2259 – May 14th 0700 Hours
Len had every medical staff working to vaccinate the entire crew. They were almost finished, having been working for hours, but it did little to make him feel better. Liv, God my Liv. He couldn't focus, his mind kept wandering back to the pale, blonde woman who lay on a moveable biobed in his office. She'd not woken yet, though her brain scans said she was sleeping, not unconscious or in a coma. But the simple knowledge that HIS Liv was infected had a devastating effect on his mood.
"So what's the final count?" Jim asked, walking into Sick Bay, looking at the line of people waiting for vaccination.
"Replicating the vaccine was easy, we'll be done within the hour." Len answered, hardly paying attention. "We have eight dead and thirty sick."
"How's my sister?" Jim asked softly. Len glanced at his friend and saw how pale the Captain looked.
"As well as can be expected. She's still sleeping." He answered, wishing he could give his friend some consolation.
"No she's not." Came a hoarse, dry voice from behind them. Len and Jim spun, eyes wide. Liv smiled a broken smile at them. "Hey." She was pale, a little sweaty (probably from the fever), but aside from that she looked fine. "So what's the verdict?"
"You're infected with the same virus as everyone else." Len murmured, wanting to reach out and hold her but keeping himself in check.
Liv nodded. "Okay, so I've got four days or so of usefulness." She rolled her shoulders. "Let's get cracking. Time to solve this bitch."
Liv didn't feel the bravo she was attempting to show. She wanted to curl up and cry, mourn her certain death. I give up now, she scolded herself, and I WILL die. My only hope is to help Len find a cure in time.
"Liv," Len argued, his voice stern and firm.
"No." She snapped, cutting him off. Please, she begged though she was too proud to say it aloud, please don't make me sit around and wait for death. "Len you listen to me. I am going to fight this. I am going to help you find the cure, and when we're done you can scold me for ignoring Doctor's orders. But if I'm dead you can't tell me off."
His lips quirked into an expression that wasn't a grin but it wasn't a frown. "I was going to say you needed to shower and pull on clean clothes."
Sheepishly Liv dropped her eyes from his. "Oh." She nodded, realizing she hadn't changed for over 24 hours. "Okay." She nodded. "See you in half an hour in the biomedical lab." She turned on her heel and walked out. Jimmy followed her.
As soon as they were out of sight of everyone else, safely in her rooms, Jim pulled her into a tight hug. "Liv," he whispered, his voice cracking, "Fuck Livie I'm so sorry." Liv shook her head, trying to dismiss whatever he was apologizing for, but Jim barreled on. "I knew Lily and Pavel had broken up. Chris told me Lily seemed to want revenge. But… I couldn't imagine she'd do this!" He caught her chin and made her look up, into his face. He was crying, tears running freely down his pale face. "You're going to solve this, you and Bones. You're going to be fine." It sounded to Liv as if he was trying to convince himself more than her.
Liv pulled on what little fake bravo she had left in her and smiled cheekily. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Jimmy." She assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Now go away and let me shower."
It was as if all he needed was to hear her say it. Jimmy brightened, his cheeks gained some color, and he smiled a watery smile. "Yea, okay." He kissed her forehead and left the room. It was only when she was safely in the shower, the hot water beating down on her, that Liv let herself breakdown.
I'm so sorry Jimmy. She thought, leaning against the glass and crying, her whole body wracked by sobs. I'm sorry I lied to you. There was no doubt in her mind that she would die. Hemorrhagic Small Pox was deadly to all but 5% of the general population centuries ago, when an immunity was selectively advantageous. There was no hope she would survive unless she found a cure in time.
Pavel believes in you. Whispered a nasty little voice in her mind. You said you'd cure him or die trying. Now you really have to, cure him – and thus yourself – or die.
"Pavel," she whispered. I won't fail him. I can't. And I can't leave Jimmy. He needs me as much as I need him. She didn't want to think about what would happen to him if she died. He turned into a regular thug when I left for school, and I was only a day's transport away.
"No," she whispered to herself, forcing back the tears and making herself stand up, ignoring the aches and dizziness. "I won't let Jimmy or Pavel down. I survived Sam and Frank, I can survive Small Pox."
1956 Hours
Len looked at yet another body. "Incinerate her, Nurse. We'll keep her remains for her family, just like everyone else."
