Author's note: I have no idea how one would treat an abnormal lizard's bite or the raging fever that comes with it. Please ignore any medical inaccuracies in this chapter.
Tempest in a Teapot
Chapter 26: Reviving Helen Part I
The blood drained from Watson's face. Leaping up, he grabbed the back of the chair as he stared horrified at Helen's body. "My God, John, what have you done?"
"Help me!" he repeated desperately as he came to stand before Watson. "She won't respond and her pulse is weak." His form seemed to positively be shaking with fear.
James placed a hand on her neck and found a pulse, confirming what Druitt said, it was weak. What bothered him even more was how very warm her skin was. That wasn't normal. "What did you do to her?" Watson demanded, glaring at his best friend in anger.
John glared back as he shifted her weight in his arms. "I didn't this to her, you idiot. She was attacked by an abnormal. Now are you going to help me or are you going to just stand there and accuse me of something I didn't do?"
James's eyes narrowed and he stared down at Helen's pale face. "An abnormal? What kind of abnormal?"
"I don't know! Can we argue about this after you treat her?" Druitt barked. Really, James could be the most pedantic twit when he chose to be.
Motioning his head upward, James replied, "Get her upstairs into the guest room. I'll fetch my medical bag and follow." He ignored the red flare signifying Druitt's departure as he bounded out of the library and into the hallway, where he whipped the hallway door open and reached in to grab his black bag. Watson bounded nosily up the stairs two steps at a time and burst through the guest bedroom door with a bang as the door swung back and hit the wall.
Helen was lying atop the bedspread with John leaning over her repeatedly trying to wake her up. He had been lightly shaking her to no avail. He dared not shake her too hard, worried about the blood on her wrapped arm.
"Move," James ordered, pushing him aside and tossing his bag up onto the bedside table. Leaning forward, he began methodically inspecting Helen. She seemed even warmer than before but her pulse was a little stronger. Frowning, James noticed the shawl wrapped around her upper left arm. "Did you wrap her arm?"
John shook his head. "No, I think she must have done that. The abnormal had blood on his face when I found them."
"Tell me about that," James requested as he began to untie the shawl. There wasn't much doubt that dark spots were blood but whose? Helen's or the abnormal's?
Exhaling a nervous breath, John paced behind Watson as he explained about the abnormal's interest in Helen and how she had disappeared while he was getting her the dessert. "When I found them, she was collapsed on the ground, leaning against a stone building, and the creature was standing a few feet away with blood dripping down his mouth and neck. She was still conscious and was talking to me."
Tossing the shawl aside, James fingered the dark stains on her sleeve and felt two holes. "And then what happened?" he prompted as he dived into his bag and retrieved a pair of sharp scissors to cut away the sleeve of her gown.
John swiped at his face as he recalled the next horrible minutes. "Helen seemed to become weaker. When the abnormal asked me what I was, I looked up and saw her blood on him face again and became enraged. I attacked and killed it." He paused, and then continued in a cracked voice. "Afterwards, I heard her call out for me to help her and then she fell unconscious. I haven't been able to wake her since," he said with a sob. If she died because he had failed to protect her, he would never forgive himself. His only duty was to take care of her and he had failed.
James heard his friend's sob and blinked. It took a lot to crack Druitt's cool façade… but then Helen was his Achilles heel. Pulling the fabric away from her arm, he observed the dried blood and what appeared to be two swollen, red wounds. He grabbed a magnifying glass from his bag and positioned it over the wounds. "Did the creature have fangs?" he asked.
"Yes," John confirmed. "How did you know?"
"She has a pair of puncture wounds on her upper arm," Watson replied as he straightened up and dropped the magnifying glass back into the bag. He then pulled out gauze and a bottle of alcohol, doused the gauze with the liquid and quickly went about cleaning the wound.
Helen felt the burning sensation on her arm and her upper body jerked up as she cried out in pain. Her eyes flew open as her right hand grabbed at James' arm. "Stop," she moaned in anguish. Her vision was blurry and she felt as if her body were on fire.
John moved quickly onto the other side of the bed and sat down. "Helen," he called out to her, relieved that she'd finally regained consciousness.
"That's my girl," Watson encouraged as he poured more alcohol on clean gauze and continued to clean her wounds, ignoring the weak hand that tried to stop him. "Wake up, Helen. I need you to tell me what happened." Done with that task, he threw the soiled gauze into the trash bin near the bed and turned back to his patient, whose eyes were closed again. "Helen," he barked, "wake up!" Placing his hand on her neck he noted her pulse was continuing to get stronger but her flesh felt extremely hot.
