I had to rewrite this chapter again because I had accidentally deleted it. So I unpublished chapter 14. Sorry for the inconvenience.

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I woke up to the alarm blaring in my ear. I groggily sat up. I wanted to sleep more. But I knew I had to wake up now. So I tried to rub off the sleep by blinking my eyes repeatedly.

And I looked to the side, to check if Zubair was still asleep. He was. He was sleeping so peacefully. Clutching the blanket as if it was his life force. The stray hairs of his sat on his forehead. He had propped his injured arm over his stomach, probably because all the other postures hurt his arm.

I felt a little disturbed seeing that. I mean, I admit, I had pressed his hand a little too hard yesterday.

So, I decided to not wake him up right at the moment. He deserved sleep. At least that, if not anything.

I got up, refreshened myself, and prayed Fajr. Once I was done with the duaas and Dhikrs, I went up to the bed and tried calling him.

As usual, he didn't respond. I pulled off the blanket he was clutching so tightly. Still no response. It was funny, how he didn't care for anything and slept quietly. But my patience was running to its limits. And I concluded that by force or not I would have to wake him up, because Fajr time was going to end.

"Hey! Zubair! Wake up!" I shouted. Finally, he stirred awake. He was shocked at first. Maybe because I was shouting like a crazy lunatic in the morning. But then pain took over his features. He just sat up and waited in that position for awhile. Then, he got up, took Wudu and offered Salaah.

I went and sat on the couch. After all, it was too early to get ready. He came and sat down in the couch too. And I asked curiously, "Where are we going today? Shopping?" He shook his head. "No. Today nothing. We are indoors. Nothing is on the schedule. We can have breakfast, lunch and dinner in the restaurant downstairs." he said, yawning.

I was shocked to say the least. He just slept like a Koala bear in the morning, and he is still sleepy? I remarked about that to him. And he just ignored me yawning once again.

After thinking a little, I said "That's good. You can go to the doctor. Then we can have lunch. And then we can come to the hotel and spend the evening indoors."

"No.....no need." He yawned again.        "You already did some dressing up to the wound, right? No need anymore. Besides we are gonna return back in a few days." He said, trying to avoid going to the hospital. "All the more reason we have to go to the doctor. Zubair, we are not having the same conversation again." I said stubbornly. After many rounds of debating he finally agreed to go to the hospital.

We dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. After a silent session of eating we left to the hospital.

We had to wait until our turn in a long que. When it was finally out turn, we had to show our passports and IDs and some documents for clarification. The citizens in Czech, it seemed considered laws and regulations as their utmost priority. Now I understood why Zubair had hurried on yesterday without involving the police.

We seated ourselves before the doctor. He seemed to be a kind man. He asked a few questions. And Zubair explained to him the incidents and how he had got the wounds. He asked what medicines and fluids I had used to dress up the wound. I elaborated in detail making sure to include every single thing.

He then unwrapped the layers of bandages. To say it was awful would be an understatement. Not that it disgusted me. It made me shiver. Thats precisely why I never chose biology in Uni. Because I couldn't fathom looking at blood and lifeless bodies. Putting my my thoughts away, I focused on what the doctor was doing. The blood from his wounds had soaked the lower layers of his bandage. The doctor had to literally, peal the layers off.

Then he cleaned it with the help of the nurse and inspected the wounds. It seemed that the cuts and wounds on his  arm were less serious. But he said the wounds on his fist bones were deep. He wrote down some medicines on a paper and gave it to the nurse. She beckoned us both to follow, to the room adjoining the doctor's office.

We went inside, and she made him sit on the bed there. I stood to the side. The nurse went to get some things from the shelf. I looked at him. He had his eyes downcast. He was nervous and squirming in his seat.

He hated hospitals. He disliked anything related to the medical field. That's why he never chose AP biology. And that was the only advantage I had over him in high school, because I had chosen AP biology. He was very hesitant in coming to the hospital, because he hated it with a passion.

Then the nurse appeared with things necessary. She gently lifted his injured hand and cleaned it. Then she rubbed some medicine on top of each wounds. She used different fluids for every wounds. All the while, Zubair kept on a blank face. Without letting anything show.