Chapel nodded. "Yes doctor." She whispered. Len turned but hesitated when Christine asked, "How's Liv?"
He glanced over his shoulder at the distraught looking nurse. "She's holding it together." He answered. She couldn't open the tightly closed vials due to the weakness. She had dizzy spells, her stomach was queasy, she could hardly keep any food down; but she was determined. "She's in the biolab, trying to figure this out."
"Does… does she have a chance?" Christine whispered.
No. Len's honest, logical side answered. YES! His emotionally driven half retorted. My Liv is going to beat this. But there was no rationality to that thought. Just because she was his, which she really wasn't, didn't mean she would survive when others would not. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "I hope so." He left before she asked another question he didn't have an answer for.
Liv looked up at him as he entered the biolab. Spock stood beside her, dry erase pen in his hand. "Spock had a thought." Liv explained, probably seeing his glare toward the damned Vulcan.
"It better be a good one. We don't have time to waste." He growled.
"How's Pavel?" Liv asked softly. Len had made the boy move into an isolation room to be closer to the medical staff.
"Seizures have started." He answered honestly, wishing he could lie to protect her. "He's weakening; but he's staying positive, he's got hope."
Liv nodded. "No one told him it was Lily?" She asked, dropping onto a stool as her face paled suddenly.
Len fought the urge to steady her himself, knowing she'd yell at him. "No. I gave strict orders not to even think about it around the boy."
She leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes. He itched to touch her, reassure himself she was alright even though he knew she wasn't. "Good. I don't think he'd handle it well."
"I believe," Spock interrupted, placing the marker beside Liv on the counter, "that this chemical structure shall help bind to the virus more efficiently than the previous one."
Len looked it over and felt a grudging flash of respect. Damn… he might be right.
2259 – May 15th Sometime after noon
Len glared at the cultures. "Nothing?" Liv asked, interpreting his silence correctly.
"Nothin'." He affirmed, throwing the cultures into the biohazard container. "FUCK!" He yelled, letting himself have a brief moment of temper.
Small, too warm hands curled around his wrists. Liv made him turn toward her and wrapped her feverish arms around his waist, hugging him. "We'll get it." She promised. "We'll figure it out Len."
He tightened his arms around her, startled and relieved that she would approach him when he was in a temper, despite their friendship. She's the one dying and still she's keeping ME cool. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and let himself go for just a moment. What will I do without you? He wondered, realizing just how much he relied on her, just how much she meant to him. If she died in two weeks it would make his whole life implode. Jocelyn had thrown him for a loop when she left him. Suppose this is what it really means to be in love. He thought. Sure I loved Jocelyn… but never like this.
So don't fail her. Whispered the dark part of his soul that would kill to protect what he considered his own. He kissed her hair, feeling her tense a little, and let her go. "Let's get back to it." He murmured, turning his back on her, driven by the black fire in his gut.
1957 Hours
Liv glanced up at Len from across the small table in his quarters. She'd never had dinner with him in such a personal setting. Sure, she'd been in his quarters quite a few times but it felt… different. Well I am dying, she thought bitterly.
But as soon as the thought crossed her mind she knew it wasn't true. There was something between them that was good… warm… right. He didn't mean what he said. He's interested but we're all wrong. He's six years my senior for Christ's sakes… He's the dad of the kid I nannied for. She knew that didn't matter though.
"You talked to Joey recently?" She asked, following that little side-tangent from her current thoughts, which were dangerous to consider.
Len shook his head. His hair was getting a little long and it swished closer to his eyebrows than usual. His brow furrowed and he brushed it absently aside. Liv fought a small smile. "Been too busy with the virus. But I talked to her the day it all started to break loose so she knows I'm just busy."
Liv nodded. "Good. So she doesn't know I'm sick. She's not worrying." Len's eyes darkened but he said nothing. She shrugged. "I don't want her worrying too, Len, you do enough for the two of you combined."
His eyes narrowed. "You don't seem to be doing enough."
Liv bit back a bitter snort. You don't know the half of it. She thought bitterly. I'm on my deathbed, I am a dead woman walking, and I can't STOP worrying about it. I'm just trying to play it cool. "You're worrying enough for me as well." She teased instead. "So let's not talk shop, okay?"
