Disclaimer: I don't own Cirque Du Freak.
A.N. Ok! Steve will be redeemed, but that doesn't mean he won't do some nasty things along the way to that.
I awoke in burning agony, writhing in the hammock with startled cries. My back ached and stung like something was being carved into it with a red hot poker. The next twist of seized muscles sent me pivoting out of the hammock and onto the bed where I twitched madly before falling onto the floor. I was thankful the trailer was devoid of life; Mr. Tiny, Evanna and Debbie had stayed in separate trailers with other injured Cirque members. I screamed again and clutched at the floor, digging my nails deep into the wood before I rolled away and slammed into the wall, vomiting up the meager dinner from last night. My back arched one last time and then the pain vanished, leaving me sweaty and trembling on the cold floor. I couldn't move. Every muscle had tensed up and I could only shake uncontrollably. I tried to twitch toward Debbie's cell phone, laying on the floor from where I had knocked it off the table but could only manage a slight voluntarily flick of a finger. I stopped trying and lay there, sucking in deep panting gasps of air. When I worked up enough energy I lunged and palmed the phone, groaning as another, smaller wave of pain shot through my back, this time originating from the injury in my shoulder.
I frantically pressed buttons on the phone until someone's speed dial began to ring. I had no idea who would pick up the phone. When a scratchy, unknown voice said "hello," I couldn't make my voice respond for a terrifying minute.
"Darren. Trailer." I croaked. The phone slipped from my fingers and I yelled as another wave of pain swept through me. I rolled over the phone, hitting the End button and dry heaved. I curled into a small ball, pressing into the corner of the trailer and wished I could die. By the time I heard the trailer door slam open; the pain had faded to an almost manageable throb. The sound of the door banging off the wall made my head ache and I groaned feebly. Hands pulled me upright and I tried to pull away, slipping on wetness underneath my feet. My eyes wouldn't open; they felt like ten ton weights pulled them down. I gave up and sagged helplessly, allowing myself to be led a few feet and set down stomach first on the bed.
"His back reopened," I heard a male voice say, though whether it was Evra, Harkat or any other nameless male in the camp I couldn't have said. "But look how red his skin is here, almost burned." A cold finger traced a spot on my back, below the gash on my shoulder and I shivered. "His wound was well on the way to being healed from the salve. Whatever caused this wasn't natural."
"Darren…" A worried female voice said urgently, adding something else that I couldn't understand.
I really wanted to answer the woman, who sounded pleasant enough. But my muddled thoughts were making it very hard to concentrate and I blinked uncomprehendingly. The fingers came back, this time probing the source of the burning and I whined as another, much shorter bolt of pain wove lazily up my spine. They didn't stop moving though, tracing a path across my shoulder blades and back down to my lower back. Each time they pressed down even slightly, more pain came until I wanted to bite the person sitting on the bed beside me.
"Get me the salve," the male voice ordered.
When the female passed by I pulled in a ragged breath and froze in surprise. I could smell ten times more then my vampire senses had allowed before. A nutty flavor flowed into my nostrils, along with the sharp tang of fear and worry. When the male moved, apparently to take the offered salve, I caught the sharp scent of ocean air and concern. Another weight settled on the bed on my other side. 'Just once could I wake up normally?' I thought hopefully.
When the woman spoke again, I was relieved to find I could just make out her words. "What about the wound he got from Steve? He applied the salve everywhere he was aching, which was quite a lot of places."
"You think the salve was tampered with?" The man asked, a harsh note of anger in his voice, though I could tell the anger wasn't directed at the woman he was speaking with. He rolled me onto my side and I heard a collective gasp from both of them. I longed to open my eyes and see what was going on. There was no pain in my stomach at all. Then I felt something running down the back of my thigh, all the way to my knee. It wasn't the touch of salve (I was still clothed in loose sweat pants) nor the touch of the people next to me. It felt almost like the brush of feathers. The feeling stayed wrapped around my knee, like a tight sock.
"Did you see that?" The woman asked and I felt a rush of relief. Debbie.
"See what?" The man asked and I felt another thrill, this time of aversion. Mr. Tiny was here. Of course he was. Who else would it possibly be?
"There was something on his stomach," Debbie said. "But…never mind it was probably just the light."
The two propped me up and my head fell back gently against a large stack of pillows. Now I was more then determined to get control of my body back and run as far away as possible. I struggled to move until I was sure Debbie and Mr. Tiny could see me sweating. Something hit the floor, clanging loudly and I twitched a finger.
"Feathers," I muttered uneasily and blinked fuzzily.
Debbie jumped. "Darren!" Her face was a peach blob and I blinked again, trying to bring her into focus. "What happened?"
Mr. Tiny pulled me upright and my head lolled sideways. He placed a bottle to my lips without answering and I tasted blood on my teeth. Normally I would have protested outright, but my stomach growled at the smell, and I opened my mouth compliantly to drink. As the blood rushed down my throat I brought the room back into focus. The first thing I glanced at was Mr. Tiny, holding me up with one hand and pouring blood into me with the other. His eyes were fixed on my stomach but he must have sensed me looking at him because his gaze darted up to mine. I looked away before our eyes met. When the bottle was empty he laid me back on my side and I heard the lid of a jar unscrewing.
