you’d have to clean afterwards,” deadpanned the blonde woman looking as regal as ever even with her mouth still full of half chewed bacon.

“I figured you’d just lick the blood clean from the floors, but you’re right‒ werewolf saliva is too disgusting; I wouldn’t want to be the one cleaning that,” retorted the butler pretending to shiver.

“…Or anything else, for that matter. Accept it, Niles, you are the laziest butler in the world.”

“Said by the woman who didn’t even get out of bed in almost three months.”

“I was in the hospital!” she retorted in a tone that suggested she shouldn’t even have to explain that.

“Excuses‒ just like I expected.” He tried to put on an uptight, dismissive face, but just couldn’t rid the smirk from his mouth.

C.C. squinted her eyes in resentment and threw her rolled up napkin right at his face, which perfectly hit its intended mark. His body shook with silent laughter, and the smile reached his eyes. The blonde woman couldn’t help but return the smile. His happiness was contagious.

“You’re lucky I love your food… bell boy.” Her eyes remained slitted.

“Yes… I’m lucky…” said the Englishman in his most flirtatious voice. His tone, the tinkle in his eye, and the look of pure adoration in his face were enough to make the woman blush, and for an overwhelming warmth to fill her entire body. She found it almost impossible to not pull him in for a long and passionate kissing session. She wanted him, and it was evident that he wanted her just as much, but he had asked her to wait.

She was about to say, “to hell with it” and go for his lips when he cleared his throat and his demeanor turned into that of a proper butler.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Babcock?” Still overtaken by the thick tension that had almost pulled their bodies together just a moment ago, the producer couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less come up with an excuse to keep him near her.

Niles, seeing the struggle in her eyes, offered a gentle smile and a suggestion left his lips with warm politeness. “Perhaps you would like to seat in the living room for a while. The kids are all in school, so you could have the T.V. all to yourself.”

“Sure. A bit of movement and a change of scenery would be nice.”

The blue-eyed man stood up from the bed very properly. “Very well, then. Would you like to stand up?” he asked with a small bow of his head.

“Yes, but only for a moment.”

“I’ll get your walker and wheelchair ready, then.”

“Thanks,” she muttered awkwardly while he moved both aids as close to the bed as possible, making sure that there was enough room for him to assist her.

As she threw the covers to the side, the reddish fur ball curled up next to her jumped down to the floor and started sniffing the walker. C.C. slowly turned her body to the left until both of her socked feet made contact with the floor. Niles was already waiting in front of her with the walking aid and helped her to stand up, offering his arms as support when she was ready to transfer to the chair.

They both knew he could just easily carry her (bride-style or not) to and from the chair. And boy, did they enjoy that. But their goal was to ease her into first standing up on her own, and eventually walking. Yes, she would still get physiotherapy five to six times a week, but the doctor had said there was nothing better than doing the movements at home and incorporating them into her everyday life.

“Do you want to seat on the couch, or do you prefer to stay in your wheelchair?” asked the blonde man once they reached the living room.

“Niles, I haven’t sat on a couch in almost three months. Do you seriously think that I would want to stay in the wheelchair?” interrogated the socialite in a scolding tone.

“Well, it’s hard to know with you,” protested Niles in a tone that suggested that he was making a great effort trying to keep up with her choices. “You so often go with the worst possible option that I can never be too sure with you.” C.C. knew he was teasing her about Maxwell, but there was no venom in his voice. It truly was pure friendly banter (to their own standards).

“Yeah, like you didn’t choose the same man to work with that I did.”

A chuckle escaped his mouth. “And look where it got us,” he added sarcastically.

“His living room.” Was her dry response.

“And not a step farther.” He then noticed that she had balled her hands into fists and was pulling the sleeves of her sweater to cover her shaking hands. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah, a little,” she mumbled.

“I’ll be right back. Try not to go anywhere.”

She replied with a humourless “Ha, ha!” loud enough for him to hear all the way from the hallway that led to their rooms.

When he got back, he found Chester lying on top of her legs like it was the most natural thing for him to do.

“I just went to fetch you a blanket, but I guess you already found yourself one,” he said referring to the unusually clingy dog.

“I knew he didn’t entirely hate me. I mean, he sometimes slept in my bed and liked to lie at my feet on the couch every time I watched a movie. But this is almost scary. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he was confusing me for nanny Fine.”

“Well, like she said, he really has missed you,” pointed out Niles.

“Funny how it took for me to almost die for even my dog to start loving me.”

He faked a very dramatic gasp. “Maybe the problem is you.”

“No, the problem is that I’m still here, in the middle of the living room, still in this wheelchair instead of the couch, with the T.V. still off, and no blanket to warm me up, while this butler shaped like a drum just stands there, chatting away, and charging by the hour.”

He leaned down until he was close enough for only her to hear his words, and with a mischievous smile on his face said,

“Like you’d be mad if I was ripping Mister Sheffield off.”

She let out a small snicker. “Only if you don’t if you don’t get me warm and comfy right away, butler boy.”

“As you wish, milady.” He tried to gently pick the dog up from the woman’s lap, but he received a protective growl from the tiny mutt. “The fireplace it is.”

“Good boy!” Praised Miss Babcock jokingly. “Now I really think he’s confusing me with nanny Fine.”

It was Niles’ turn to laugh. “Well, you better hang on to him, ‘cause if he falls, I ain’t picking him up.” He then put one arm under her knees and the other around her mid back and picked her up from the chair along with the ball of fur currently on her lap. After he gently deposited her on the big couch, he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and placed one of the throw pillows under leg before handing her the remote and heading towards the fireplace.

C.C. was silently enjoying his meticulous care. He didn’t walk on eggshells around her, and for that she was grateful. He maintained the normalcy between them and, even though he knew which topics were sensible for her, never went too easy on her.

“There,” said Niles, interrupting her thoughts. “It should be as hot as the depths of hell in here in no time.”

She turned her head to him to throw him a cocky look and some twisted form of thank you when she saw the wood burning and suddenly, she was back on the stairs of the burning building. Except this time, instead of running, she was stuck in place like she had lost the ability to move. She felt herself beginning to hyperventilate and there was something wet running down her cheeks.

She was cold, and yet she could still feel the burn of the flames biting her skin. They were engulfing her, feeding from the oxygen in the room before she could inhale any of it. The smell of smoke filled her lungs and the big, deep scar on her back throbbing.

Then, very abruptly, a face appeared in front of hers. It was Niles’. His blue eyes were pleading, and his mouth was moving, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. There was something rough and warm on the sides of her face, and hear hearing began to gradually grow clearer. Niles was calling her name. His voice was smooth, yet firm, and just listening to it made the fire around her become less blinding.

“Hey, look at me, Babs,” she heard Niles saying. “You’re not in that building anymore; you’re safe now. I’m right here and you’re safe. Just breath. You’re safe, Miss Babcock. Just keep breathing.”

C.C. did as she was told, and little by little the flames got smaller and smaller, and the narrow stair way turned into the bright and spacious living room of the Sheffield mansion. The man had said the truth‒ she was safe, and he was right here with her, kneeling in front of the couch, his striking blue eyes mere inches away from hers and his strong hands holding both sides of her head. She felt the body in front of her relaxing as her breathing went back to normal, and a pair of thumbs dried the tears she didn’t realize she had shed.

“Are you okay?” asked the blonde with an English accent. His voice was very gentle, but there was a firmness behind his words that kept her grounded. She nodded her head in answer. “Are you sure?” He asked.