"Liv," he interrupted, annoying the hell out of her. "Another three patients died today. That's twelve total, and some are dying in less than a week, some are dying in ten days. We can't afford not to talk shop. We're on a deadline, literally!"
She didn't let him get a rise out of her. "So, read any good books lately or is it all medical journals for you?" She leaned back in her chair, ignoring the twinge of pain she felt along her back. Stupid aches and pains. "I hardly know a thing about you, just that you love your daughter and your horses."
"We have to talk shop, Liv." He pulled out a PADD. "We can get to know each other better later."
Alright, this is clearly not working. She thought annoyed. "I'm going to go visit Pavel. You keep working if you insist." With that she stood up and stalked out of the room, attempting to embody righteous indignation. She had a feeling it looked more like a sulk.
Pavel looked awful when she reached his room. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, his skin was flushed, his lips chapped, his eyes – when he opened them – blood red. "Hey man." She whispered, walking into the room and sitting beside him.
"Liwie." He greeted, his voice cracking.
"Here," she murmured, "let me." She grabbed a glass of water and gently sat him up. Bracing his burning hot back against her chest she carefully helped him sip the water. His lips cracked and bled. She wiped it up.
"Am I awful?" He asked, tipping his head back against her shoulder.
"No." She lied smoothly, smiling down at the boy she considered a brother. "No you look great." Oh God, she thought, Oh God he's getting worse faster than the others. Oh God, he might just die…
"You…" he cleared his throat, "look pale." He tried to reach out to her, to touch her face (or so she thought) but he was too weak. He managed to raise his arm a few inches off the bed and hold it there, trembling, for a moment before dropping it back onto her thigh.
Liv laced her fingers with his. "I'm not getting enough sleep, Pasha." She said softly, using the nickname she'd heard Chris call the boy. "Don't you worry about me, just hold on until I can make you better." She smiled teasingly. "We've got your eighteenth to celebrate, remember?"
He smiled weakly, his eyes drooping. "Yes, my bwirthday. I will bee legal."
"Not like that's stopped you." She teased.
"Mmm," he mumbled, his eyes falling completely closed and his breathing evening out.
Liv glanced up at the nurse as he walked in a minute later. "How's he doing? Really?" She asked, brushing back his sweat-soaked curls.
The nurse, whose name Liv had forgotten, looked unemotional as he said, "He's worse than the others. He's progressing faster. I dunno why. He looks like he might survive for ten days total, as opposed to the fourteen."
Liv glared. "Don't you dare say such things when he's conscious, do you hear me?" She snarled, seriously enraged by the apathy the nurse showed. "You have to keep his spirits up." She glanced at the chart that she held in her free hand. "And give him more fluids via IV, and a few doses of vancomysin."
"On who's authority?" The name-less nurse asked in a rather rude tone.
"Mine you idiot." She snarled. "Liv Kirk."
"You don't have the authority to…"
"But I do." Len growled from directly behind the nurse. It did Liv a little good to see the man leap into the air, startled. "Do as she says or I'll be finding you a post on the most disgusting backwater planet I can."
"Right away Doctor." Whimpered the nurse before he scurried away.
"I enjoyed that too much." Len muttered to himself but Liv heard him.
She grinned wryly. "Naw, I enjoyed it too." Carefully she settled Pavel onto his pillows, making sure they supported his back and neck to help prevent the coughing from waking him. "What's up?"
"You've been here a while, it's nearly 2100 hours. Go to bed, you need the rest." He growled softly, taking her elbow.
"Such a mother hen." Liv muttered but her knees felt weak as she walked and she knew he was right, so she didn't fight him. "You gonna tuck me in and read me a bedtime story too?" She asked teasingly as he frog marched her from Sick Bay.
"If it will get you in bed I'll do what needs doing." His voice was almost gentler when they were away from the prying eyes of the Beta shift medical staff. "I'll feel better knowing you're not working so hard you make yourself sicker, faster."
May 16th 1502 Hours
Len stood beside the incinerator and pressed the start sequence. The chamber began to turn red hot as he watched through the thermo-safe transparent polymer. Three… Three more today and it's hardly three in the afternoon. Fifteen dead… this is worse than the Klingon incident was by far.
But he wasn't as devastated by the turn of events as he had been with the Klingon incident, not until Liv had been infected. Which makes me a terrible man, not caring so much as long as me and mine were safe. He almost hated himself for caring more about Liv's possibility of death than he did about fifteen other deaths. Still though, he thought, nothing I can do about it.
