Doc

As I slowly came to consciousness, I heard voices. I lay still, straining to listen. It sounded like they were standing a couple feet from the bed. It sounded like two men talking to each other.
"I only gave her a little bit. She was having such a problem breathing, two breaths did it for her." There was a heavy sigh. "She...she seemed to be having trouble...remembering...."
"What did she say?" here another voice broke in.
The first voice continued again. "She asked 'Where am I?' and didn't seem to remember that we lived in London. She seemed confused after I told her we were in London. Then she asked who I was! I assured her that she was all right. But she just fought me. She was fighting me the whole time, but she was so weak, the poor thing, that it was too easy to keep her down. And then..." here he paused as though wondering about what exactly he had done wrong, "I raised my hand to get the cloth because she was panicking so bad but she saw me raise my hand and...shrieked...'don't hit me!' I wouldn't hit her! You know I wouldn't, Doc! I've never said or even joked that I would hit her!"
The other voice, called "Doc", said quietly, "But her father did. If she has really has forgotten who she is, her subconscious will tell her that men hit. If she doesn't know who you are, she will be scared of you."
I started to panic again. I didn't know who I was, did I? I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. Then suddenly loud beeping started on my left. It frightened me so much that my eyes popped open. A nice-looking older man walked from the doorway over to the side of my bed. He smiled compassionately at me as I looked up at him-frightened, I'm sure.
"Now...miss," he started slowly and carefully, "I want to talk to you, and help answer some questions for you. But if you start panicking and your heart rate makes this beep," here he pointed to the machine next to my bed, "I'm going to have to give you something that will knock you out. Are we clear?"
I nodded.
He continued, "Now calm down, and let's try to answer a few questions. First of all, I am a doctor and he," the doctor pointed towards the other man standing in the doorway, the one I had met earlier, "is a friend. I'm sorry he gave you such a fright this morning and I assure you he meant no harm to you. However, if you feel uncomfortable around him, he need not be around you." The doctor cast a sympathetic look at the other man as he said this, almost apologizing for behaving in such a manner.
He turned back to me. "You can call me Doc. Now, don't panic; 'I don't know' is a perfectly good response. But do you know what your name is?"
I knew that I should know. I could feel my pulse starting to race. The machine started beeping and I feared that our conversation would be terminated. I turned fearfully to the doctor, who was watching me calculatingly compassionately.
"Calm down," he said quietly. I forced my pulse to slow, and made myself think. I carefully searched through my memory bank; and found it empty; devoid and empty of anything except my morning encounter with that man standing in the doorway.
The doctor nodded as the machine stopped beeping. "You always were able to get your emotions under control-" he cut himself off, and looked as though he was afraid that he had said too much.
"Wait. You know me?" I asked. Beyond feeling frightened, I had a desperate need to know who I was.
"Yes, ma'am," He quietly looked me over, evaluating how much I could take. "If you start feeling overwhelmed, then stop me. I'm going to tell you who you are." He stopped, and looked me over with his eyes.
I nodded, excited and trepidatious.
He looked toward the other man, as though warning him to be silent. "You were walking through town one night and..." he stopped and made sure I was doing all right. "somehow got separated from the group and went missing. The police were notified, and you were found in an alley. Cut and bruised, lying on the ground with broken glass lying around. I didn't find any damage physically, but I was worried about your head. Apparently you have amnesia."
No, duh, I thought to myself. But it would pose certain problems. He could be one of my abductors, for all I knew.
He continued, "that was last night. We woke you every two hours to assure that you would not fall into a coma. Do you remember that?" I again carefully searched my memory, but no, nothing came up. I shook my head.
He nodded. "You did seem as though you were drugged last night..." His voice trailed off, looking at me thoughtfully.
I chanced a glance at the "friend;" he was standing unmoved in the doorway watching our exchange.
"How does your brain feel?" The doctor asked.
"Okay," I replied. I stopped and carefully tried to evaluate my condition. Besides the panic, it felt normal.
"No fog?" he asked.
"No," I answered.
He took a deep breath, again looked at me as though assessing my strength and then opened his mouth. "I'm going to tell you who you are because I think you can take it. Stop me whenever you start to feel...overwhelmed." He stopped, then began again.
"You are in Buckingham Palace, in London. You were the daughter of an English earl; there was a...sort of a competition and you won." He paused, glanced towards the man in the doorway, then said, "You married the prince."
He stopped and my mind whirled. I married the prince of England? That means...that I'm a princess. Which means that I'm royalty. Which means that I am married. So that man in the doorway must be my husband, the prince. Which means when I awoke this morning I was in our bedroom. My mind calculated all this quickly and i turned toward the man in the doorway.
"You're my husband?" He nodded, watching to see my reaction. I reflected that it probably hurt to have your wife not recognize you or remember your wedding.
"Come here, James," the doctor motioned him to the side of my bed. James walked over and stood looking at me.
He obviously didn't know what to say, and neither did I. The doctor looked between us and slowly nodded. "All right, here's what you need to do. You both need to...introduce each other." He looked toward James apologetically. "You'll have to figure out how to handle the media attention and ramifications of this amnesia. I would advise...well, for now, just educate her as best you can, filling in important memories. Do things the way you always have, see if you can jumpstart her memory. You'll have to talk with the Private Secretary, of course, to decide how to react publicly. Privately," he again looked at me, as though analyzing me. "be careful with her. She's like an innocent child. Do not abuse the power and trust you have right now. Her psychological balance more than likely is delicate; don't make her do anything that she doesn't want to."
James nodded, and I looked into his face. He looked strong, but kind and good. I hoped he was.
"Now, why don't you take her to your apartments, show her some pictures of you two, talk to her, let her rest, feed her..." he finished, then quickly added, "I wouldn't advise venturing outside, though. Of necessity her maid and guards must be informed, but keep the informed people few and trustworthy."
James again nodded, then stretched out his hand toward me. I hesitated, then took it. I wanted to trust him. What reason did I have not to? Anyway, if he really was my enemy, who could I trust? Who did I have to turn to? I would have to trust him, and time would tell.
The doctor took the heart moniter and numerous other wires and things off of me, then nodded that I could get out of bed. I sat up, and felt dizzy. I kept going, however, and stood. I would have fallen over for dizziness had not James reached out and quickly caught me around my waist. I hung onto him, because I couldn't tell up from down.
"Don't worry, this is just because you haven't eaten," the doctor hastened to assure me. I hoped he was right. The dizziness abated enough so that I could see the room, but the room still tilted.
With James's arm still around my waist, we walked out of the room, to what I was sure was our apartments.