Hi friends!

I'm about halfway through chapter two of Threat or Prayer, but this was a inspired by a bit from that chapter that got cut, and I still liked the concept so much that I ended up re-working and pushing it out as a standalone. Good decision? Bad decision? Please let me know:-)

In Memory

(Neither Carmen nor Graham will be able to explain why it seemed like such a natural idea to for him to invite her to dinner at his favorite cafe, almost as if it had happened before. But then, If two people have a conversation and neither remembers it, did it even really happen at all?)

She'd already been feeling tired and achy for a few days when Antonio reported to the infirmary with a fever. She'd been pulled out of Stealth 101 and sequestered in her old room immediately, but it was too little, too late. Black Sheep joined him in the infirmary within twenty-four hours.

He got better.

She got worse.

Black Sheep wasn't sick a lot, but a life of growing up on a single tropical island where forty-odd student from around the world came and went each year meant that despite Coach Brunt's best efforts to confirm her to room when there was some kind of outbreak, she occasionally got a whammy.

This was worse than the last time. Or the time before. Or any time.

Black Sheep knew it. She would have known, even if the pressure in her chest wasn't causing her to choke on every breath, or her fever making the whole room swim in odd, vomitous angles. (Am I on the boat? Everything hurts.)

Coach Brunt and Dr. Bellum were both standing in the doorway. In an increasingly rare bout of lucidity, Black Sheep was able to summon all her strength to loll her head painfully to one side. She could at least the tone of their conversation, as they traded harsh whispers about whether or not to take her to a hospital and then loudly shooed away Gray and Jean-Paul as they tried to visit.

Considering that had never happened, to anyone, even once in her entire life on the island, she must be in pretty bad shape (...that time a student got his foot caught in a loop of rope during abseil training, and Dr. Bellum replaced his leg below the knee...Maybe I will turn into the boat.).

Even Shadowsan must feel bad for her; he who had never previously failed to come to the infirmary and berate her for falling ill, now stayed away, despite having even more right now that she was missing his class. (An origami boat. That boat would be very quiet but I would have to make the engine noises to go fast. Whooooosh.)

(I don't want to die.)

(I want to see Gray.)

Gray couldn't stand it.

There were only a few beds in the infirmary: two against the far wall that were fitted in crisp white sheets, one that had been stripped down the mattress, and one still occupied.

She had always been tiny; it amused him to no end how easy to was to take a swipe at her hair, or hold some out of her notes out of reach. But now, as the late afternoon sun highlighted the way she was curved in on herself and barely moving through hoarse, wet breaths, Black Sheep was...small.

Every cell in his being screamed.

He felt that way sometimes, when Black Sheep did something crazy in training, or spoke dreamily about all the places in which she wanted to plan heists. An inexplicable, abiding longing; his own heartbeat carved open and replaced with protectprotectprotectprotect.

Helplessness gripped him while anger and failure raged within. There was nothing he could do for her.

He was supposed to have her back.

"Crackle, Le Chèvre, you need to leave." Dr. Bellum looked up from the doorway, and Coach Brunt moved to shut the door behind her. "It's probably not communicable, but Black Sheep has gotten much worse than Antonio; it could be something different."

"But-" Jean-Paul began to protest, only to fall silent under Coach Brunt's glare. "Oui, madame."

Dr. Bellum gave them both a pitying look. "We're running some tests now. I promise I'll update you when you can come back."

Gray stared at the now shut door, as though he could change what lay behind it. Finally he nodded once and allowed Jean-Paul to pull him back outside.

"You're soft on 'em, Saira."

"I ship it. I ship it hard."

"Huh?"

"Ah, nevermind."

Gray paced the library with great agitation, as Jean-Paul sat stone-still. Only the climber's eyes moved, silently tracking his teammate's path across the room and back.

"Your constant movement will fix nothing." Jean-Paul finally said. "You should rest, lest you make yourself sick next."

"I don't care." Gray bit out quickly and continued pacing, only perhaps now even faster. Jean-Paul raised an eyebrow. Years of climbing had given Le Chèvre an appreciation for economy of movement, but Crackle was very much his own element: a fuse about to blow.

"Why won't anyone tell us anything?"

"It has only been a few hours. We will make another attempt to visit in the morning. Surely nos chers amis will be fit for company then."

He was student in crime school. If the faculty didn't think he'd commit some to get what he wanted, then what were any of them doing here in the first place?

He knew, without a doubt, that if it were him lying half-dead in there, that Black Sheep would go to any lengths to check on him. So instead of following Jean-Paul back to the dormitory, he veered through the courtyard and carefully disengaged the lock on the faculty building, then retraced his steps to the infirmary.

The room was just as it had been hours ago- silent, save Black Sheep's labored breathing. The bed next to her was still empty, but was now covered with a wrinkled sheet and had a thin file of papers on top. Antonio must have been discharged.

He sat lightly next to Black Sheep, uncertain exactly what he should, could, even do.

Her forehead was damp and her hair was matted over her face, tangling slightly with each rough inhale. Hoping to make it at least that much easier for her to breath, he carefully leaned over and smoothed the stray locks off her face. Her skin was warm to his touch, but Gray couldn't be sure if it was feverish.