He turned to Christine Chapel. "Pack them up like the rest, Christine." He ordered before walking out of the small, dark room and heading back to the bio-lab.
May 17th 1145 Hours
Liv frowned and picked at her lunch, a vitamin enhanced noodle-like thing. It wasn't pasta but it sure looked like it was supposed to be. Proof medical staff shouldn't attempt cooking. She thought with a little humor, lifting a spoonful to her lips. Her hand trembled. She forced it to steady. Her eyes were red, she'd woken up to pink eyes but they'd darkened over the last few hours. Thank God Len is busy with the most recent deceased crewmembers. She thought. He'd shit a brick if he saw me working with red eyes.
Her hand trembled so badly some of her noodles dropped from the utensil. They didn't land on her shirt, as sometimes happened, but on the floor. Liv set her bowl and spoon down and picked up the whatever-it-was. It went in the garbage. It all would if I didn't NEED the energy. She thought bitterly, as she tried to force herself to chew and swallow the first bite of the would-be-pasta. Lord did they deliberately make it taste like shit?
The door whooshed open. Happily her back was too the door. "Liv." Len greeted her, his gruff voice gruffer and darker than usual.
"Len." She responded, not turning around. She held her bowl out. "Want some?" She asked, half jokingly.
She heard his footfalls stop behind her. "What the hell is that?" He asked, his voice laden with disgust.
"My lunch apparently." Liv muttered. "It tastes worse than it looks."
Len laughed. "Poor filly." He took the bowl from her hand. "I'll go see if I can rustle us up something edible."
"My hero." She chirped, ignoring the endearment and forgetting herself just long enough to turn on her stool and kiss his cheek. Fever's frying my brain cells… She thought as she pulled away. A deep red flooded Len's slightly scruffy cheeks. Mind you… well worth it to see him blush. I didn't think the man could blush.
But of course he caught her eyes and immediately the mood changed. He grabbed her chin. "Fuck! Liv! You were supposed to stay in bed if this happened!"
"I feel fine." She lied. But I don't feel worse than yesterday. She said to herself, trying to make up for lying to him even if he couldn't hear. "It doesn't affect my vision. I can see just fine."
His lips pursed and his brow furrowed even more. God he's hot… is that the fever talking? …No. No he's just always hot. She banished the thoughts from her mind and focused. "You're not taking this seriously Liv! Damnit we lost two more. TWO MORE! That's seventeen dead, woman! If you don't rest you'll end up just like them!"
"But Len!" she argued, feeling her temper rising and struggling to control herself and prevent herself from speaking her mind. I KNOW damnit! I know how many are dead! I know how close I am to being one of them! How can I forget?! "We're so close!" she reasoned. "So close to a cure. Spock's idea was brilliant and we're making headway. But if it's just you it'll take longer."
"You're not taking this seriously! How are you not worried? How are you not scared?" He yelled, dropping his hold on her chin to wave his arms about angrily.
Liv snapped. Tears she'd held at bay since the shower days ago flooded her eyes and streamed down her cheeks before she could stop them. "I AM scared!" She yelled. "Damn it I'm so scared I can hardly THINK!" She grabbed for her own arms, wrapping herself up, as if protecting herself though she wasn't sure from what. "I'm DYING Len! I'm a dead woman walking and I know it!" Maybe it was to prevent herself from falling completely apart…
"I'm so scared but if I stop working it's already won. I'm already dead. And I will NOT give up! For once I have something worth living for that's not just Jimmy. I have friends and family, and you, and Joey… and I'm not going to stop fighting until I drop dead!" Her anger left her in a rush and only the grief remained. "I'm scared." She whispered, dropping her head. "I'm so scared, Len, I don't want to die."
Len wrapped Liv's shaking body in his arms and she slid, slowly, from her yelling to soft, sobbing whimpers. She released herself and clung to him like he was a life raft and she was lost at sea. And he had no clue what to do.
His response to something he couldn't control or fix was anger but his anger had given way as soon as she let go. He hadn't realized that maybe she was holding on to work and her flippant attitude because it was all she could hold on to. He hadn't realized she'd been bottling up so much fear and grief and sorrow. But now he'd broken her defenses and released the torrent of emotions he'd wanted her to show all along he didn't know how to fix it.