“I’m not there and you’re here,” repeated C.C. as if to reassure them both.

“Good. Would you like me to stay here with you?” She nodded. “Would you like me to hold you?” She hesitated for a quick second before nodding again, more eagerly, and with trembling lips that revealed how vulnerable she really felt.

The butler stood up from his crouching position and helped her readjust her position on the couch so that he could seat behind her back and wrap his arms around her. They settled on some T.V. show they found when cruising the channels and enjoyed each other’s warmth, even if the temperature was a little too hot for Niles.

Hours later, when Fran entered through the front door, ready to welcome the kids from school, she found the butler holding a now sleeping Miss Babcock. He was slightly sweaty, but the small smile on his face and the pure look of adoration made him look like the most beautiful man in the entire world.

He turned to her and waved silently, motioning for her to be quiet as not to disturb the sleeping lioness in his embrace.

Chapter Text

Her new nurse arrived at 7 a.m. to help her get ready for the day. Niles had opened the door for her and led her to the living room, where she waited while he walked to the ground floor room of the female (former?) producer where she was just waking up.

“Good morning, Miss Babcock. The nurse is here,” announced the British butler upon opening her door. He had knocked first out of education, even though he knew she would still be what one would consider indecent, still in bed, in her pajamas, bare faced, and messy hair.

“Thanks,” she yawned. “Please let her in.”

The man gave a courteous nod as he went back to fetch the nurse.

Another knock announced the other woman’s arrival before she entered. “Good morning, Miss Babcock. I’m Stella Newman, your new nurse.”

She was a thin woman in her mid-thirties with honey brown eyes, medium fair to olive skin, and shiny, dark brown hair that was tied into a sleek bun. She was shorter than Miss Babcock, but still a few inches taller than Fran.

“Good morning, Miss Newman,” greeted the socialite with a handshake.

“Please, call me Stella,” interrupted the younger woman.

“Stella,” corrected C.C. “It’s good to finally meet you in person. You have very impressive references for someone as young as you are.”

“Well, I’m very passionate about what I do.” The nurse didn’t expand any further. “Shall we begin?”

Her voice was gentle, but it carried authority and strength. C.C. liked that. She hated having to depend on other people for everything, especially such personal things like taking a shower and going to the bathroom, but if she had to absolutely have someone do that with her… she would rather it be Niles, she realized. Except it couldn’t be Niles. At least not yet. So, it would better be someone who had the confidence and excellence of the young woman in front of her.

Miss Babcock hated wimpy people. Sure, she enjoyed pointing their weakness out (and making them cry in the process), but she couldn’t tolerate incompetence. But most of all, she couldn’t fathom beginning every single day being assisted, in such intimate tasks as cleaning her battered body, by someone frail and susceptible. Furthermore, she wasn’t easily impressed. That’s why exactly why she had chosen Miss Newman‒ Stella ‒because she had managed to.

After being helped out of the bed and into the wheelchair by the health provider, the blonde was wheeled into the bathroom. They would begin by removing her clothes and compression garments so she could take get cleaned. She never imagined that she would be this ecstatic to take a shower. It wasn’t the kind of eagerness one gets after a seemingly endless and disastrous trip that ends with everyone covered in increasingly disgusting layers of sweat, mud, dry blood, and tears. It was more akin to the imperative need to rinse your mouth after applying medicine to your gums and having to wait between 30 minutes and an hour before you can drink any liquid again.

A shower transfer chair had been placed inside the tub that didn’t need to double as a commode chair because Maxwell hadn’t skimmed on costs. She could at least give him that. She had only used the toilet once the day before, mainly because she had held on for as long as she could because she was too embarrassed to ask nanny Fine for help. She had already known that Stella would start working with her not on the day she was released from the hospital, but on the day after that. Fran had been kind enough (or was it guilty enough?) to offer to help with any of her female needs from the beginning, and hesitantly, C.C. had had to accept the help on her first night at the Sheffield home to use the bathroom and change into her pajamas, since she hadn’t wanted to wear them when leaving the hospital. She had claimed that she missed real clothes. She longed to wear her elegant dresses, or at least some of her more expensive and fashionable outfits but didn’t feel ready for them, so she would settle for anything that was more than a single piece of fabric that closed with a couple of tied strings that served only to prevent the garment from falling, and not from opening, as long as she didn’t have to lower herself to leaving the hospital in her pajamas.

This would be her first time showering in the mansion, however, since the day before, she had showered in the en suite of the room she had called hers for the past month. It had been the only shower she had taken since her birthday and of course she hadn’t had the chance to fully enjoy it as it had been mostly to prep her for what showers would look like for her for the next few months, if not more.

It was very awkward to take your clothes off in front of a person you had just met, no matter how polite, gentle, and reassuring the other person was. It was the same at the mansion and the hospital. At least she had known the nurses from the hospital for a longer time. Nonetheless, being rid of her compression garments was liberating, and she could only do it with another person’s help.

Seating on the shower chair was simple enough. Getting into the tub, on the other hand, required that she lift her legs, or at least straightened them, far enough that they wouldn’t hit the tub walls. It was something so simple, why did it feel like a workout? Even worse, why did it hurt like one?

But then, the warm water hit the skin in the front of her body, and it was almost worth it. The comfort the delicious liquid provided was a striking contrast to the discomfort of seating or reclining on the chair. The material of the seat was hard against her scarred body. There was nothing protecting her from the rugged texture intended to prevent a person from slipping. Not a single layer of fabric mediated the encounter, and her skin ached and itched. That’s when it hit her.

She wasn’t healed. Not entirely.

In her mind, hospitals were for the sick. Being released meant you were healed. It meant that whatever ailed you was gone; defeated. Going home meant you were healthy again. In her head, her scarred and disabled body didn’t transfer to outside the hospital‒ it didn’t transfer to the real world. And yet… the scars hadn’t faded, and the marks did not leave; the pain was still present, and the stiffness of her skin and muscles hadn’t buckled. She was still not strong enough to walk, or even stand on her own for more than a few seconds.

Yes, the wounds had closed, the bones were mending, and the risk of infection was as low for her as for any given person. But the marks of the flames had come to stay. They could fade; the pain could lessen, but she could never be the same C.C. she was before her last birthday.

I’m always going to look like this. I am always going to be in this pain. I’m no good for anyone or anything like this. What if I can never walk again? What if I’m never ready to love Niles the way he deserves? Am I always going to be alone? Am I always going to almost have him? What if I can never work again? What will be left of my life if I can’t have neither Niles nor my job?

In the same house, Niles had a tiny yet vibrant smile on his face. His expression was calm and joyous. On the inside, he was hopeful. With Miss Babcock finally home (his), in such good mood, and with such vigor, her reaction (or lack thereof) towards Mister Sheffield’s constant presence in the mansion, and her evidently still present desire toward the butler, maybe the time for a relationship was close. Maybe they could finally have what both had dreamed of their entire lives.

After the family had consumed their breakfast, the children had left for school, and Mister Sheffield had retired to his office, the butler hurried to get the kitchen cleaned and the dish washer loaded before retrieving the plate he had kept inside the warm oven for the non-Sheffield heiress that was now living in the mansion with them. He prepared a tray with the plate, a small mug and teapot, as well as the needed cutlery and a cloth napkin, and headed to her door with a spring in his step and a small smile adorning his features.

Knock, knock.

