After the Fever
The Forever Knight characters are not mine- I'm just borrowing 'em for my story. All Forever Knight characters are copyright Sony/Tristar and no copyright infringement is intended – this is done purely for fun and no profit is being made from it in any way.
As always, feedback is most appreciated. But, please, do not feed the authoress, as she is strange, and may bite. ;-) J
Warning – this may be a tearjerker for some. A box of tissues may be required.
"Tracy, go. Thanks… for… trying." Vachon had spoken those words to her not five minutes ago as Tracy had left him to face his fate. She'd left the old church for her apartment reluctantly, but out of love for the vampire, she'd obeyed without rancor. Anything for him. Vachon had told her to go, and though Tracy had desperately wanted to stay, she'd complied without argument, knowing that it was most likely the last time she would see him alive. Vachon was dying or even dead by now and all because of some stupid lab rat that had gotten out from some stupid lab. Sighing, she changed for bed and curled up into a tight ball on the bed. She'd promised him she wouldn't cry. But you broke your promise, Vachon, Tracy thought. You said you'd always be there for me. Said you'd never leave me. Dammit, you're a vampire- you're not supposed to die! Not from some stupid disease, anyway. The tears came now, even as she willed herself not to weep for the losses. Tomorrow night she'd bury Vachon as he'd requested – next to his friend Screed. It had been her final promise to the vampire, back when the sickness had robbed him of his strength and left him too weak to talk as fluid rattled in his throat and lungs and he labored for breath, she'd promised him that she'd honor his last wishes. The sickness had moved swiftly through his body, and Vachon had deteriorated rapidly, to a point long past the first hunger and into a hazy, near comatose state as it continued to mercilessly ravage his weakened body. Tracy had left his church believing that the fever had claimed him, as it most likely
had by now, considering the state that he'd been in at her departure.
The look in Vachon's eyes had said it all: he was dying and there was no magic cure, no way for her to save him as he slipped away from her forever. A few tears fell onto Tracy's pillow as she tried to sleep, wishing with all her heart she could just forget everything that had happened. Forget him. If she hadn't fallen in love with Vachon in the first place, maybe it would've been easier to accept his death and move on. Maybe she would've been able to let go, to let him go. But Tracy knew that it was just wishful thinking. It would've made no difference. Not to her, anyway. Her love was strong and always would be, but it just hadn't been strong enough to save the one she loved. For as long as Tracy lived, she'd look back and remember. Every nuance of Vachon had been imprinted in her heart and her mind. The look in his eyes, the gentleness in his touch, the sound of his voice. She'd never forget him or the all too short time they'd spent together. So many things he had shown her in the short time that they'd known one another. Vachon had opened Tracy's eyes to new and exciting things. Things that she'd never dreamed possible until meeting him. Grief flared into anger at the injustice of having Vachon taken from her and at his breaking his word. It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair! He shouldn't have been taken from her like that… shouldn't have broken his promise. He'd promised never to leave her! Tracy knew that she was being selfish, irrational even, but she didn't care.
"Dammit!" Tracy swore, huddling under the covers as tears slid down her cheeks. She hurt so much inside. How could he be gone? Part of her was still in disbelief while the other had accepted the cold, hard truth as something that couldn't be changed no matter how much she wanted it to. What hurt worse was remembering all the things she'd wanted to tell Vachon but had never gotten up the courage to. And now it was too late. Damn her cowardice! Mumbled words of love over Vachon's grave wouldn't ease the pain in her heart and it wouldn't bring him back, either. The trauma of watching him sink deeper and deeper into the sickness, knowing there was nothing she could do to slow it down or stop it and knowing that he had been dying right there in front of her had taken its toll psychologically on Tracy. "I miss you, Vachon. You changed me, opened my eyes to so many things, and I'll always... always love you for that. Even if I never had the courage to tell you," Tracy whispered to herself as hot tears slid down her face, sparkling in the pale moonlight. Giving into the overpowering anguish that she felt throbbing in her heart, Tracy grieved alone, until exhaustion finally took its toll, and sleep came at long last to her overwrought mind and aching heart.