The salve was pushed under my nose and I wrinkled my nose at the fresh rancid smell I was getting from it. I coughed.
"Is this what you used last night?" Mr. Tiny asked. "Exactly the same thing?"
I nodded. "Yes," I rasped. "But it…smells…bad now." Thankfully the salve was pulled away and I could breathe properly again. I still felt weak and shivery, like I was coming down with a bad case of flu and my back ached but at least I had some movement back. Mr. Tiny got off the bed and went into the other room with Debbie. I heard them pulling medical supplies out of the closest and grimaced. There was no way I was sitting still and letting both of them bandage me up. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and the room spun. I waited, taking in deep breaths of air until I was able to grip the edge of the side table and stand up. Each shuffling step felt like a mile until I reached the mirror beside the hammock. There I caught sight of my reflection and gasped. My face was deathly pale, except for a single trail of blood running down my chin. My torso was covered in bloodstains, most coming from my back but a few from the scar at my stomach which was bleeding. There was no wound, but a sluggish trail of blood came from it. When I twisted to see my back I blanched. My back wound had indeed opened up again, but the bleeding seemed to be slowing. What was more disturbing was the burn marks littered across my back.
I leaned against the mirror and my breath clouded the surface. I didn't understand how a salve tampered with or not could cause that much damage. When a hand touched my shoulder I yelped and the feathery feeling which had been gliding around my waist shot back down. "There it was again!" Debbie said loudly and she steered me back toward the bed, sitting me firmly on it.
I stared at her blankly. "What?" A sudden urge to protect that feeling, whatever it was overcoming me and I felt a strong urge to shrink away when she began to roll up my pant leg. Mr. Tiny emerged from the bathroom carrying several bandages and stared at Debbie.
"There was what again?" He asked and set down his load on the bed.
I jerked my leg away when the pant leg was almost to my knee. "Just leave it alone!" I said piercingly and pushed down my pants. The feathers settled around my knee once again and I breathed a little easier. To avoid further discussion I tried to stand up again and was pushed back down.
Mr. Tiny unrolled the bandages and pulled a fresh jar of salve out of his jacket. With two fingers he spread the cream across the length of the cloth. I sat frozen. If Mr. Tiny put those on me he might discover what was that resting in the crook of my knee. When he came toward me, his hands glowing faintly I shot upright again and keened in pain.
"Darren sit still," Debbie said and pulled me back down.
There was nothing I could do to prevent Mr. Tiny from laying the first stretch of bandage on my shoulder and tucking it under my armpit. The second the salve began to soak into my skin the hurt slowly faded away. Whenever he made a full wrap around my body he muttered something and touched the bandages. Like the first time I had used the salve my eyes began to droop. Drowsiness was a side effect few escaped from using the salve and I was no exception. By the time Mr. Tiny finished my shoulder I was no longer fighting Debbie's grasp, instead hovering in a light doze.
"Try to stay awake," Mr. Tiny reprimanded, snapping his fingers next to my ear.
I ignored him.
"Stay awake or I'll put you on my lap to finish this," Mr. Tiny said a trace of amusement in his tone.
That got me to open my eyes. I glared at him. "You wouldn't," I said uncertainly. But by his scent, I could tell he was deadly serious.
"Darren what do you remember from using the salve?" Debbie asked quickly, before I could take vengeance.
I shook my head. "It went on and took the pain away fine. I went to sleep and woke up feeling like I was splitting open." I was sitting upright by myself now. Debbie had released me and sat in front, legs crossed. Mr. Tiny was behind, preparing another length of bandage.
Debbie frowned. "Any idea how you got the burns on your back?"
"No."
Mr. Tiny turned me around so I faced him and probed the scar on my stomach. His face was back to being mask like, but there was a strange intensity in his eyes. Apparently satisfied he wound the bandage around my stomach and back, covering both burns and scar completely. All the fight had gone out of me again. The nauseous, shaky feeling was back.
"I think its still affecting me," I said reluctantly and blinked away spots in front of my eyes. The bed rushed up to meet me.
"He's burning up!" Debbie cried.
"Whoever changed the salve knew exactly what they were doing damn them," Mr. Tiny snapped. "But no one else is sick. Evanna would have said something by now."
Cold rags were laid over my protesting body and I fought against them. Didn't they understand I was cold? My teeth chattered until my jaws ached. Someone else entered the room and I lashed out with brick heavy arms, trying to keep the shapeless blobs away from my legs. Heavy weights settled themselves on my legs and arms and I arched, mouth opening and closing. I couldn't tell if I was making any sound. Buzzing filled my ears until I wanted to rip them off to end it. Panicked I reached toward the bond Imoo and I shared and screamed at it, begging him to stop what was happening. When nothing came through but a jumble of pictures I couldn't understand I howled in frustration and faded away.