She took a new cotton wool and dipped it on a fluid and said, "Now this might hurt you a little, dear. You better hold onto something."
He just gave her a forced smile. When it came into contact his smile faded and pain took over. His face started to redden and he broke into a sweat. But he quickly hid it. I felt a little bit sad for him. So I grabbed hold of his other hand and squeezed it gently. He didn't look up, but when she rubbed the medicine again, he squeezed my hand. Then she wrapped the wound with layers of bandages tightly and securely.

After she was done, he pulled his hand away from my grip. And we re-entered the doctor's office. He instructed us on what to do and what not. He also told to be careful of many things. Zubair was just bobbing his head up and down and I knew the lazyhead wasn't listening to him at all. I knew him too well to not notice that. So I had to listen to him attentively.

"But I have to say, Mrs. Zubair, you have done the dressing up well. Perhaps, are you a doctor?" He asked curiously. I laughed and said "No sir. I just happened to take AP biology in high school. So I know about those stuff." He agreed.

I darted a glance at Zubair to see that he was glaring at me. I had a hard time stopping my twicthing lips.

We thanked the doctor and the nurse and left for lunch.

***

We were stuffing our selves with food from the restaurant when we spoke again. It was a very famous restaurant it seemed. It's name was very classic, called 'Bellevue'. We ordered a Sauerkraut, fruit dumplings, potato soup and some apple pie.

"Are you fine? Can you eat that way?" I asked him. "Yes." He replied curtly. "I am feeling bad for you." I said genuinely. "Don't be. I don't want it. I don't accept pity from hypocrites." he Said a bit angered. "Breaking news! I am not. It died down my stomach, when you started talking." I said sighing.

He had to put on a hand cast on his injured right arm for further safety. So he went carrying around his arm in a cast wherever he went. So he had to eat with his other hand. He had a hard time holding the fork.

"You made fun Of me." He said abruptly. His voice was filled with anger. "Well? Don't tell me you actually bought it? You believed me?" I asked laughing. "You seriously got into high school by mistake, I am sure."

After finishing lunch we went to the hotel. The rest of the day was spent by me reading a book on the balcony. And him watching a wrestling match on the TV inside.

***

It was the last day of our trip. We had packed all of our stuff and belongings. Our flight was at 3.00 pm. So we had to go to the Airport and 11.00 pm. Zubair had already warned me to pack everything up as we were directly leaving after visiting our final destination in Czech.

Now as we were sightseeing the backside of the 'Powder Tower', I was reminded of the Prague Castle. Which had a similar style and architecture. I was too busy, lost in the world of architecture, to notice that I was lost again.

I yet again, looked around for any sign of the Guy. Yes . There he was. He was holding the camera with his good arm, in an odd angle. He was quite far from me. He hadn't noticed my absence. He was too concentrated on capturing a shot of the Tower and the people who were roaming around.

He looked at the photo he just captured , and smiled proudly and happily at his shot. Smiling. He was smiling!? Who knew even pictures could bring volumes of happiness to one? Especially considering that he barely smiled. Ever.

It was too surreal. So I captured him admiring his shot, in my own camera.

Then he suddenly, looked up. And noticing that I was not there, He looked around. And met my eyes.

He lifted the hand with the camera and waved it in the air, to show me where he was. And he beckoned me to come. I found the situation funny suddenly. And I bowled over laughing.

He looked so funny. With his light brown khaki shorts and black T shirt and his glasses propped on his head. His good hand waving with the camera, trying to grab my attention. Not to mention the goofy smile he was wearing! It was probably the result of the shot he had taken recently.

He looked like a little lunatic Kid!

I went near him, and voiced my thoughts to him. His goofy smile faded and he glared at me.

***

It was almost 3.00 pm pm now. We were on board in the plane. We were waiting for the takeoff.

I looked out the window and captured my last photo of Czech before we left. Zubair followed me.

***

Once we got off the the plane and had taken out belongings, I helped Zubair carry his bags. I soon regreted my help because he treated me as if I was his slave.

We were still bickering when we saw mother, father and the others waiting for us near the terminal. They hugged us warmly.

But they were very shocked and worried at the sight of his cast. We gave many excuses, trying to lessen their concerns.

And after a long round of interrogation, we finally reached home, after a long while.

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Finally! Finished writing this at 11:56 pm. For u guys! So pls read this. Jazakallh!