Dormant
Disclaimer: I do not own SDaBHH. You should know that.
Okay, so, my first Strange Days fanfic. Uhh. Enjoy?
Chapter 1: Virus
"What some people don't realize is that a virus can lie dormant in an organism for a long period of time," Professor Z stated as he paced down the aisle between the two rows of desks in the science classroom. His gaze rested upon a few students who seemed not to enjoy this lesson (namely Stu Kubiak) and he frowned. "Some people might not suffer the effects for days, or months, maybe even years." As he started back up the aisle toward his own desk, his hand made contact with a couple of their heads, stirring them immediately.
While most of the class had their little giggles at Stu's abrupt "Take me out, Coach!" Vaughn never even turned his head. The fever hadn't broken yet; he chilled and shivered slightly and, at the same time, felt like he were about to burn right there. He'd kept telling himself it was the flu. It had to be. Please, God, let it be the flu. The flu would've been better than what it was showing itself to be.
His eyes glued to the black surface of the table he sat behind, Vaughn tried to hide the stiffness he experienced. The night before had been so brutal; it couldn't be the flu, but he kept telling himself it was. No, it wasn't, yes it was, no it wasn't...
Please. The flu doesn't drive someone to some kind of panic that could only come from the reawakening of some ancient curse. That panic had been too familiar. He could still recall the first night, that first night, a week after that little... incident.
The two little marks on his arm had scarred over by now, not even terribly noticeable. The night before and even there in the classroom, however, he felt them like they were fresh. The pain tearing through his arm, the feeling of being the victim of a powerful beast that would soon make you just like it was...
Z's voice had droned in his head the rest of the class, and the bell for the next period sounded sharper, clearer than it used to. Great. Just like before, his senses were starting to change. He'd already been able to smell Madison's new perfume from a mile away, now his hearing was enhancing, too. After reflexively holding one hand over one of his ears, he stood, grabbed his things and started out of the room. He didn't get far, since Josie had blocked his path.
"What's your problem?" she asked bluntly, even as other students shoved past (and muttered some rude things under their breath), "You've been acting sick all morning, why don't you just stay in bed?"
"Hey, I might actually care about how I do here," he retorted, since he felt a little snappy, "Besides, what does it matter to you? Why do you care?"
Check-a and-a mate-a. Josie was at a loss for words, so she just groaned, held her books closer, and stormed out.
"You do look a bit unhealthy, Vaughn," Z stated, apparently eavesdropping like every good teacher would. "Something wrong?"
"Nothing, everything's fine." It took quite a bit to resist snapping at Professor Z as well, but he somehow managed. Marshall and Lucas, whom had been standing there watching the two-line argument between the suspected crushes, just shook their heads as Vaughn hurried out. Lucas, in particular, noticed him start for his next class, stop abruptly, then turn toward the hallway his dorm was located.
"I'm not totally sure," Lucas commented under his breath, but resisted the urge to follow and drop his own eaves (don't ask, I like that phrase). "I think he's lying to us. Wouldn't be the first time..."
"Can we not get through a single fanfic without you being suspicious?" Marshall asked, thereby successfully owning Lucas and breaking the fourth wall at the same time. "Come on, we'll be late." Marshall led his friend to their next class, but they left their suspicions with Z. Yes, he actually agreed that Vaughn was acting a tad strange. Maybe he'd investigate later.
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"Dad, can I please come home?" Vaughn begged over the phone in his room, his hand raking through his brown-and-blonde hair in a bit of melodramatic angst. "This is really getting to me. I think... I think it might be coming back..."
"It can't come back, Vaughn," Victor stated firmly in reply. "It stopped years ago. You haven't changed since you were nine."
"Dad, I really think it's coming back..."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well... uh... I've... been feeling kinda sick..."
"Just the flu, Vaughn." At his home, Victor rolled his eyes. Honestly, how could he mistake lycanthropy with having the flu?
"No, it's not," he finally admitted to himself and to his father, "I know it's... that. I feel just like I did when I first started... you know..."
"Changing is not a curse word, Vaughn."
If it weren't for the simple fact that Vaughn severely disliked the process of changing, he would have agreed with Victor. "Dad, I know it's back. I can feel it. I'm... I'm a werewolf again..."
"No, you're not." His father's voice seemed more like he were trying to convince himself. Perhaps the thought of having a werewolf son made him a little antsy. Maybe he thought it would tarnish his reputation. Maybe he was genuinely concerned and didn't want Vaughn to suffer it again. Vaughn really couldn't tell.
"Look, tomorrow's a full moon, and-"
"How do you know?"
"I looked it up. Dad, I made sure I knew when it was so I could make sure. So tomorrow's a full moon, and I'm... if I don't change, I'll know. But I'm just..."
"You know it's probably just a figment of your imagination." With that and a click, the conversation ended. So much for a secure shelter.
Erilis: More to come, don't worry.
Diego: I love how you started a completely new story, when there's three others that aren't completed (one hasn't been updated in months). Eh. Read and review.