“Is the night creature ready for breakfast?” he asked jovially as he made his way inside.

“Not hungry,” she mumbled. She was lying on her side and right cheek was pressed against the pillow, which made her voice sound slightly muffled. Little Chester curled behind her knees.

“Oh, don’t tell me you miss hospital food, already,” joked Niles. “I could make something disgusting for you, if you really miss it that much,” he suggested in a light and friendly tone that carried no venom. “I can’t promise that I’ll accomplish such a task, but I’ll try my best.”

“I said I’m not hungry, Niles,” replied C.C. more harshly.

That was enough for the Englishman to know that something was seriously wrong, and it was no time for jokes. So, he moved towards the bed, put the tray on the nightstand, and sat down on the edge of the bed so that they were facing each other.

“What’s wrong, Babs?” The blonde man asked in a gentle voice that was filled with worry.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! Everything is wrong, Niles!” Her face had taken on a red colour and her voice became louder. “Everything with this life is wrong! Everything with my body is wrong! I can’t even take a hot, relaxing shower and actually enjoy it! I can’t go to the bathroom in privacy because my body is so messed up that I can’t even do that alone! I spent almost three months in the hospital, and everything still hurts every time I move! I’ve had to suffer through the horrors of physical therapy for weeks and the most I’ve accomplished is being able to stand up! That’s it! Not one step taken, just standing up!” She hit the bed with her balled fist. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to heal! I was supposed to leave the hospital and be healthy again! The pain was supposed to stop, and I was supposed to stop looking like the Frankenstein monster! Why do I still feel like I can’t fit inside my own skin anymore? Why am I still ugly, and scarred, and weak?” She had tears running down her face by the time she was done speaking. Anger mixed with sorrow reflected on her face.

Niles felt her pain in his own heart. She was suffering and he knew it went far beyond the physical, so he did the only thing he could think of‒ he hugged her. Her face hidden under his arms and chin. Her hands balled and pressed against his chest on both sides of her own cheeks.

“Why can’t this just be over, Niles? Why can’t I just walk again, and enjoy a shower, and be pretty?” She asked in between sobs from her place on his chest. “Why can’t I just go back to my successful career and Park Avenue penthouse with my expensive furniture and my expensive clothes?”

The butler was thankful that she couldn’t see the disappointment he was sure was very clearly written on his face at her desire to go back to her old, empty, luxurious, and if he was honest, pathetic life. It pained him that she was so in love with a luxury that he could never give her. Granted, she already had that, but Niles could never provide it for her. And right in that moment, she couldn’t even enjoy it. Perhaps he had been a fool for thinking that she was already in a position to have a healthy relationship with him (or anyone). He feared that he had been a fool for believing that he was what she truly wanted‒ that he’d be enough for her.

“You’re not a prisoner here, you know?” He said quietly. “You can leave and stay at your penthouse if that’s what you really want.”

She remained in complete silence for a minute. Even her sobs stopped, as if seriously considering the option. Niles clenched his eyes to keep himself from crying. He had assured her he would let her choose what she truly wanted. And if this was it, he would respect it. He wouldn’t plead, and he wouldn’t cry in front of her.

“I can’t,” said Miss Babcock, effectively taking him out of his reverie.

His eyes popped open in confusion. “Why not? I just told you you’re not a prisoner here.”

“Because you wouldn’t be there.”

His heart quickened at her response. “What?” He questioned breathlessly.

“Have you gone deaf already?” There she was, the grumpy C.C. Babcock he knew and loved. She raised her head from her hiding place in his embrace to glare at him yet paused when she had a look at his eyes. “Niles?” She asked carefully. He kept looking at her without uttering a single word. A look of realization appeared on her face after a moment of contemplation. “Wait. Did you think I was going to leave?” …you, she left unsaid. “Niles?”

“It might’ve crossed my mind.”

“Would it have been such a bad thing if I had?”

He let out a weary sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. “You still don’t believe it, do you?”

“What?”

“How much I care about you.” How much I love you.

She looked down and began to play with the covers. “I don’t believe that I’m enough for you.” Her voice was low and full of shame.

“Are you, the Park Avenue heiress, telling me, the old, fat butler, that you’re not enough for me?” His eyebrows went up in his forehead and his voice became just as high in disbelief. When she didn’t meet his gaze, he chuckled and shook his head.

“What are you laughing about, rubber maid?” she challenged defensively.

“The absurdity.”

“Oh, so you think my feelings are absurd?”

“No,” he assured her pointedly. “I think out fears are absurd,” corrected Niles. “Here I am, only a moment ago, thinking that you love high society and rich life so much that you’ve realized it’s not me that you want, and are planning on leaving, and accepting a lonely and miserable future for myself without you. And then you out and tell me that you don’t want to go back to the comfort of your own opulent apartment because I won’t be there but are being miserable because you don’t think you are enough for me. Do you see the absurdity of it?”

She made a non-committal sound. “Money and luxury are the only things that I have to offer you.”

“Only thaaat?” The sarcasm was thick in his voice and his expression was exaggerated and full of mocking.

“Niles, I’m serious!” whined C.C.

“So am I, Babcock. Please don’t tell me you don’t hear how pathetic we both sound.” She made an I-guess-you’re-right face. “It seems that we’re both more messed up than I had thought, so the journey might be longer than we expected. But… it also seems that we both want the same thing even after all that’s happened. So, we might still be able to make it work.”

“And how do you propose we do that, butler boy?” She asked incredulously.

“Well, I for one think therapy might be needed.”

“I’m already in therapy, Sherlock.” She picked up her gaze to look at him her signature glare.

“Yes, but I’m not,” replied Niles with a gentle but matter-of-fact voice.

She looked at him like he had grown a second head. “You want to start therapy?”

“I don’t want to. But I think I need to.”

She stayed silent for a couple of beats, looking deep in thought. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Never been more sure of anything,” he stated in a way that left no room for doubt.

He was looking at her with such intensity, and with such sincerity in his eyes that C.C. had to look away. She still couldn’t believe herself worthy of him. She felt ugly, disabled, and like a big nuance. But he wanted her. She could see in his eyes that he truly did. He was willing to go to therapy to become a better version of himself. He wasn’t just willing to help her grow, he wanted to grow along with her. He made her believe that maybe it wasn’t all worthless.

“That is…” he said when she didn’t give any visible sign that that’s what she wanted. “…if you’ll have me?”

“Ok, butler boy.” Her voice was only a whisper, but it was sweet and tender.

He smiled all the way to his eyes. “Would you like to eat something now?”

She shook her head from side to side with an exhausted expression. “No. I’m too tired to eat right now.”

She readjusted herself on the pillows and patted the spot next to her for Niles to occupy. He took his shoes off and happily complied, half seating against the headboard and wrapping his left arm around her shoulders as she snuggled into his side.

“Where’s the nurse?” questioned Niles out loud after a while of cuddling.

“I sent her home,” mumbled C.C.

“Why?”

“I wanted to be alone.”

“Do you still want to be alone?”

“If you leave right now, I’ll have Maxwell fire you.”

He chuckled. “Got it.”

Chapter Text

The nurse had come back later that afternoon, when she knew her patient would be back from her physical therapy session (and most likely fed as well), to check on C.C. She had reassured Niles about Miss Babcock having sent her home. She had quite a bit of experience with victims of different types of accidents and procedures and knew how difficult the adjustment could sometimes be. She knew not to take their outbursts at heart, and that they usually only needed a few hours to cool down after most emotional displays.

