AN: Hey Guys! I had gotten a few requests for another Sisterhood Eric/Bridget Scene. So this is Eric's POV of when Bee is sick in the 3rd book! :) I've been working on it for a while and finally decided to post it. Enjoy!
Bee isn't here. Bee isn't here. Bee isn't here. Bee isn't here.
The words rang through his head like a Buddhist mantra, over and over again. God, what she did to him.
She turned him inside out and backwards. She made him question the world in a way he never had before. She made him go dizzy every time she raced up the sidelines, a soccer ball in between her feet. And every time he saw that hair. God. He was consumed with thoughts of her. She wrapped around him so tightly he was surprised he could move.
Bee isn't here. It resounded through his head again, reminding him of its purpose.
And it also really confused him. Bee never missed dinner. He knew how much she ate. It was another one of the things he loved about her.
Except that he didn't love her. It was just an expression. He loved Kaya. Yeah, Kaya.
He shook his head and thought again. Tonight was spaghetti. Bee loved spaghetti. Last time they had it she stayed longer than anyone else, insisting on eating every noodle by the slurp method. Every damn one. And Bee ate a lot. And it was "Sundae Day." In addition to spaghetti, she loved ice cream. Something was definitely wrong.
Or maybe he was paranoid. Or maybe he just said something to upset her. Shit. Or maybe she was pigging out on the junk food care packages her friends sent her. Or something. Maybe.
Shit. Okay, enough was enough. He had to know if she was okay.
The door creaked a bit as he opened it and looked around. At first he thought she simply wasn't there. Then he looked again, and the moonlight caught on that beautiful hair. He saw a cocoon-like figure curled up on a bed. Concern for her sprung up immediately. He walked closer and knelt down next to her head.
"Bee," he said quietly, trying not to startle her. He watched her blink and begin to take in her surroundings. He immediately noticed a difference in her face. The classic Bee glow was not present today.
"Hi," she said softly. He noticed her twitch towards the blanket, probably to remove it, but then decide against it.
"Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly. She looked so… weak. It was weird to observe. He had only seen her like this once before, and even then, it really wasn't the same thing at all.
"I'm okay," she said. He saw her teeth start to chatter, and the shivering increased. He hoped he was hiding the panic he was starting to feel, at least to some degree.
He knelt down and felt her forehead. She was blazing, "God, you're hot." He almost winced, thinking she would probably joke and act like she took it the wrong way. She didn't. This was bad.
"I think I got the flu," she said meekly. It sounded like it took a lot of effort to put forth the words.
"You got something." He noticed her hair about to stick to her sweaty face, and gently brushed it back. God, it was soft. He didn't even think about doing it until it was already done. She was controlling him in a way he couldn't describe.
He slid his hand to her flushed cheek. She was burning up.
"Do you want to take something? Should I see if the nurse is around?" He didn't know what to do. He was afraid he was going to start panicking soon.
"Don't worry, it's not a big deal." She was talking so slowly, it broke his heart, "I always run high fevers. My mom used to say," she paused to re-charge, and then, "I'd get to a hundred and six degrees with just a little cold."
God! Poor Bee! She was so amazing and talented and wonderful, and just look what she got in exchange.
And her mom. He could perfectly recall the moment when he told her. Her face had been set in that expression people get when they try to be nonchalant and strong, but their eyes show the true pain hiding inside.
God. Her life was so screwed up and yet she still was so fierce and brave. He felt so much sympathy and concern for her at that moment that he was surprised he didn't just grab her and hold her forever.
He just wanted to make it better. Make her better.
"I'm not sure if the nurse is here," She wasn't. "But I'm going to get you something. Do you take Tylenol or Motrin or something like that?"
"Anything," she replied. He could hear the gratitude in her significantly weakening voice.
"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, okay? Promise?" He didn't know what he'd do if she wasn't there when he came back.
She managed a small chuckle that lit up his world, "That I can promise."
……
Eric knew the infirmary was locked, so he grabbed a frying pan from the kitchen on the way. The lock was easy to break- ridiculously easy. He grabbed a thermometer, a thing of orange juice, a bottle of each aspirin and Advil, a bottle of water, and one of those little paper cups. He placed them into a bag he had grabbed earlier from his cabin, and then ran back towards her.
As soon as he saw her cabin, he noticed the noise. The light was on, and there was loud music, resounding through the night air. What the hell?
He picked up speed as he got closer.