So he rocked them slightly side to side, rubbed her back, and murmured soothing things to her, though he wasn't quite sure what. What am I thinking, trying to get involved with her?! He wondered as she slowly calmed down, her whimpers softening, her body shaking less. I'm no good for her! Cantankerous old man like me… All I'd ever do would be make her cry.
"I'm sorry darlin'." He whispered into her golden hair. He didn't know if he was apologizing for pushing her into her little meltdown, or for loving her, or for not knowing how to fix any of it. "I'm sorry." Maybe it was all three.
She sniffled and nuzzled his shoulder, her tear-soaked face turning his shirt damp. "No… I guess it was going to happen sooner or later." She said into his shoulder, her voice a little weak from her tears and muffled by his body. Her hands, which clung to his shirt and upper right arm, tightened slightly. "Probably better you were here than not."
And as awkward as it was, having made her cry and then holding her while she did and failing miserably to calm her down… The thought of not being there when she needed him made him feel even worse. Gently he disentangled them. "I should go get that lunch, huh?" He asked softly, using the voice he typically reserved for when Joanna had nightmares. Her beautiful, if watery, blue eyes looked slightly confused. He nodded to the formula that was still on the wall. "We have a lot of work to do." He murmured. She smiled.
May 18th 0700 Hours
Liv groaned as she rose, slowly, into consciousness. The all over aching she'd almost become accustomed to was much worse than before. She was so uncomfortable she wasn't quite sure how she'd slept a wink, everything hurt. Not just aching like she'd pulled a muscle or worked out really hard. No it hurt like she'd just suffered a beating, a really BAD beating.
She shivered. Oh I am so cold! "Computer," she called, her voice dry and cracking. She took a sip of water from her bedside table. Her arm trembled so hard she nearly dropped the mostly full glass. "Computer," she tried again, "what is the temperature of my quarters?"
"Seventy eight degrees." The computer answered.
Oh shit. She thought, realizing her fever must have risen significantly I the night to make her have the chills. Better not tell Len or he'll forbid me from working today, no matter what he said yesterday. Lifting the thick blankets from her body seemed like lifting weights, they were so heavy. Still she managed it and forced herself to sit up.
That hurt, and it took longer than she would have liked. A glance at the chronometer said it was 0713 already. Crap. She swung her legs to the floor. One, she coached, Two, she took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself, THREE! She rose to her feet. Almost immediately, she didn't even have time to attempt to take a step, her legs gave way under her weight. The muscles were too warm and too weak to support her.
No avoiding it now… She thought, resigning herself to the inevitable. "Computer, call Doctor McCoy."
Silence for a moment before… "Liv?" His voice was worried. "Liv are you alright?"
"No, I'm dead. Somehow I managed to call you though." She said sarcastically. She sighed. "I sort of need you here." She admitted, though it grated to say.
"I'll be right over." He promised before the line went dead. Literally minutes later the door opened and Len walked in, looking totally ready for the day. Damn him, she thought uncharitably as he said, "Problem?" A single brow lifting in a handsome arch as he looked down at her, crumpled on the floor.
"My legs won't hold me anymore." She admitted, refusing to meet his eyes. God how embarrassing…
"Let me." He said simply, curling his arms under her and lifting her easily onto her bed. Wow… she thought, for a moment sidetracked by the feel of being in his arms and having him lift her without trouble, he's way more fit than I thought he was… "I suppose you're refusing to stay here again."
His voice was strangely calm and reasonable… Liv looked into his eyes. They were deep, dark pits of green, snarled with worry. His lips were pressed tightly together and his brow was furrowed, but his voice was level. Odd… Liv thought but she answered, "Yes," as firmly as she could.
Strong arms collected her again and Len basically carried her to her bathroom. He placed her on the lav and opened the shower door. "I assume you can get yourself in there." She'd almost believe he was apathetic, just from the sound of his voice, but she heard the slight crack at the end.
She nodded. "Yea, I'll be fine. And… Could you maybe not tell Jimmy?" He scowled but said nothing to suggest otherwise. She caught his wrist, absently rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand. "Thanks Len." He nodded tersely and walked out.