She had stayed until early evening, when she had taught Fran how to effectively assist C.C. with her night routine. Gracie, being the sweet and caring person that she was, had asked to be present as well in case there was ever the need for female assistance and her nanny was not available. The sweet girl said they could even take turns sometimes to make it easier on Miss Fine. She had, after all, promised Miss Babcock to be her family.

They all knew Grace was still too young and small to lift her father’s business partner, and maybe even to help her put on her compression garments, but she could aid her with changing clothes and helping her to the bathroom, since the older woman could already stand up from the chair and onto the toilet. Plus, it didn’t hurt to have the knowledge.

Having skipped breakfast, and after all the movement and effort physiotherapy took, Niles’ favourite businesswoman had worked an appetite by lunch. And a big one, if the growling of her stomach was any indication.

“What would the beast like to be fed? After all, you earned it by not devouring any of the doctors or other patients during your session today.”

The butler had wheeled her into the kitchen with him instead of directly into her room. Her little Pomeranian had followed behind and curled up under the footrest of the woman’s wheelchair. The man thought it would do her good to not completely isolate herself in her alcove. Plus, he missed having her there. Maybe it would also provide a bit of normalcy to her routine.

“I’ll eat you if you keep it up, toilet scrub,” was C.C.’s dry reply.

Niles inched toward her face, having to lean down to be eye level with her and grinning evilly the entire time, he said in a gruff voice, “My pleasure.” Each word was enunciated slowly and clearly with the full intention to provoke.

For a moment, the Babcock heiress simply maintained eye contact with him. One corner of her lips slowly rose into a side smirk that rivaled her counterpart’s, and at that moment, he could swear that her old frenemy was back in all her glory.

Sadly, the seemingly invincible tall, powerful, and rich woman was brought down by one simple choice‒ what to eat. It wasn’t a lack of hunger, quite the contrary in fact; it was that nothing sounded appealing. Trying to be helpful, the blonde man pulled out everything in the fridge, showing item by item to her and naming every way he could think to prepare what they’d pulled out and placed on the counter.

After a lot of hesitation and expressions of disgust on her part, the low sugar making the already moody woman crankier and more desperate, she settled on a cereal that consisted of corn flakes and pecans. Settled being the key word.

She sat in front of the kitchen table with her bowl of cereal and milk while Niles prepared lunch for Mr. Sheffield and Ms. Fine. She started to push the slowly sogging flakes around her bowl with the spoon, hoping that she could at least satiate her hunger, even if she didn’t fully enjoy it. It just looked so boring, but at least not as nauseating as the rest of the food had.

She saw one on the butler’s arms extend next to and past her to deposit a bottle of water in front of her. She didn’t even bother to nod, let alone thank him. She took a deep breath and ventured herself into the task at hand.

The first spoonful was okay, even the second and third where fine. The fourth tasted overwhelmingly sweet, and the fifth filled her mouth with a bitter aftertaste that subsequently turned the sweet and creamy milk into a disgustingly sour liquid that seemed to stick to her tongue, palate, and esophagus, making her stomach churn and summon a fit of nausea. The producer huffed and let go of her spoon to reach for the water bottle and take a big gulp in the hopes that it would wash away the nastiness from her mouth and stomach so she could enjoy, or at least tolerate, the rest of her much-needed meal.

It worked… the first time. There was no such luck after the next bite. Not even half of the water contained in the bottle was able to rid her mouth of the taste of spoiled milk and reflux. And, to make it worse, her stomach felt like it was a small child throwing a tantrum by contracting every muscle in its body very tightly and staying like that until it needed to breath.

Her spoon was dropped on the table in frustration, making the small dog at her feet look up in alarm at the loud sound. She was starved, for heaven’s sake! She was doing physiotherapy and trying to heal! Her body needed the sustenance! Why couldn’t it simply accept it?

The next day, C.C. had woken up feeling somewhat better. Not happy, and sore, very sore, but at least her stomach wasn’t acting up. She could hear her favourite Brit going about and knew the nurse would arrive every minute. Which meant she would have to shower very soon. Shower. How could something she had been so excited for turn out so dreadful? She let out a long, suffering sigh and waited for the sound of the doorbell.

“It won’t always hurt like this, you know?” Stella quipped once both women were inside the en-suite bathroom.

“What do you know about the pain of second-degree burns?” C.C.’s voice wasn’t harsh or loud but laced with a deeply rooted sadness and underlying bitterness.

“You said it yourself; I have a lot of experience with this type of thing,” replied the nurse unaffected.

Unconvinced, the blonde sat in silence while the nurse helped her remove her compression top. She turned her head backwards to look into the mirror and get a glimpse of her scarred back. The posterior part of her chair was in the way, but what she saw was enough to bring tears to her eyes. It was the first time that she saw her own back since the incident, she realized. She had seen the burns on her arms and part of those on her legs back at the hospital when the nurses changed her bandages and cleaned the area every morning, but not her back. She needed a large mirror for that. Or at least one placed just low enough to catch her reflection while she sat on her chair. She also needed to be naked from the waist up while she looked at it. A combination that had not been readily available for her during her stay in the medical institution.

“They won’t always look like that, either,” said the other woman. It sounded like a promise, one that C.C. was not ready to believe.

“Have you ever been burned, Miss Newman?” asked C.C. Her voice full of anger and venom. Her eyes still glued to her own image in the mirror.

“No,” she replied plainly. “…but my mom has.”

C.C. looked up to see the brunette’s eyes in the reflection. Her own face relaxed somewhat at the nurse’s words, and she deflated. Stella continued her work of removing the producer’s clothes as if nothing had happened. She was a mystery to the blonde. How could this woman remain so calm and unaffected after such a comment, such accusation, and bitterness? It made Miss Babcock want to scream! But most of all, it filled her with intrigue.

“Is that why you chose to do this for a living?” asked the socialite with a frown of curiosity and a voice so small that made her sound like a scolded child.

“In part.” Her voice didn’t have an ounce of anger, not even condescension, only sympathy. “I truly love what I do, but it was my mom’s accident that made me wish for a more personal approach than what you can have inside the hospital.”

C.C. didn’t say a word, only nodded in response and casted her gaze down. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled after a moment of silence.

“I get it; you’re in pain.”

“I am in pain, but I don’t think you get it.”

The nurse stood up from her crouching position and helped Miss Babcock to her feet, aided by the walker. When she left the wheelchair behind, she felt completely exposed. She was naked… and so was her body. She hated the sensation. It made her feel small and vulnerable. Weak, even.

When the cleaning and dressing process was done and C.C. was back in her room, she looked at the clock and noticed surprised than the whole thing, which had felt like long hours for her, had, in reality, taken only twenty minutes. The actual shower had been the tiniest bit less horrible than the first one she had taken post-hospitalization. Could it be that she hadn’t expected as much and hence hadn’t been disappointed? Perhaps. Seeing her scars in the mirror, on the other hand, had been quite the emotional blow.

“Do you need help with your hair?” asked Miss Newman once her patient was back on her bed, under the covers, and with her leg brace on.

“I think I can manage.” Stella nodded. “Thank you,” added C.C. and Stella smiled.

“You’re welcome, Miss Babcock.”

There was nothing over sentimental in her words or her actions, and yet there was something warm and sincere about her. Something… genuine. It reminded her of nanny Fine, but in a more discreet and mellow way. She wasn’t a rival. She didn’t feel threatened by her (unlike by the Yiddish woman), no. She felt something she couldn’t quite pinpoint; she liked her at the same time she was infuriated by how calm and serene she was, as if nothing affected her. Like she knew who she was and nothing that anyone said or did could change it. C.C. wanted that.