Katie and that other girl were partying like nothing was wrong. He was so mad at that moment, he was surprised he was able to keep his voice relatively steady. He was usually good at keeping his emotions in check- except around Bee apparently.
"Can't you see that Bee is sick! Why are you making all this noise? What the hell's wrong with you?" she asked angrily.
Idiots. Fucking Idiots. They both were. This fact was proved when the clearly drunk Katie spoke, "Dude. Back off. Why are you barging into our cabin and telling us what to do?"
He wanted to punch her. He had never wanted to hit a girl in his life before now. So he stormed over to Bee and felt his expression change from rage to concern. He knelt by her bed once more and felt her forehead again. No change. If anything, it was hotter. Shit.
Eric bent down to her ear to speak to her. "I really don't want to leave you here with the two of them. You want to come back with me? My cabin is empty this weekend. You can sleep."
He saw her nod and was relieved at once. She wouldn't be here with the bitch twins anymore. Thank God.
He was worried about whether or not she had clothes on underneath the covers. He didn't want to invade her privacy or anything.
Though it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before… He internally flinched at the direction his thoughts were going. So he decided on picking her up, sheets and all, and carrying her to his cabin, where it would be peaceful and quiet.
Eric scooped her up and made sure no covers were dragging the ground before walking out of the cabin with her in his arms.
He suddenly felt her burning hot forehead on his chest. He felt his heart clench and then speed up.
She was shivering again. He tucked the blankets more firmly around her and put his chin on the top of her head. Trying to telepathically tell her, It's okay, I'm here.
They got to the cabin and Eric found himself wishing it was actually miles away, so he could walk holding her forever, absorbing every terrible aspect of her life into his skin. He had never before felt such a powerful urge to do something- to make her better, to stop her suffering.
He gently pushed open the door to the cabin, trying not to jostle her, and set her down on his bed, carefully tucking the covers around her. He probably could have placed her on David's bed, but somehow his legs wouldn't let him put her there. He wanted her in his bed, where she belonged.
Shit. No, his bed was not where she belonged. Oh well, it was too late now.
Anyways, back to Bee, she was still shivering. He fought the urge to put another blanket on her.
He felt he should explain this, "I'd put another blanket on you, but I don't want you to get overheated, you know?"
She nodded, and he felt a little better. He started to unload the stuff from the bag, "The nurse isn't back till Sunday, but I got into the infirmary in case we need anything else."
She blinked several times in confusion; it was adorable and heartbreaking at the same time. Finally, she asked, "It was unlocked?"
A picture of the frying pan immediately flitted across his brain. Well, no, it wasn't really.
He shrugged. "Now it is."
He poured some of the water into the cup and put two of the pills in his other hand. "Ready," he asked as he helped her to slowly sit up.
He watched her furrow her brow for a second before sticking one hand out of the top of the blanket, keeping in all the warmth.
She drank three consecutive cups of water, and he wondered how many times his heart was going to pang like that in his chest. It was just so utterly heartbreaking to watch her like this.
"Poor thing, you were thirsty," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.
She downed the pills, wincing a little as she did so. "Thank you," she said, and he could hear the emotion in her voice as he watched her eyes get shiny.
He couldn't help but to put his hand on her cheek after that. Her face was so warm, it scared him even more. "I'm worried about you," he whispered. He looked into her eyes, trying to convey how much she meant to him in that moment. It didn't matter whether he loved her or not, he was allowed to do this because they were at the very least friends. That much was certain.
He swallowed, getting back to business, and took out the thermometer. "Open up," he said, hopefully acting a lot more casual than he felt.
He watched as her beautiful, bleary, blue eyes widened ever so slightly. "Are you sure you want to know?"
He nodded; he had to know. He watched the mercury settle with growing distress. Shit for the millionth time that night. "God, it's 104.7. Is that safe?"
"I've been there before," she replied quietly, and she said it with such a casual tone that it made him even more scared than he already was.
"Should I call a doctor?" he finally asked.
She didn't need to think about it for very long. "I think I'm going to be okay. I'm not scared or anything."
Really, she wasn't scared? Because he sure was.
But he lay down on David's bed anyways, respecting her wishes, but watching her carefully. He thought about who he should tell. Her mom was out for obvious reasons, but there was still her dad. Yeah, he'd call her dad.
He announced just that and went to get his cell phone, before he turned around, hearing her quiet voice.
"Don't call my dad. He's not," she paused for a short second, "there."
He could feel his brow furrow in confusion. "It's midnight. Where would he be?"
"No, I mean," she paused again before continuing, "He's just not there. In that way."
