The weak afternoon light dimmed and soon they were reading together by the fireplace, coffee steaming near by. Penelope surrounded herself with as many drawings and diagrams as she could find, as she read along through the books she would often stop and ask Harper to point out what a word meant, and he would happily oblige. They stayed like this well into the evening, sometimes simply staring into the fire enjoying its warmth and one another's company.
It was late and Harper had begun to drift, nearby Penelope was still absorbed in his books. It was easy for Harper’s tired mind to forget to strange events that had brought them here, to pretend that every night could be like this. However, Harper’s reverie was instantly broken when the door to his study slammed open.
Bastien stumbled into Harper’s office, he still wore the clothes Harper had leant him the day before. Wrinkled and sweat stained, Bastien clearly had not washed or slept since they last talked.
“I’ve done it!” Bastien shouted, his eyes were wild and bloodshot. “I can do it, I can cure Penelope.” Bastien stopped short as his eyes fell onto Penelope seated near the fire. His vision flickered quickly between Penelope and Harper. “What is she doing in here. And what is she reading, Harper take those away from her! Penelope shouldn’t be looking at such grotesque things!” He attempted to rush towards her but, lost his balance and Harper only just managed to catch him before his fall. This close, Harper could now smell the alcohol on him.
“Bastien!” Harper held Bastien out at arm's length, steadying him as well as forcing him to maintain eye contact. “You look terrible. You’re exhausted, drunk and don’t know what you’re saying.” Bastien balked and was about to protest but Harper talked over him. “Miss Woolridge and and I were just discussing her condition and-” Bastien spat at Harper and pulled himself out of his hold.
“Penelope! Put those books down, we’re leaving.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said put those disgusting books down, you shouldn't be reading them!” Harper slurred and leant heavily on a nearby chair.
“I will read what I please! Thank you for your concern about my weak womanly constitution, but I am perfectly capable of reading medical texts and viewing their illustrations without fainting.” She snapped a book open for emphasis.
“Penelope, let me cure you! Let me fix this...”
Harper intervened once again. “Bastien, why don’t you sit down, and tell us how you plan to help miss Woolridge.”
Bastien did not sit down and instead began to gesture wildly as he explained. “Don’t you see! It’s all in the electricity, it really is a miracle therapy, Harper! It was a miscalculation, that's all, a little human error. Some finetuning and there’s nothing to stop me from returning her memories the same way I took them! The mind is just synapses and electricity anyway, it’s simple, it really is. A little more power and a few more treatments and-”
“Bastien... This is insane. What you are suggesting is insane. You’ve already damaged this woman enough, what will you take next? Her sight? Her hearing? Maybe you will paralyse her and she will never walk again, is that what you want? This therapy of yours in unpredictable- you are not in control of this!”
“I am in control! You may be a genius with you little sliver tools, Harper, but you can’t see what I see! The possibilities of treating the mind and the brain.” He turned once again to Penelope and said plaintively, “I can fix you, Penelope. I really can. We can go back to the way things were before.”
Penelope hesitated, “How were things before?”
Harper drew closer, “Yes, Bastien, I’ve been suspicious of this already- Who is miss Woolridge to you actually? More than a patient I presume.”
Bastien’s anger failed him, his legs gave out and he slumped to the floor, all his manic energy gone.
“I loved you, Penelope. We were going to get married in the spring.” Bastien held his head in his hand and forced the words out. “But you don’t remember me. And now you’re... I don’t know you either.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Penelope looked at him quizzically. “This is who I am, Doctor Bastien, I don’t know who this girl you fell in love with was, one who was so different then me. But whoever she is, I’m happy she’s gone.”
“Please, let me bring my sweet fiance back.” Bastien pleaded.
“I’m sorry,” Penelope caught him in her cold gaze, “I don’t know who this sweet girl is who you intended to marry, but I’m not her. And if that is who I will be when my memories return, then I don’t want them.”
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