A/N: Due to a mishap of broken glass and my hand respectively, it has been rather difficult to type with sore fingers and palms. Please forgive the lateness. I do apologize profusely. I do love the reviews/threats I've gotten. So, it is my understanding that my Rochester is being held for ransom until I post another chapter. I have 48 hours...hmm. Well here's your chapter ladies, now please let Johnny go. He needs to play. Besides, I can't very well write my next chapter without my muse now could I? Reviews are welcomed as always.

I remain in your debts.

McFadden-

Chapter Eight

The ushers were already posted at their stations when they returned. Kathryn left Billy at the door so that she could go straight to her work. She hadn't had a day like today in a very long while. Even if her work load had doubled, she wouldn't have minded in the mood she was in. Luckily, the stage looked to be all set up and ready for tonight's performance. She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing now that she could finish before people started to show up, if she worked fast...

She hummed dreamily to herself. Turning the corner, Kathryn stopped dead in her tracks. There ahead of her, John's body hung half way on and off the couch. The rattle of fear struck through her body at the sight of his limp form. Looking at his peaked color, she thought the worst. Was he dead!

After the shock subsided, her feet uprooted and she immediately ran to his side, searching for any signs of life. His skin felt clammy from a sheen of cold sweat.

"Johnny!"

No response. Kathryn laid her face close to his mouth. The faint air of breath met her cheek and her heart jumped. Thank God he was breathing... She may not like the man very much but she didn't want him to die. Bending closer to his ear, she whispered to him.

"Johnny, come on. Wake up for me. Let me see those eyes..."

She moved his matted hair from his forehead, drawing her hand back when she realized that he was plagued with a fever. She needed to get him out of here. Afraid to leave him, but fearing that if she didn't do something he'd become worse, Kathryn ran for the entrance to the theater. Looking frantically through the oncoming coaches she spotted John's. She tore through the growing theater audience and reached Alcock, who was lazily propped up in the driver's seat.

"I need your help!"

Alcock looked at her snidely and sneered.

"What's the price you're willing to pay, Pretty?"

Instantaneously, Kathryn's temper couldn't be held in any longer.

"Get up you fucking bastard! John's sick!"

She needn't say another word before Alcock was off of the carriage and the two of them disappeared into the theater. Alcock took one look at his master and started to search his coats. Moments later, he pulled out a small vile of Laudanum. Kathryn couldn't make out what it was until Alcock told her and her eyes widened.

"...But that's poison!"

Alcock sighed and put the small tube in his pocket.

"He's been taking a drop of it whenever he feels the lunacy come over him. It staves off his more dangerous actions."

This frightened Kathryn. Had their meeting earlier that morning caused this? She knew she shouldn't have left him! She kneeled over him and wiped his shallow cheeks with her apron. Worry completely wrought her features. Tears started to drop from her eyes. The guilt was beginning to kill her.

"Will he be alright?"

Alcock shrugged.

"I've seen worse..."

Kathryn looked at him appalled and spat sarcastically.

"What...the dead!"

Alcock just frowned at her.

"I need to get him home so he cane recuperate."

In a moment of weakness, Kathryn looked up at the unkempt man from her spot on the floor. Even to him, she looked a pity.

"Please...take him to my house where I can care for him."

Alcock just stooped over and lifted John onto his back. Conscience of not causing embarrassment to his master, Alcock took another way out through the backstage door, so as to not have curious spectators. In that fleeting moment. Kathryn saw the loyalty that Billy spoke of. John's friends really did care for him. And whether she was unconscious of the fact or not, she was doing the same thing. The carriage ride was one of the longest Kathryn had ever been on, even though it was just a few turns to her doss. She hurriedly opened up the door for Alcock as he carried John inside. Putting him on the lounge. Kathryn wrung her hands nervously as she looked back and forth between the two men. One was completely oblivious to the world, and the other was just oblivious...most of the time. In her attempts to be nice, she offered Alcock her help. Although he denied needing it, Alcock knew that if Wilmot were to wake up and fine Alcock there when he was supposed to be looking after the house, he'd have his head.

"You can stay in the spare room. Really, it's no trouble."

Kathryn was chewing the inside of her cheek raw with her own politeness. She could see Alcock's suspicions of her written on his face, clear as day. True, she hadn't been the best person to be around, but neither was he! He was a complete ingrate. Kathryn knew that her thoughts weren't entirely true and felt bad for even thinking about them as the man lay completely at her disposal. Alcock cleared his throat. Kathryn looked up from the Earl's sleeping form and saw that his servant was preparing to leave.