He felt the corners of his mouth turn down. Damn it. Poor Bee. Did she not have anyone besides her friends? No family to care about her?
He went to go lie down and watch her again, his chest feeling heavy. He watched her shiver violently, and then subconsciously snuggle down deeper into the covers.
She was killing him. Watching her like that was killing him. He had to something, for God's sakes.
He went over to his bed, his body leading him there before his brain could tell him no. He picked her up slightly and shifted her over as gently as possible, giving him room beside her. Then he lay down next to her and put his arms around her, his body immediately sighing at the contact.
But it wasn't enough; he pulled her closer and tucked her beautiful, burning face into his neck, trying to show her without words much he cared for her; how much he wanted to help her, to take away her pain and her sadness and replace it with comfort and happiness and love. He held her as tightly as he could and stroked her hair, as he heard her breath hitch with unspoken appreciation. He lay like that with her for hours and hours, trying with all his might to absorb all that pain and suffering from her heated skin.
God, he loved her. Was that okay? Maybe not, but it was true. He could not hold her like this and feel these things and not believe that he loved her. What he felt at that moment was as indescribable as it was amazing. And as much as he hated it, it could not even compare to what he had felt for Kaya.
No, now, what he felt right now, was undeniable. He couldn't be here with Bridget and still claim to have any doubts about his love for her. Not when it was surrounding him, consuming him like this. He couldn't lie to himself anymore. Not after this.
A little while later her breathing slowed and he felt her completely relax in his arms. He relaxed as well, loving that he had been able to let her finally fall asleep. And the happiness he felt at that allowed him to pull her closer one last time and doze off as well, her perfect, heated body held tightly in his arms.
Eric awoke to the glorious feeling of a women's body wrapped up in his arms. He felt soft skin pressing against various parts of his body and almost smiled in the pure bliss of it.
Mmmmmm. He pulled whoever it was tighter against him, determined to feel every part of her against his body. His chest pressed insistently against the girl's. God, it felt good.
Maybe it was wrong, but he imagined it was Bee. That it was Bee's soft body touching his, her soft breasts and silky hair and those firm legs that seemed to go on forever. Maybe it was wrong, but fantasies are fantasies, they can't be helped, right?
He sighed inaudibly and slowly opened his eyes. They immediately registered a shining yellow, gold color that blinded him. He blinked, taking it into focus and realized that it was hair- the most beautiful he had ever seen. It was spread gloriously across his body, brushing up against the skin of his chest and arms.
He slowly recalled that only one person he had ever met had hair that amazing. Bee.
He looked up to the owner of the hair's eyes in confusion. Bee? God, she was beautiful. Even with that slight look of terror on her face.
Wait. This was Bee. Bridget. The Bridget.
And she was mostly naked. In his arms. In his bed.
Fuck. He looked away quickly. But not quickly enough not to see her bare chest again. Double Fuck.
But we didn't do anything, he thought, the events of the night before quickly coming back to him, I was just taking care of her because she was sick. But they had still ended up like this. It was his fault they were intertwined like this in the first place.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, extracting his arms from her body, trying not to mourn the loss of connection. He had to get out of here. He had to get away from her. She was destroying him.
She immediately drew up the covers over the rest of her body. "Please don't say that," she said, her voice breaking in emotion.
He squeezed his eyes, shut, hoping against hope that she didn't think he would ever take advantage of her.
Like he sort of did… Oh God.
"I didn't mean…" he tried to explain, the words caught in his throat.
She immediately saved him the trouble, "I know."
He looked away, the sight of her like that with that expression was just too much for him. Shit, he had completely forgotten… "Are you feeling…?"
"So much better."
He got completely up now, turning his body away from hers. "I… uh, I'll let you get dressed. Grab anything you want of mine, T-shirt or whatever."
He quickly pulled a pair of shorts over his boxers, desperate to get away from her, to what she was doing to him.
He saw her staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and he could tell she was trying to find a way to say something to him. But he couldn't take it. He couldn't be in this all-consuming room of guilt and regret anymore. He had to get out. He had to go.
He left without saying anything else.
And then there was Kaya. Oh God, Kaya. He knew there was no way he could ever stay with her now. Not after this.
Fuck. He had a lot to fix. And he had a lot to decide.
But one thing he knew was certain, one definite truth.
He loved Bridget. He loved her utterly and completely, and there was no way he could allow anything else but that solitary truth to stand for any longer.
AN- So there it is! Please Review, but no flames please! Thanks for reading. :D