The light fluttering of book pages flickered above my head. It penetrated the shield I'd build around myself and drew me out. I cracked open my eyelids and parted parched lips. I was curled into a tight ball among a nest of thick blankets. Another page turned. A tiny beam of light shone between the top of the blankets and my head, shining on my hands which were wrapped in the blankets too. I flexed them and winced. Every muscle ached. It felt not unlike the days after I'd blooded Darius.
"Water," I begged.
The book shut abruptly and a glass was brought to my lips, the cool liquid washing down my throat. I drank until the glass was empty. A fresh sea scent washed over the blankets and I sighed. A deep hunger rested in my stomach, one that wouldn't be sated by food. For now I felt nothing towards Mr. Tiny, and the emptiness accompanying his name was strange. He brought another glass of water to my lips and I drank it down just as desperately as the first. This time when he pulled away, I barely kept from biting down on the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. I wanted blood so much I didn't care where it came from.
I smelled blood and would have launched out of the bed had I had the energy too. Instead I had to wait torturously long as Mr. Tiny punctured a bag. He brought it toward me and I didn't wait for him to offer the ripped part. I sank my teeth into the plastic, spitting it out and sucked greedily at the crimson contents. When the bag was drained I leaned back into the pillows with a contented sigh of relief.
"We had to drug you with a heavy sedative," Mr. Tiny said after I had finished licking blood from my lips. "To keep you from hurting yourself." He looked me over. "And it won't wear off for a bit longer." I got the impression that something was distinctly amusing to the man about the situation. "But seeing as you are awake I will assume you can listen and absorb, even if you cannot offer coherent suggestions in reply."
I said nothing to the contrary.
"The salve was indeed changed," Mr. Tiny said. "A poison meant for vampires was put into the salve with such precision that the effects wouldn't have happened until well after you were asleep. It was supposed to reopen your wounds to such an extent that you bled to death. The interesting thing was that magic was woven into the poison as well. It sent you into seizures. You have been in this room for a week. The fever only broke last night."
I had no reply to this information and curled back into a tight ball. I wasn't wearing bandages anymore and I wore a different pair of sweat pants and a loose t-shirt.
"Do you hate me Darren?" Mr. Tiny asked unexpectedly. It seemed like he was testing me.
I looked at him from under a fringe of hair and frowned. "No," I said confusedly. "Should I?" I knew I should hate him, knew he had done something unforgiveable but I couldn't remember what. And it didn't matter enough to wonder what I was forgetting.
"That's the medicine talking Darren," Mr. Tiny said sternly. "Do you hate me?"
I hesitated. "Yes and no," I finally decided and then lapsed back into the haze. "But you smell like ocean," I said cheerfully. "I've always wanted to go to the ocean." Another thought occurred to me. "Evra told me you can teleport," I added through a yawn. "Can you teleport to the ocean?"
Mr. Tiny looked taken aback and then he snorted. "I can only "teleport" to select places."
I rambled on. "Are they boring places? Like the desert? I mean sand is all hot and stuff, but there is nothing to see but cactus. Brazil would be a better place. Oh yeah, I forgot you can go to the Lake of Souls. What do you think a dragon would do in the desert? Get cactused to death? I wish I had some of those when Harkat and I went there." I paused to take a breath.
"Darren," Mr. Tiny said smiling. "You will not thank me later if I don't quiet you now."
I flopped back down onto the bed, stretching out. "Darren's not home right now," I said absentmindedly. "I think he is out shopping." I put my hands in the air and counted my fingers out loud while Mr. Tiny sat next to me his face a picture of disbelief.
Eventually I wore myself out and lay quietly, admiring the shapes on the ceiling. Mr. Tiny seemed to be having a internal struggle and I guessed he had come to a decision because he spoke. "You said you don't hate me, yet you do?" Mr. Tiny said.
"I don't hate you," I said restlessly. "Unless you are the one who took my cookies. Then I would hate you. I only got one of those."
"I meant," Mr. Tiny said patiently. "That Darren hates me."
"Oh," I said enlightened. "Yep. He hates you all right. In fact he would probably try to kill you if there wasn't the fact that you were helping the Cirque." I struggled to remember what else Darren was thinking. "I guess he is confused about that. He doesn't believe that you really changed, but the proof is smacking him in the face."
Mr. Tiny set down his book. His face blanked.
"He doesn't like when you do that," I said quickly. "It makes you look creepy."
"Really?" Mr. Tiny said and his face cleared, taking on a relaxed expression.
"Yep," I said in agreement. "Now can I have a cookie? I never did find mine."
Mr. Tiny reached toward a plate and handed me a small sandwich. "I have no snacks, but this should do nicely."
I ate the sandwich while Mr. Tiny watched me curiously. "Is there anything else you want to know?" I asked, yawning and brushing crumbs from my fingers.
"Of course there is," Mr. Tiny said. "But I think our conversation needs to end." He pulled the blankets higher on my chest and I slumped down, curling back into a ball, but more relaxed then before. "Go to sleep," he said, another smile breaking across his features for a brief moment. "Before you awaken enough to actually remember this later." Before I could protest he brushed a hand over my eyes and I went limp.
A.N. R&R please! Reviews make me keep going : D