Later on that evening, not long after Tracy had succumbed to sleep, Vachon slipped into her bedroom silently. The room was dark, illuminated only by the thin line of moonlight that filtered in through her bedroom window. He sat beside her and caressed her cheek gently, watching her sleep. "I love you, Tracy," he murmured into the silence. So brave she'd been. And so compassionate. He could never repay her for all she'd done for him, especially after she'd skipped work to stay with him tonight. Tracy had cried herself to sleep on this long and unkind night, he knew, as he could still smell her tears. Tears for him and Screed. She'd broken her self-imposed promise not to cry and Vachon could hardly blame her. He gave her face another gentle caress and the sleeping detective unconsciously moved closer into his gentle touch as she slept on, oblivious to his presence. Again, Vachon reached out and ran his fingers though her golden hair gently, and Tracy awoke to the feel of a cool hand on her face. She opened her eyes and stared up into a pair of familiar, deep brown eyes framed with long lashes. Eyes that had once been dulled with pain and sickness and that now held a terrible sorrow within them, stared back at her. "Vachon?" Tracy sat up in bed, scarcely daring to hope. Could it really be him? "But I thought you – the sickness–" She managed to get the words out without fresh tears falling. "We found a cure, Trace… But it just came too late for Screed," he whispered to her, moving closer. Pain flitted across his face momentarily at the words. "I'm sorry," she told Vachon, enfolding the vampire in a gentle embrace. What else could she say? What else could she do? "It was hard, seeing him starve, Trace. Maybe he's at peace now. I don't know, I don't know," Vachon murmured, shaking his head sadly.
"I'm sorry," Tracy repeated, drawing him closer. Vachon nuzzled her neck, resting his head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him awkwardly, unused to consoling him. He put his arms around her, holding onto her tightly and tucked his head against her neck. He needed Tracy now more than ever. Needed to feel her warmth and her love. Yes, he knew Tracy loved him – it had been plainly evident to him more than once, but tonight most of all. And now all Vachon wanted right now was to be near her, to feel her hold him. He could hide from the pain in the solace he found in her arms for just a little while. He'd had half a mind to just hop a plane for somewhere far away and leave Toronto after he'd buried his friend, but had remembered his promise to Tracy. No, he'd stay. He'd stay here in Toronto with her - for her. Her and her alone. Only Tracy's love for him was strong enough to make Vachon stay. He wanted, needed to lose himself in her kindness and her love right now. Tracy's concern and love for him was like a healing balm to his grief-laden soul. "I'm glad you're ok, Vachon, and I'm so sorry about your friend," Tracy whispered as she stroked his hair soothingly. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, but held back in fear that he didn't feel the same way. "There are so many things I've wanted to say to you…" she mumbled against his shoulder, then blushed, realizing that she'd let her thoughts slip out into words. She hadn't meant to say that. Vachon looked up, brushing a stand of hair from her face. "And?" he prodded gently, intrigued.
Tracy looked down at her hands, a slight blush rising in her cheeks again at his inquiry. Damn his vampiric hearing! "It's nothing, really, it's stupid," she mumbled. Tracy wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, she was so embarrassed. He tilted her head up to look at him. "I have a hard time believing that anything you'd say is stupid, Trace," Vachon told her. "I can't… Look, I'm sorry – the thought just slipped out, I… I just can't," she protested quickly. "It's all right. I shouldn't have pressed the issue so hard. I'm sorry." He kissed Tracy's forehead gently as he pulled her into his arms, resting her against his chest in a protective embrace. Tracy curled up against one solid shoulder and sighed; it felt so good, just knowing Vachon was there for her again. She wanted him to hold her like this forever. "I love you, Vachon." The words came out in barely a whisper. Tracy gasped and hid her face, mortified. She hadn't meant to say that, either. Vachon gently turned her face so that he could look her in the eyes. "I know. And that's nothing to be embarrassed about, querida. I've been meaning to tell you… I've wanted to tell you… I… love you, too, Tracy," he said gently, fumbling on the words slightly. In all his years, he'd never spoken those words to anyone – except now. She looked at him, mouth open in surprise, unable to think of anything to say, unsure if she should say anything at all.
"I love you, and I need you," Vachon murmured to her, gaining confidence, though his voice wavered slightly. "You are the world to me, mi querida," he told her sincerely. Tracy blushed again, then smiled, and Vachon was sure he saw the sun. "You've shown me so much," she told him. "As you have shown me. I would never have dared to love, if it hadn't been for you," he replied. Saying those words and admitting his own feelings for Tracy left Vachon feeling both relieved and the tiniest bit vulnerable. "I don't think you'll ever know just how much I care, Vachon," Tracy whispered. He caressed her face gently. "Oh, I think I have an idea. You mean so much to me, Tracy." They embraced again, holding each other tightly. The tragedy that the fever had brought had birthed an even stronger bond between them. If they could survive this, they could weather anything, overcome anything – just as long as they had each other. Tracy glanced at her window. "Sun's coming up," she told him. "Yeah, I know." Getting up, he walked over to her window, covering it with a thick blanket. Stripping off his clothes, Vachon slipped into bed beside Tracy and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms securely around her, and as the morning sun rose, the two fell asleep in each other's arms, content and at peace.