"Wipe his head down with a cold rag. When he wakes up, I suggest you get to the other side of the room fast, he gets mad when he stirs from these bouts."

Kathryn looked at him questionably. Alcock knew her question without her asking.

"Like I said, I've seen worse. He'll be alright within 3 days. I'll be returning later this evening to drop off his things."

Kathryn gave him her word, promising to be vigilant and to notify him if something should happen. Seeing his now, in the safety of her own home, she felt better. Retrieving a cloth, she soak it in some water and wrung it out. As soon as she laid it on his head she heard him moan in deep agreement to the temperature change. The gravelly sound of it went straight to her toes, turning her insides to liquid.

Whatever that was, it better not happen again! She didn't want him to have that effect over her.

"Johnny?"

His eyes wavered and she saw his dark lashes tremor on his cheeks as though he was in a dream. Kathryn pulled up a comfortable chair when she realized he wasn't going to wake up any time soon. All she could do was wait. To pass the time, she figured that she would make accommodations for the Earl because, considering the time, he was staying the night over and she didn't want him comatose on the couch. Briefly, a thought passed that she could call Billy to help her but that was swiftly dismissed due to the potential confrontations.

She retrieved a dark purple, hand-woven cashmere blanket and switched the others because he had soiled them with sweat. John's faced was twisted with discomfort and anxiety in his sleep. Using a cold, wet rag and a bowl of water, she washed his face and began singing the lyrics John wrote to accompany her quiet melody.

He seemed to relax under her touch. His lips parted as though he were about to speak. Kathryn leaned nearer to him so she could hear. His words came out in a slur.

"Why are you torturing me?"

Kathryn looked down at the bowl of water. It was a good thing that he spoke. It meant his fever was breaking. She should move him to her bedroom once Alcock returned. He needed to sleep on a real bed. Kathryn could handle resting on the couch for the night. The tender hold only her wrist nearly cost her to jump out of her skin. Apparently Johnny wasn't dreaming like she thought as she saw his bloodshot eyes looking helplessly at her.

"Why him..."

Not being in his right frame of mind made him sound delirious and pitiful. Kathryn offered him a confused look. She didn't know what he was taking about.

"Why who John?"

He closed his eyes in a mixture of fatigue and anger. When he opened the again, Kathryn could see faint traces of hurt in them.

"Don't play that with me. You know exactly who I'm talking about. I saw you with him!"

His attempts to yell had failed, coming out with nothing more than a harsh murmur. This made her look down in shame. His hand still held her wrist no tighter than before, but gentle. She knew she felt like she was being watched earlier. He had seen her with Billy and know she had to come up with something to explain herself.

"Not everything is what it seems."

He dropped her wrist immediately and looked at her half in disgust and half disappointed. His eyes turned from feverish to fixed on her face accusingly.

"Then why was he kissing you?"

Kathryn dipped her hands into the cool water and wrung out the cloth, wiping off his face and neck again. He begrudgingly let her because he really didn't have any choice in the matter. Besides, it seemed to be the only comfort he was getting today. Kathryn smiled softly and assuredly to him which only caused him to suspect even more bad news he hadn't stuck around for earlier. The look on her face was just too nice.

"Does Billy...

This time the Earl's voice worked when he yelled.

"Don't say his name!"

This outburst caused her to flinch. She sighed and tried a different approach.

"Does he not kiss you every time you see him?"

If looks could harm, she'd be in trouble judging from the one she received then. It was accompanied by a lethal whisper through gritted teeth.

"Not. Like. That."

Being utterly embarrassed, she couldn't say a word in her defense. Feeling wrought with guilt, Kathryn apologized to him. Though she didn't understand the effect her actions were having over the Earl. John needed to get away from her. The churning in his stomach grew worse. He tried to push himself up to move but was hit with a dizzy spell and fell back against the cushions. He closed his eyes against the spinning world until it was bearable enough again to open them up once more. Looking around he became completely confused. Not being able to focus on anything except for the one person he didn't want to see right then, he finally gave up and asked.

"Where am I?"

Kathryn felt skittish on replying to him, but she continued to work diligently on getting him better, even if he was mad with her. Not meeting his eyes she watched her own hands as she washed his neck and spoke.

"In my home...I'm surprised you don't recognize the couch."

She smiled, though she tried not to. John took this into account and looked at the couch, noticing almost immediately that it was the same infamous lounge he himself had tried to seduce her on only days before. Hr grunted and settled back down. Looking at her with a contemptuous glare, he replied, sounding more like the sarcastic Earl she was used to.

"Your God has been cruel to me. How things can change... I seem to be at your mercy."