Twenty minutes later Christine was there to help her dry herself and dress. She even had with her an ancient wheel-chair, used for in Sick Bay only. Liv had to smile. I've always wanted to play in one of those. She thought.
May 19th 1159 Hours
Liv was ecstatic. They'd done it! They'd actually done it! "Len, the culture has died off!" She looked up from the culture dish with the biggest, brightest smile she'd ever smiled. We did it. I told you Pavel! I told you I'd save you!
Len took the dish from her, his features controlled but brightened none-the-less. It would be a bad idea to get too excited, there might be a flaw with the cure but liv didn't care. It was the first bit of good news they'd gotten since the whole mess started nearly a month before. Liv rolled herself back and forth as she waited for Len to finished the scans…
Len's features darkened, his frown deepended. "Damnit." He muttered. "God damnit!"
"What?!" Liv asked horrified. Her heart dropping from her throat to the floor. "It didn't work?!"
Len snorted, angrily. "Oh it worked. But it created a bi-product that's toxic. I dunno if it's deadly at those levels or not. If it is, it'll kill faster than it can cure the Small Pox." He sighed and set the dish down before slamming his hand down on an adjacent table in a fit of anger. "FUCK! We'll need days of research and simulation before we can know for sure."
But… she thought in a hopeless little mental voice, but Pavel doesn't have days to waste. He was so weak. They'd already had to remove two toes and the first phalange of the middle finger on his left hand. The rest were shifting from the red-purple to the dusky black of dead digits…
"I'll go get us some lunch and then we'll get started." He muttered, turning on his heel and walking out. He hesitated at the door and turned back to her. "We'll do it, Liv." He assured her. "We've gotten this far, we'll save you and the kid, I promise."
But as he left Liv knew it was a lie. Pavel didn't have a few days. He needed a cure in twenty-four hours or less, or there was no realistic hope he'd be healthy enough to save. There was a good chance he'd die from the damage already done to his body.
I promised him. Liv thought, staring intently at the culture dish. I promised that boy I'd save him. That he'd celebrate his birthday. …God I think the kids a virgin. How sad would it be for a sweet boy like him to die a virgin? She ignored the fact that in a week or so she'd die a virgin too if the cure wasn't found.
I promised him. She thought. I can't fail him.
But it might kill him. Her sensible side said, sounding weirdly like Len. I have to be sure.
I can't be sure unless it's tested, even if I did do all the simulations Len wants to do. She argued back, feeling just a little crazy for arguing with herself.
You can't test it on a person until after the simulations are run. The Len-sound-a-like argued. It's unethical to test unknown, quite possibly deadly drugs on patients. They can't fully understand the risks.
She snorted. No one can unless they're in the medical field, even if it HAS had the simulations run. It can always go bad once in the body. And all anyone hears is '…possibility to save your life' the rest they don't care about.
That's the law. The practical side said firmly, like it resolved the issue.
But Liv was a Kirk, and aside from the fact Kirk's are known for being creative and out-of-the-box thinkers, they also hate laws. The vial of cure sat on the shelf beside her, archaic syringes beside it and all the other test substance vials to measure how much was dosed to the culture.
But it's not illegal to give it to yourself. She thought firmly, grabbing the syringe, the vial, and drawing up a dose. I'm not going to let Pavel die. She thought, pushing the slightly blunted needle into her vein, which stood out against her thinner than usual arms, and pushed the plunger.
The doors whooshed open. "Liv! God Damnit, woman!" Things clattered to the floor and a cool hand grabbed her weak, feverish one and pulled the needle from her arm. A pad was held to the puncture wound with more force than necessary. Len's face filled her vision and boy was he angry.
His eyes were bright with rage, his brows narrowed, his jaw set. "Damnit Liv! This could very easily kill you!"
She shrugged as best she could given her whole body had started to shake a little from a mild seizure, caused by her fever. "No time," she managed to force out between chattering teeth, "had to test it. Pavel's dying."
"You're dying too woman!" Len yelled. "What am I going to tell your brother when you die?"
"I died… a week… earlier… than I would have. …trying t..t..to save others." She forced out again, biting her tongue as she did.
"I am going to fire you ass if you live through this, woman." He growled fiercly. "Do you hear me?" Actually not really… she thought distantly as her body went numb and her head swam in a way that had NOTHING to do with her fever or the Small Pox. Uh oh… She thought as the world went black, again.