He wanted her to leave him in peace, to suffer alone. Elijah knew the damage the venom would do to his immortal body, and it would be temporary. He would survive this. If she were there to witness it, though, perhaps his pride would not be so lucky. He knew what would happen. The pain was radiating out from the bite on his neck, perspiration starting to bead on his brow and neck. Soon, he would be writhing in agony, seizing from the pain.
After enough of that had worn his body down, the toxin would manifest that pain in his mind, drawing painful memories and regrets to the forefront. He didn't know what he would see, what he would do in his mindless stupor, but he knew it wouldn't be pretty. The pain—mental and physical—would continue until the venom had wrung all the hallucinations from his tortured consciousness, his vampire healing finally working its magic.
"I'm staying," she repeated despite his protests. He grew weaker by the second.
"I could hurt you," he murmured, eyes darting around the room as the venom muddled his vision.
"Yeah, and I could hurt you. Once this baby is born and I start to change with each full moon again, you'll see how much I could hurt you." She smiled with her only semi-humorous comment.
He doubled over and coughed as a laugh escaped his throat unbidden. "You're quite the determined wolf, that's for sure. Very… feisty."
She had turned to look out the window at the bayou, but looked over her shoulder at him in response. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Quite the contrary," Elijah assured her, before seizing in pain, throwing his limbs against the wall and bed.
Hayley rushed towards him, pressing him down to the cot easily. In his fitful state, with the venom coursing through him, it was easy for her to suppress the original.
He calmed after a moment, and her hands stilled on his chest, stroking his shirt.
"How can I help?" she asked, her palm pressed gently but firmly to his sternum. "I know you just have to let the venom run its course, but what can I do to make it easier?"
"I am not an ill child to be coddled," Elijah announced sharply, then his features softened. "I'm so sorry, Hayley. My mind is not my own right now."
She nodded, accepting his apology and considering him for a moment. "You should try to rest, maybe. Keep your strength up for when it gets bad."
He inclined his head slightly in agreement. "By all means, no need to sit here and watch a vampire sleep. Paint drying would likely be more entertaining."
She raised an eyebrow. "I don't think paint has seizures or hallucinations while drying. No, I'm staying. Actually," she continued, "Move over."
His pained face turned quizzical. "Hayley, what are you….?"
"I said, move over." She gestured for him to slide closer to the wall. When he smarted and did as she asked, she turned and sat herself down, taking her shoes off.
"This isn't a good idea," Elijah protested.
"Probably not. But it might help anyway. I feel safer in your arms, so maybe you'll be calmer in mine."
While she situated herself down on the cot, Elijah turned on his side so he could face her. The area around his neck wound was red and infected, and his brow was tense and clammy.
Hayley rolled to face him too, seeing the pain in his eyes, the fear. She raised her hand to stroke his cheek, and he leaned into her touch. He was so vulnerable right now, her Elijah. He wasn't really her Elijah, she knew that. But she could hope.
In his wounded state, his usual refined, noble air was replaced by a lack of inhibitions and a sort of guileless purity. When he looked at her, she saw adoration in his eyes. She saw the feelings she had long suppressed in herself. In moments like this, when it was just the two of them, all the drama of New Orleans faded away. Until she felt her pregnant belly keeping distance between them, and then it was a reality she couldn't ignore.
She looked down. Even in his state, in and out of lucidity, he could see the gears turning in her head.
"Here," he said, "Turn over, lay against me."
"You want to spoon?" she asked incredulously.
"I suppose I do," he admitted. "If that's acceptable."
She glanced at him disbelievingly. "Okay, but I'm supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around."
"Hayley, do you remember how you felt when your body was magically linked to that of Sophie Devereaux? And you were going to lose the child because of it? I held you in that pool and despite my sister's doubts, despite everything, your body temperature lowered and you calmed down. I expect you will be able to return the favor."
"By you holding me?"
"Yes, I believe so. That is, if it doesn't have the opposite effect, which I must admit is a possibility."
Neither of them needed to delve any further into his comment. Hayley herself had experienced the same thing—the flutter of butterflies in her stomach, the rush of blood to her…brain… the pounding of her heart. Being around Elijah was always exciting, comforting, sometimes both.
Nevertheless, Hayley turned over and scooted back to rest against Elijah's body, shivering slightly as the fever raged. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close.
She sighed, relaxing into the embrace as he leaned to kiss the back of her head. He had been right; she could feel his tremors slowing, his body calming. He was breathing more normally now, his nose nuzzling her hair and inhaling her scent every so often like aromatherapy. He seemed relaxed, calm, and dare she even say it, happy.
Hayley closed her eyes to enjoy the quiet, cherish his closeness, and then they were both asleep.
In her mind, on the edge of dreaming, she remembered the promise he made her at their first meeting: "I will always protect you." Maybe she could do the same.