Kathryn met his eyes again. They seemed less intimidating now.

"I would think that my God has been exceedingly patient with you Johnny. You should consider yourself fortunate. I could've just left you at the theater."

John's glassy, fever-rimmed eyes stared at her, blinking cathartically. He smirked at her bitterly and mumbled.

"...you did."

Kathryn didn't pay much attention to this. His forehead started to bead up with more sweat and she was too concerned with that to listen to him feel sorry for himself. So she just hushed him.

"Calm down now, or you'll work yourself up into a fit. That won't help either of us much."

Pressing her fingertips up under his body, she tightened the covers around him. John had half the mind to grab her hands and run them over his body to make her feel just how hot he was. For all of her fighting mixed with her care was making him ache for her more. It just infuriated him. He just pushed those thoughts from his mind and filled the void with spiteful comments she really didn't deserve.

"It'll give me a piece of mind knowing that I'm better off delusional..."

She narrowed her eyes at him. They glowed at his ungratefulness, something John loved about them in secret.

"No one is going to feel sorry for you but yourself, so get over it. Don't mistake my kindness for affection towards you, or you just may get your wish and find yourself dead by morning."

Taking the remaining cold water and cloth, Kathryn got up swiftly and carried them off with her. John laid in silence arguing again with his own conscience. His head was so pained that it felt as though it was going to cave in. He knew that drinking so much sounded like a good idea at the time, but apparently he had finally reached a lined and tapdanced across it in his drunken stupor without a care in the world. Although he would never admit it, Kathryn was right, he did need someone's care, and lucky for him she came when she did. He imagined briefly the sight of Alcock wiping down his sweated brow while the human sloth obviously had one of his own. John shuddered and nearly vomited at the thought.

The pain increased and shot through John's body, causing him to moan. Where is she? The Earl knew that had someone spoken to him the way he just did to her, he would've left them to die. He hoped he hadn't offended Kathryn enough to where she would do such a thing.

Kathryn watched all of this from the hallway leading into her bedroom and sighed to herself. From the looks on his face, he was giving himself a mental verbal beating. She couldn't leave him in pain like that. Despite her best efforts to ignore the cantankerous man, she knew she could not. Creeping down the hall, she opened her cabinets that held all of her remedies. She took out a chalky white object, placing it beneath a piece of linen and crushed it with a wooden mallet. Removing a small bottle of greenish, cloudy content, she poured it and the now finely chopped powder together in a small goblet-shaped glass.

John had the palms of his hands firmly pressed into the sockets of his eyes when she returned to his side. Kathryn doubted that he even heard he come back. Judging by the way he went rigid when she touched his hand, she was certain of it. She pressed the glass into his palms. John looked at it surprisingly.

"Absinthe, that's a love..."

He took a sip of the liquid and Kathryn covered his mouth, looking at him firmly as his eyes began to tear.

"Swallow it."

After a moment, he gulped audibly and breathed heavily afterwards.

"What the fuck was that!"

Kathryn smirked.

"Absinthe, isn't that what you said."

He shot her a murderous glance.

"That. Was not Absinthe..."

He knew from the way she had to force herself not to laugh that she knew it wasn't that magical drink.

"No, but in spite of its taste, it'll make you better. It's a mixture of honeysuckle and mint. That bitterness you tasted was a tonic to bring your fever down."

John's lips tightened with the retched taste in his mouth, causing him to breathe through his nose. Kathryn studied the color in his cheeks. Her hair touched his forehead and felt soothing against his skin. He breathed, welcoming the comforting sensation until he caught a particular scent. Kathryn noticed the atmospheric change almost immediately and looked over at him. There was a deep frown on his face that turned her anxious. His voice was low and tempered again.

"I can smell him."

A not so pleasant chill ran through Kathryn's body at what she saw there in his eyes. Even though he was sick, she could see his possessive nature shining through it all, but she wasn't even involved with him. She didn't want to be cohering with a man like that. Nothing good would come from it. There was a knock on the door suddenly, breaking his ominous stare.

Kathryn looked back at the door, unaware of the hold that John took of her hand. When she did notice it, she wrenched it loose before she got up to answer the door. John feared it was Billy on the other side. To his relief, it was just Alcock to drop off his things. He watched at Kathryn whispered to the brute, while occasionally looking back at him On the other hand, Kathryn never thought she would be so happy by the presence of that man, but at least it cut through enough of the thickness in the room to help her to conjure up a disappearing act while he was there to watch over his master. Alcock picked up the washrag and readied a fresh change of clothes for him. John looked pleadingly at her retreating form. God...his worse nightmare was coming true.