She began drying her own wet hair with the dryer that had been plugged next to her bed and rested on her nightstand, while her nurse tidied up the bathroom. The front part required some effort, but to her demise, the sides and back of her head required more arm and back movement that was just too much for her. She could let it airdry, but she would be cold (she had already tried that the day before). She could leave it uncombed, but it wouldn’t look good, and she wouldn’t feel good. She groaned loudly and threw the blow dryer in front of her with what little strength she had, yanking the cable from the socket, knowing that she had to depend on others for yet another simple thing.

There was nothing new about physical therapy, nothing exciting. She had to do the same boring exercises she had been doing for who knows how long, yet she was still weak and sore. Very sore. How could something so boring and ordinary be so painful? But more importantly, why wasn’t she getting stronger? Why wasn’t she moving faster and with less discomfort? The only thing she had to look forward to, was more pain.

Chapter Text

She was back at the mansion, which she refused to call home. It was the place she had wanted to call her own for so long, and now that she lived in it, she wasn’t sure she could ever call it that. It wasn’t hers, and it never would be. It was Maxwell’s, and she didn’t want him. He had promised to do better, and where was he? Cowering in his office so he wouldn’t have to face her. At least she didn’t have to face him either. He had promised to stay out of her way, after all. At the very least he was keeping that promise. But if it weren’t for Niles, she would leave. 

A mild ache was growing in her head while she laid on the couch with her back and head propped up by throw pillows while she waited for Niles to get back from loading the dishwasher. Her neck was exhausted from carrying her own head. The muscles in her back felt tight and weak, and her right leg had been tingling all day.

Miss Babcock heard the sound of Niles’ feet advancing on the floor towards the living room and prepared for him to reach the door. Once it opened, she smiled. C.C. rolled her head to look at him without picking it up from its fluffy support.

“Took you… long ‘nough. Y’r g’tting ‘ld.” The words were slurred, and her eyes appeared to be everywhere but on him even if her lips sported a perfectly teasing grin.

The butler worried, but before he had a chance to so much as ask if she was okay, he saw her roll onto the floor with a thud and start thrashing.

“Miss Babcock!” he called out as he ran towards her.

The older Brit had only just knelt next to her shaking body when both Maxwell and Miss Fine came running from the office, alarmed by the heavy, dull sound and the butler’s exclamation. Niles was bending the blonde’s left knee and rolling her over towards him when he heard the other two people in the room gasping from behind the two armchairs at his back.

“What happened?!”

“Is she alright?!” They asked in unison.

“She’s having a seizure,” informed Maxwell’s oldest friend. He was trying to appear collected and keep his own worry at bay. They could hear it in his voice.

“Why? Did something happen to… trigger this?” questioned the younger of the two men, waving his hands at the scene in complete shock.

“I don’t know, sir. I was in the kitchen for a matter of minutes. I was just walking back here when she tried to tease me about being old and slow, but she was slurring and looking… I don’t know, unwell. I was about to ask if she was okay when she fell from the couch; that’s why I yelled. Then she began convulsing, and that’s when you walked in.”

“But is… is she going to be okay?” asked a very distraught Mister Sheffield. Niles couldn’t see him, but if he was trying to appear the slightest bit calm, he was doing an awful job.

“I‒ I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” admitted the butler. “Her eyes are open, so she might still be conscious. I’ve already put her in the recovery position and placed a pillow under her head.”

“But is there anything we can do to help?” asked the loud nanny.

“Just stay back and give her some space.”

“Okay, we‒ we can do that,” assured a panicking Fran. “Right, Mister Sheffield?”

“Yes… yes, we can stay back here until the seizure stops…” He sounded unconvincing. “It will stop, right?”

“Yes,” assured the Englishman currently kneeling on the floor.

“Why isn’t it stopping, then?” demanded a disturbed Maxwell.

“Oh, will you stop whining?! I’m trying to work here!”

“Sorry,” apologized the nanny and the producer childishly.

The room fell into a tense silence while Niles spoke soft, reassuring words to Miss Babcock until the thrashing stopped.

“It’s okay,” whispered the butler as he repeatedly smoothed her hair with his hand. “It’s over now. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here.” C.C.’s eyes were full of unshed tears and her breathing was laboured. “Can you hear me?” he asked gently. She closed her eyes but nodded in response. He let out a breath of relief. “Let’s get you to sit up, shall we?” Her next nod was hesitant, like she knew she needed to but didn’t want to.

Once she was back up on the couch (this time seated with her feet on the floor), Niles cupped her head with his strong hands. Him kneeling in front of her. “Did you hit yourself anywhere?”

She thought for a moment assessing her own body. “My leg hurts.” She gestured toward her right leg.

“Anything else?” She shook her head no. “How about your head? Does that hurt?”

“No,” she replied after a moment of consideration.

“Good.” Niles offered a small, reassuring smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she confessed.

“Do you want to remain here?” she shook her head from side to side. “Do you want to go back to bed?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then. Let’s get you back to bed.” With that, he stood up from his crouching position and walked to her wheelchair to make sure the brake was in place.

While he was at it, Mister Sheffield and nanny Fine, who had remained silently observing the whole episode from their place in front of the double doors to the hallway, broke the silence.

“Are you okay, C.C.?” asked a somewhat calmer, yet appalled Maxwell.

The blonde woman squinted her eyes. “I think so.”

“Do you need anything, Miss Babcock?” queried Fran.

“I‒ don’t know.”

“It’s alright,” interjected Niles calmly. “I’ll make sure she has what she needs. And right now, that’s rest.”

“Yes, yes. Of course,” said Mister Sheffield. “Just… let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”

“Yeah, we’re right here for ya, Miss Babcock!” Yelled Fran as he rolled the socialite to her room. “Rest well!”

After a couple of hours of soothing C.C. (and himself) by holding her in his arms and making small talk, her eyelids began to get heavy. He sat on top of the covers she had cocooned herself with, observing her from above. The time for him to start on dinner was getting near, but he was hesitant to leave her.

“Niles?” Her voice was just above a whisper.

“Mhm?”

“I’m falling asleep,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Oh, what would I ever do without your wisdom, Miss Babcock?” he asked with slight sarcasm.

His chest was slapped by her pale and slender hand. He gently laughed down at her. Her eyes hadn’t even opened for the assault, and yet she had hit the mark perfectly. It amused him at the same time that it filled his heart with tenderness. He just loved how fierce she was, but he loved even more when she let him take care of her.

“I meant that you can stop stressing about it and go make dinner while I sleep.”

“You got a lot of nerve lecturing me about stress, Babs,” replied Niles pointedly.

“Says the man who hasn’t stopped fidgeting for the past hour when he’s supposed to be helping me relax.”

“Says the woman who has been stressing so much about everything for the past couple of days that she just had a seizure.”

“I’ll give you something else to stress about if you don’t let me sleep right now.”

“Oh, yeah? And just how do you intend to do that right now? Snoring ‘till I break?”

“Oh, shut up.”

He snickered and simply looked at her exhausted form for a moment. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” She nodded sleepily. “Okay, then.” He leaned in to place a comforting kiss on her forehead and stood up. “Scream if you need anything,” he joked lightly.