Her eyelids fluttered and very slightly opened, but her expression was unfocused and bleary. Not for the first time, Gray wished he could master Black Sheep's delicate touch; she would have been able to do this without disruption.

"Go back to sleep," he hushed. "Rest. It's late."

"Th'water s'cold." she mumbled back. "M'cold."

Black Sheep's hand squirmed slightly under the thin sheet, trying to grasp the edge, then gave a small cry of agony at even that much movement and stilled. Gray glanced around quickly, looking for a blanket. There wasn't much in the room to work with, but he grabbed the flat sheet from the next bed over, and laid it over her, hoping it would add at least a little warmth. He smoothed it down, tucking the edges over her shoulders and around her hands.

Black Sheep's hand clutched his as he went to pull away, and her eyes opened a fraction wider.

"Stay."

He hadn't planned on leaving, but at her weak request quickly sat down once again on the edge of her bed, his hip against hers, and tightened his grip on her hand.

"You know I've always got your back. I'm not going anywhere."

"I...m'drowning." she blinked at him, as her eyes tried to focus. "Ev'rythin's... cold."

He started rubbing her hands without thinking; Black Sheep's fingers felt like ice. Was that a sign that she was getting worse or that her fever had broken? He didn't know.

"That's a good sign. You're getting better." He whispered.

Black Sheep closed her eyes, and the corner of her mouth tilted up slightly in the worst smile Gray had ever seen.

"Promise me-" she started. A train of heavy coughs wracked her body, and Gray immediately slid an arm under her back to help lift her to sit upright. She whimpered painfully as the cough trailed off, and leaned heavily against his chest.

"Hngh. You're warm." Her face turned up slightly so that she could tuck her nose under his uniform collar. Black Sheep continued in a whisper. "Promise me."

"You're going to be just fine, Black Sheep. I swear." He would move heaven and earth to make it happen. He could only see half her face now, the rest pressed into his shirt, but that twist of a smile that he suddenly hated appeared again. Her head shook slightly, and Gray also wrapped his left arm around her to try to provide more heat.

Her eyes found his despite the dark of the room.

"Promise me," she repeated, "If I die, you have t'get-"

"No." The response was so instinctual that Gray forgot to whisper. He looked frantically at the door, irrationally worried that the noise attracted too much attention.

"Gray." Black Sheep's eyes were closed now, but her frail voice held urgency and her han gripped at his shirt. "M'doll. If I die, you have t'get it. No one else. Tell'm what happened to me."

"You aren't going to die." Gray insisted. He slid a hand up from her should to cup her cheek, hoping her warmer temperature wasn't a trick of fever. Her eyes opened halfway once again, and he leaned his forehead against hers to make sure she was listening. "I won't allow it. I can't do this without you. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you are ok."

"Promise me. And go somewhere amazing for me, ok? It's important. You're important." Black Sheep was shaking now, and there were tears at the edges of her eyes. Gray had never wanted to end a conversation as badly as he wanted to be done with this one.

"Ok, ok. I promise. I'll take care of the dolls, alright? But you're going to be fine. We're graduating soon. We'll go to a ton of amazing places. First chance we get, I'll show you Sydney. My favorite cafe has a view of the opera house. You'll love it."

That seemed to put her at ease, and she relaxed against him. For a long while, neither moved.

Black Sheep was worse in the morning when Gray tried to visit again, and he was sent off to class while Dr. Bellum muttered something unintelligible about biphasic fever and shipper wars.

However, she seemed to be doing much better when he came around the next evening, and had the energy to speak in full sentences and tell him about the various fever-induced delusions she'd had over the past week.

"You thought you turned into boat?" he howled.

"Shut up!" Black Sheep retorted, but she was grinning and it was without any heat. "I made a fantastic boat, I'll have you know. Don't you know they're all girls anyhow?"

"I'm sure. The SS Lambikins ready to set sail."

"I'm ready to get out of here, that's for sure. Bellum told me I've been here for almost ten days; I thought she was lying for like, an hour. I'm going to have so much to catch up on! You'll help me, right?"

There was an awkward pause.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Gray's question was oddly sharp.

"Coach Brunt pulling me out of Shadownsan's class. I guess that's over a week of classes gone by now, huh?"

"Yeah," He looked down for a moment and then smiled, "We'll sort it out somehow."

(The answer is yes, if course it happened. Not because either remembers it, but because someone else does.)

(Dr. Bellum eventually wins the pool on Jean-Paul and Antonio's wedding date, but it's Shadowsan that correctly calls Crackle as the first operative they would lose, and it will bother her for years that he saw the weakness in her protégé that she did not. He will never confess how.)

End.

There are, admittedly, a bunch of lose ends in here, because some things that were in this bit are actually still plot points in my other story, so they had to go;-) I have an absurd amount of fun creating crazy backstories for these characters, and part of the reason this got cut from my other CS story is that the original plan spent too much time getting into the history of the rest of the gang and sidelining Carmen with fever+pneumonia (I literally researched a full diagnosis for her and Antonio, because it was going to be much more of a focus!). Threat or Prayer is really Carmen's story, but I love the other VILE students a lot, and will definitely give them their due in the future!