Her eyes were still closed, but she chuckled, nonetheless. And with that, she fell asleep, feeling like absolute trash but with a small smile still adorning her beautiful, pale face.

Chapter Text

“Hi, Mistah Sheffield! What are you so pensive about?” greeted Fran while waltzing into his office like it was hers. She paused at herself. “Look at me using the big words like I’m Gracie or something.”

The widower smiled distantly. “Yes, she’s rather smart. Isn’t she?” He shook his head rapidly to clear his thoughts. “I was just thinking about the whole seizure ordeal and how well Niles managed the situation,” he provided in a very thoughtful way.

“Oh, he was wonderful, that Niles! You know, he is very good at taking care of her.” She emphasized a bit exaggerated to see if her boss would catch on her hidden meaning. She had been wanting to talk about what was happening between the two blondes, but Niles had made her promise that she would keep it a secret. If the other person already knew, however… would it really count as revealing his secret?

He nodded distantly. “I never thought he had it in him. I mean, he’s always been good at taking care of others‒ obviously‒ but I never imagined that he’d take such good care of C.C. I know they’re… friends, if you can even call them that, but they were always at each other’s throats. And yet, he was almost… gentle with her,” he finished. His face showing how hard of a time he was having trying to wrap his mind around it.

“Oh, please! Don’t tell me you don’t see it!” the nanny exclaimed in desperation.

“See what?”

“Oh, you Brits might be handsome, but I swear you can be so dense sometimes!”

“And what exactly am I being dense about, Miss Fine?” questioned Max defensively.

“They don’t hate each other! They never did!” The exaggerated movement of her hands emphasizing her message.

“I know they don’t hate each other! I just said they were friends!” he exclaimed. As if that proved he wasn’t as unaware as everyone seemed to believe.

The nanny rolled her eyes at him in a way that might’ve made Miss Babcock… pleased. “Oy! You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” he whined.

“You know what? Forget it. I promised I wouldn’t say anything, anyway.”

She had only taken a couple of steps towards the door, thinking the conversation had been effectively dismissed, when Maxwell’s voice stopped her. “Do you believe they could… have feeling for each other?” he asked with hesitation, grimacing at the possibility of his other two employees wanting a relationship with each other after so many years of pranks and insults.

“See? That wasn’t so hard to figure out, was it?” She shook her head in annoyance.

The producer looked slightly offended at that. “Well, I don’t see it,” he confessed stubbornly. “but Sara did. I always thought it was madness! I mean, they’re Niles and C.C. for heaven’s sake! Always bickering, and making fun of the other, and yelling at each other! It’s crazy! Then there’s the whole…” he made a face of disgust and unintelligible mimicking with his hands. “…deal with C.C. trying to… you know… win me over, or whatever.”

“Well, if they’ve really had feelings for each other since before Sara died, then it was a really low blow on Miss Babcock’s part, ‘cause you don’t do that to the man you’ve just confessed your feelings to‒ I mean… if they ever confessed their feelings,” mended Fran, attempting to hide her knowledge about the history between the butler and the blonde heiress.

“If they do have feelings for each other, and if they had been brave enough to confess them to each other, wouldn’t they be together by now?”

“Life isn’t always that easy, Mistah Sheffield.”

“Oh, please! If they both feel the same, why not just come out and say it instead of pathetically dancing around each other and‒” he turned around to see Ms. Fine looking at him with eyes that directed his own question at himself. “You know what? You’re right, Miss Fine; it’s much more complicated than that.” And with that, he left the office in a hurry before she could rebuke him.

After 4 entire weeks of standing up without going anywhere and ridiculous workouts that made her hungrier than they made her strong, C.C. was promised by her physiotherapist that she'd be taking her first post-incident steps. Granted, it hadn't all been meaningless wait‒ no. They had been working on building strength and stability, so she wouldn't face-plant on her first try (which she was very thankful for). Still, the rich woman had never been known for her patience. She just wanted to grab onto the double rail and feel her own two feet carrying her forward again, and she wanted it now. Or better yet, go anywhere, whenever she wanted, and without wheelchairs, walkers, or people to depend on. It had been ages! (Months, technically, but still too long).

She had noticed, though, the increased strength of her upper body. Not only was she able to pull herself up with more ease (which also required significant lower-body strength), she could also dry her own hair! There had been no elaborated updos yet, or any kind of hair work beyond drying it for that matter (she was too tired once that was done), but she could at least do it without needing anyone else. All in all, it was a win.

She had also noticed that her eyebrows had begun to grow back. They looked… weird, and uneven. But at least she had (almost) two instead of just half, now. Of course, that didn’t have anything to do with physiotherapy, but it was still progress‒ evident and (somewhat) measurable progress.

On the other hand, she was still trying to figure out Stella, or at least decide whether she trusted her or not.

“I thought you liked her,” said Niles very taken aback when the socialite had confessed to him that she was considering firing the nurse and hiring someone different.

She scrunched her face and fists in exasperation. “I do! But she’s so calm, and collected and‒”

“And you’re not,” finished Niles with an amused smile.

She huffed. “And I’m not,” said a frustrated C.C.

How could he read her so easily?

“Maybe…” the butler rose his eyebrows, pouted his lips, and shook his head as if what he was about to suggest was either taking a lot of thought, or it was a really big shot. “…if you spent less energy being jealous and grumpy about it, you could‒ I don’t know‒ enjoy it?” His eyes stared at hers with intense sarcasm and a bit of accusation.

She hated to admit it, but he had been right. So, she had agreed to give the nurse more time and have a better attitude towards her. It had been extremely hard at first. Not to prove Niles’ comments about being the wicked witch, but she could’ve gone green with envy at the other woman’s serenity and contentedness. Nonetheless, the nosy butler kept encouraging to push through that (as had as her therapist), and she now found herself enjoying Stella’s company (and personality) more and more.

But now, she was on her way to the hospital for her (achingly) awaited session. Niles was driving, of course. She loved having him accompany her to all her medical appointments (not that she had any other kind), and she loved it when he drove her‒ she felt safe with him behind the wheel‒ she just wished he could go a little bit faster… or a lot.

C.C. was so eager to get inside that the moment he parked the car, she opened the door without waiting for him. Niles saw it and rushed to her side.

“Tell me, Babs. What exactly did you have planned for after you opened the door and, let’s say you were actually able to, got out of the car?”

“You wouldn’t have run with such hurry if you didn’t think I was capable,” defended the producer.

“Oh, believe me, I know you’re capable… of injuring yourself even further because you’re unable to be patient,” scolded the butler.

“Patience is for the weak,” she said dismissively, sounding every bit the New York heiress.

“And yet… it takes quite a bit of strength, doesn’t it?” He challenged.

She was growing impatient by the second. “Not as much as not punching your pretty little face right now, rubber maid, so move it.”

“Oh, you think I’m pretty?” He asked smugly, deliberately delaying them. They were a few minutes early for the appointment, anyway. He would never deprive her of such a special and anticipated moment, but he would certainly toy with her as much as he could and watch her become restless.

She let out a huff and adverted her gaze from him. “Whatever… butler boy.” The slight raise of colour of her cheeks betraying her. “Now move your British butt and get me to my appointment before I sue you.”

Miss Babcock leg wouldn’t stop moving up and down while her physiotherapist talked. She was looking at him, but none of his words were being registered. She was there for one thing, and one thing only, and it certainly wasn’t to talk.

When she was finally wheeled toward the parallel bars, her heart skipped a beat in anticipation. She was ready to leap forward before Niles even set the break of her chair.

“I know you’re eager,” the doctor said when giving her instructions, “but please take your time and listen to your body. I know recovery is slow, but it’ll be even slower if you overstrain and injure yourself. So, if you start feeling weak or unsteady‒”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be careful and let you know if I need help.” C.C. rolled her eyes at him, but the warning had hit its intended mark.

“Ok, now. Grab onto a bar with each hand and slowly‒ and carefully‒ pull yourself up.” The impatient woman did as instructed and was surprised at how much stronger she felt compared to when she was discharged from the hospital. “Now, take a deep breath.” When she did, the socialite heard Niles mirror her own actions.

What’s he so nervous about? I’m the one learning how to walk again. She thought.

How many centuries does one have to live to forget how to do that? She heard Niles asking in her head.

“Remember to be mindful of your right leg, ok? There will be some discomfort, so put only enough weight on it as not to cause more pain.” She nodded. “Ready?” She gave the doctor another determined nod and felt Niles’ hand squeezing her own. “Go.”

C.C. grabbed onto the bars for dear life feeling a mixture of excitement and fear, but after only a beat, she willed her right knee to bend and lift slightly enough from the floor to travel forward. Her foot landed quite bluntly on the floor, but once she felt sure that her leg would not buckle under her, the other foot followed. And just like that, shaky step by shaky step, Miss Babcock walked the entire length of the railing.

“How are you feeling? Brave enough to walk back?” asked the doctor with a knowing smile once she had reached the other end, where Niles was now waiting for her with watery eyes. The woman nodded happily in response, not caring about her labored breathing. “Let go of the right bar and turn your body to the left and grab onto the other bar,” instructed the therapist.

She tried to but before she could grab onto the other rail, she lost her balance. Had it not been for the butler’s strong arms catching her, she would have fallen and possibly hit herself with the metal bars.

“Are you okay?” Niles asked visibly worried.

“Yeah, I just… lost my balance for a moment,” she replied breathlessly.

“Are you sure you’re not just drunk?” questioned the blonde man trying to lighten the tension.

A chuckle escaped her mouth. “I wish.”

“So, can I let go now, or are you planning another stay at the hospital soon?”

C.C. groaned. “Don’t even mention it.”

Niles let her out of his arms but kept them up at both of her sides in case she lost her footing again and he needed to act quickly. Miss Babcock didn’t need to make use of the extra help, though. She was determined to conquer this challenge, no matter how tired and out of breath she already was; she was going to reach her wheelchair all on her own and prove to everyone that she could be an independent woman again. She was strong and she was capable.

When she did reach her starting point, both men grabbed onto her arms and helped her pivot her body so she could seat in her chair again. She was exhausted and dripping with sweat, but a sense of victory was running through her veins.

When they went out of the medical building, C.C. felt the gentle breeze blowing coldly on her face but felt the heat of the bright sun warming her body in a delicious way. She had missed it‒ she had missed the warmth.

 Winter was almost over, which meant it would be warming up soon.  Maybe once her body could stand the weather again, she’d be brave enough to go Central Park and take a moment to simply enjoy. No morning run to stay in shape, and certainly no rush. Only her and Niles breathing the fresh air in.

Chapter Text

The butler and the socialite made it back to the mansion just in time to prepare lunch. Mister Sheffield had made it a habit to have his midday meal at his office, where he would sometimes be accompanied by Miss Fine. So, the two blondes had sort of claimed that chunk of time as their own. They had already fallen into a routine, even if the outcome from C.C.’s physical therapy was unpredictable.

Niles prepared enough salad with mixed greens, feta cheese, and blueberries to accompany everyone’s sandwiches, and served Italian dressing into small saucer before serving it all very nicely in each plate. He was working on that when the door to the kitchen swung open, allowing a big-haired woman in high heels in.

“Miss Babcock! How did your big day in therapy go?”

A big smile formed on the blonde and she sat up taller from her place behind the table. “Oh, it was great! I’ve been dying to start walking again!”

“Oh-oh! I hope you’re not ready to start chasing me and the kids around the house yet,” joked Fran as she elbowed the rich woman playfully.

“Soon, nanny Fine,” She replied with a smirk. “Soon.”

“Well, I’m very happy for you, Miss Babcock.”

“Thanks.”

“Niles, Mister Sheffield wants to know when lunch’s gonna be ready.”

“I am just finishing here, Miss Fine. Why don’t you go take a seat and I’ll be right behind you with both of your plates.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll bring the plates so you and Miss Babcock can seat down and grab a bite yourselves. You look like you could use it.”

“Are you sure, Miss Fine?”

“Of course! Now seat down and enjoy your meal.” She leaned towards the butler, put a hand next to her mouth, and whispered, “…and the company.” The nanny gave Niles what she believed was a discreet wink and made her way out of the kitchen with her and Maxwell’s lunches on a platter.

“Smooth,” the British man heard Miss Babcock comment sarcastically.

He chuckled. “Mm-hm… like sandpaper,” he agreed with just as much sarcasm and a roll of his eyes before bringing the remaining two plates to the small kitchen table and taking a seat next to her.

As C.C. sat in comfortable silence with the butler, both of them enjoying their food and keeping each other company, the adrenaline in her body began to dissipate, and soon, the exhaustion came crushing down on her. By the time their plates had been cleared, her eyelids had become heavy. The British man had stood from his seat and grabbed the empty plates to place inside the dishwasher. He was slightly amused at how quickly she had devoured her meal and how droopy she had become afterwards. She reminded him of a toddler.

“I’ll go see if Mister Sheffield and Miss Fine are done with their food, so I can retrieve their dirty dishes, and be back in a moment.”

“Mm-hm” was her only response.

“Do you need anything before I go?”

“Mm-m.” She slowly moved her head from side to side as her chin rested on her knuckles, and her elbow on the table. Her eyes were already closed.

Niles had expected to find the blonde woman asleep on the kitchen table when he came back. He was kind of looking forward to it, even. He thought about how funny and cute she would look. Maybe, if she was deep enough in her sleep, he could get the camera and snap a few photographs. However, when Niles re-entered the kitchen, he found her slightly more awake than before, and with a look of great discomfort.

In the two minutes that he had been away, her entire body had began to ache. It was not a sudden, sharp pain, but more of a cooling down and becoming very, very heavy, and stiff sensation. What began as an uncomfortable itch on her skin quickly developed into a burn.

“Miss Babcock, are you okay?” he asked cautiously at the sight of her sunken eyes. “You look pale.” He felt her forehead with the back of his hand in worry.

“I feel like a road roller just ran me over,” she grumbled in distress.

“Well, you certainly look like one did,” he tried only half joking.

“Very funny,” she replied dryly. Her tone suggesting how drained she was.

“Bed?” he suggested, and she nodded sleepily at him.

He wheeled her back to her room and helped her up. Her movements were stiff and slower than usual. She almost looked like she didn’t want to touch the floor, even though she was already on her feet, so the man scooped her up in his arms and hear a whimper escape her throat. The breath left his lungs when her arms immediately snaked around his shoulders, and she snuggled her head in the crook of his neck like it was the most natural thing.

“Hey, Babs?”

“Mm?”

“Are you in pain?”

He felt her nodding her head up and down next to his neck. He then placed her on the bed with as special carefulness and watched her struggle to find a comfortable position for a while, as his mind was going a mile an hour trying to find a solution to her affliction.

“I’ll call the doctor to see if you can have any more painkillers.”

“He better say yes, or I’m suing him,” he heard her groan as he made his way out of the room to get the cordless and make the call.

The butler was back in less than ten minutes. This time, with a tray containing a glass of water and a small plate that appeared to be empty from her perspective. Niles walked closer until he was standing right in front of her nightstand and placed the tray there.

“Here.” He offered her the drink. “The doctor said you can have half of a pill,” he explained while presenting her with the small plate so she could take the already halved medicine. “…and I didn’t even have to tell him about your threat.”

“Well, you should’ve. Maybe I would’ve gotten the entire thing.”

The blue-eyes man snickered in amusement at her sassiness. It was then that he noticed her rearranging the pillow that she usually had under her right leg with both of her feet.

“Are you making biscuits with your feet now? I didn’t know lionesses did that as well.”

“I want it to be under both of my legs.”

“I’ll be right back,” he announced as he turned to leave. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“You just love that joke, don’t you, rubber maid?”

“Well, I have to make use of it while I can. After all, it’s not going to last for much longer.” He winked her eye at her before crossing the doorway.

He came back with a couple of pillows that C.C. guessed were from another guest room, and without saying a word, placed one under each leg. He also took the flatter pillow to put in the dryer to make it fluffy again.

“Niles, did something go wrong at C.C.’s appointment today?” asked Mister Sheffield somewhat worried an hour after dinner.

“Quite the opposite, sir. In fact, it went so splendidly that she took her first steps since the fire.”

“Really?” Maxwell’s face lit up from his place behind the desk.

“Yes. She was quite proud of herself,” affirmed Niles looking proud himself.

“Well, that’s wonderful news, old man.”

“Is there any particular reason why you’re asking, sir?”

“Well, I haven’t heard C.C. around the house since you too came back from the hospital. And you usually spend more time with her. I guess I was just worried that you two were… angry at each other, or something like that. I mean, she’s already angry at me. And I don’t blame her‒ I really have been a‒”

“‒putz,” finished the butler.

The producer nodded in silent agreement. “And I’m not sure that she’s quite forgiven Miss Fine just yet, either, so we don’t need her angry at anyone else in this house.”

“I can assure you it’s nothing like that, sir. She’s just… feeling a little under the weather.”

“Poor, C.C. I hope she’s not coming down with anything.”

“I believe the walking that she did today took a big toll on her.”

“Are you sure it’s not something more serious?”

“Yes, yes. I called her doctor, and he said it’s completely normal after what she’s been through. He said it’s going to take a bit of time for her body to get used to it, and that I could give her half of another tablet to help with the pain.”

“That’s… good, right? I mean, not that she’s in pain, of course, but it being normal and knowing that it’ll get better in time. It means she’s… healing, right?” The brunette man sounded hopeful, yet hesitant.

The older of the two friends gave a half-hearted nod. “Oh, that reminds me, sir; I have an appointment tomorrow after dinner. I’ll be leaving once Miss Newman gets here.”

“Yes, of course, old man.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll go check on Miss Babcock now.”

Niles went to Miss Babcock’s room every hour to check on her, and he found her deep in sleep every time without failure. It wasn’t until eight p.m., when the kids retired to their rooms and after his boss had prepared and drank his own cup of tea before retiring himself, when Niles went to his room to change his work clothes for comfy pajamas and robe and exchanged his shinny black shoes for warm slippers, that he decided to check on the convalescent woman one last time before calling it a day.

He was surprised to find her already waking up. She was bleary eyed and drowsy but seated upright on the bed and lightly stretching.

Niles chuckled at her. “Figures.”

“What does?” she yawned.

“That you would spend all day sleeping and only wake up when it’s dark, it’s night, and everyone else has retired for the day. Guess your true self had to come out at some point.”

There was a sly, knowing smile on her face. “Missed me, didn’t you?” The witty man shrugged his shoulders and made a gesture of disinterest. “Nice robe. Is that your new uniform?” Teased C.C.

“More like my I’m-off-the-clock reminder.”

“Is it really that late?”

“Yes, you really slept the entire afternoon,” stated the butler as he sat on the bed facing her. “For a moment there, I thought the next millennia of peace had finally arrived,” he added with mock seriousness. She only rolled her eyes in response, which made him smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

“Well do you have any blood type preferences, or will anything do?”

“Oh, wow, another vampire joke,” C.C. said dryly. “You really must’ve been worried.”

“I might have… taken some pause when you didn’t wake up in time for dinner. But it was only out of surprise,” he said unconvincingly.

“Mm-hm,” she replied sarcastically, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

He offered his boyish smile that she so loved. “Come on. I’ll reheat some leftovers for you.”

“I thought you said your shift was over,” she observed genuinely confused.

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, who’s going to pay you for doing this?”

“Let’s just say this one’s on me, Miss Babcock.” The smile was back. He was looking at her with such intensity and tenderness she felt the temperature of the room rising and the quietness that followed deafening.

“What about Stella?” piqued C.C. swallowing hard and breaking the heavy silence.

“Hmm?” asked Niles still entranced.

“My nurse,” explained the businesswoman. “Didn’t she come back after dinner?”

“Right.” He tried to clear his head and focus on the conversation. “She thought it best to not disturb you and let you sleep as much as possible. Said to call her if you woke up and needed help with anything. So, shall I give her a call?”

“No, it’s kind of late, you’re already in your pajamas, and I don’t want to make her drive here, or take the train, or whatever, just to take a grown up to the bathroom,” she dismissed.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” questioned the English man pointedly.

“I can wait ‘till the morning.”

“Oh, no, you can’t,” said the man as he got up from the bed and turned towards the door.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“If you won’t call the nurse, at least let me get Miss Fine. I’m sure she won’t mind helping you with your private business while I heat you up a plate of food,” explained Niles.

“Like you said, it’s my private business, and I know I can wait until morning,” she responded with some irritation.

“You mean you’ve done it before?”

“Well, it’s not like I can get up on my own in the middle of the night and just go.”

“So, you only hold back at night?” She didn’t reply. “Miss Babcock?” He pressed.

“Niles?” She answered unyielding.

“Oh, you stubborn woman! Have you been holding up on going to the bathroom because you don’t want to what? bother other people?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t wish to include everybody in my private business,” she spat.

The kind man took a deep breath. “Look, I know you don’t like depending on others, especially when it comes to such personal aspects like… well, personal hygiene. But you just need to give your body the time it needs to heal! And you have to let us help.”

“But it’s so humiliating, Niles! I’m a grown woman, with power and connections, and I need someone to help me to the stupid toilet!”

“I know,” he placated sadly as he sat back down next to her. “But it’s only for the time being. You’ll need less and less help as you regain your strength and mobility. And then, you’ll be able to do all kinds of vain and terrifying things like the uptight heiress you are. You’ll get to walk, you’ll get to travel, and you’ll get to chase innocent children through into the darkness like you always have,” promised the butler, earning a small snicker from her. “But you gotta let us help.”

She closed her eyes and let out a weary sigh. “I really hate it.”

“I know. I hate it, too,” he admitted quietly.

After a long silence, C.C.’s stomach grumbled. “Well, are you going to help me to the kitchen and heat me some food, or do I need to call Stella for that as well?”

“Right,” said Niles as he stood up from the bed. “But I’m getting Miss Fine first.”

She let her head hit the headboard behind her and groaned loudly. “I hate you.”