Helen's eyes opened feebly. "I'm awake," she muttered as she tried to focus on the face closely peering at her. "James?" she asked in surprise.
"Hello, darling," he greeted grimly. "It's been a while. Gotten yourself into a bit of a sticky wicket, I see."
Snorting at that, she exhaled a loud breath. "Nice to see you too. Where's John?"
"Here," he replied, leaning over to touch her face. "You're hot," he complained with a frown and shot a worried look at Watson.
"Too hot," James agreed. "She's burning up with fever."
Breathing hard, Helen groaned, "Franco's bite. I think it had a toxin in it…" She began clawing at her throat with her right hand. "So hot," she moaned. The toxin was battling with her vampire infused blood, causing her body to be inflamed with fever.
"Get her undressed," James ordered the other man. "I'm going to fill up the bath. We need to get her fever down now." He rushed out of the room, leaving the couple alone.
John quickly began unbuttoning her gown as he murmured to her, "You're going to be alright, luv, I promise." Her agitation was making it difficult to remove the gown but he finally managed it.
Helen thrashed her head and began pushing down on her corset, trying to free herself from it. Her fever was causing delirium and her eyes were burning as well. "Can't breathe," she moaned.
"Okay, luv," he tried to reassure her, pulling on the ties to work the corset off. He could see by the way she was unable to keep her eyes focused and her tossing her head in agitation that she was delirious from the fever.
"We can't breathe," she repeated. Her upper body undulated up as she gasped for air. "Take it off," she cried and her hands pushed at the corset again just as Druitt was finally able to pull it free.
James had reappeared by their side, trying his best to stare only above her neckline and not below at her combinations. "We can't breathe? Who is we?" he asked in confusion.
John froze. We? His mind immediately went to the thought of the energy elemental that had tormented him for over a century. Had the abnormal that bit her somehow infected her… or worse, somehow placed a parasite inside her. "Helen, who is we?" he asked wearily, praying that no other abnormal was involved.
She tossed her head again and tried to push down the top part of her combinations. John caught her hands, preventing her from revealing too much. "We," she cried. "Me… the baby… so hot!"
Both men froze. "Baby?" Watson repeated and looked quickly over to his friend who had a dazed look upon his face. "John?"
The tall man's face paled and he shook his head. Their daughter was dead. She must be confused about where she was and was hallucinating that she was pregnant with Ashley.
"Help us!" she cried, trying to pull her hands free from John's grip.
"We need to move her into the water," James instructed. "Her fever is spiking."
Scooping her up, John quickly moved them into the hall bathroom and slowly lowered himself down onto his knees as he tried his best to gently put her into the bath of warm water, which wasn't an easy task given her flailing against him.
Helen squealed loudly as she felt herself sinking into warm water and grabbed at John's shirt. "No, John!" she gasped, clinging to him. "Don't let us drown!" Her head was on fire and her eyes rolled back into her head as dizziness hit her.
Leaning his neck forward in order to prevent her from strangling him with her tight grip on his shirt collar, John kept one arm underneath her and used the other to move the water over her form. "Helen, I am not going to let you drown. I'm just trying to lower your body temperature." He snorted out a loud breath in surprise as a wash cloth suddenly struck him in the forehead before falling in the water.
Watson, with his back to them, had thrown the towel at him. "Make sure to wet down her face and head particularly. Get her to cool down as best you can. We should only leave her in the water for 5-10 minutes at most."
John dunked the cloth into the water and began wiping her face with it. Sputtering, Helen let one hand go of his collar and tried to block the wash cloth. "Stop it!" she ordered as she splashed water around. He squinted one eye shut and made a "thhrpt!" sound as he spit out water as she continued to splash him in the face. "Helen, luv," he pleaded through grit teeth, "just relax." He dipped the cloth back into the water and held it up over her head.
She groaned and muttered "No!" like a spoiled child, then shrieked as he squeezed the wash cloth tight to rain water down over her head. John groaned in annoyance and continued raining water over her head and face. "Calm down, please!" he begged.
Standing in front of the doorway, James rolled his eyes and sighed. So much drama over a short soak in the bath. Mrs. Havers appeared on the other side of the doorway, having heard the commotion downstairs and becoming concerned over the woman's shrieks. "Do you need some help, Dr. Watson?"
A prayer, a gag and perhaps some rope would be of help James thought unkindly but kept it to himself. "A dressing gown would be helpful, Mrs. Havers. Our guest is feverish and we're trying to bring down her temperature," he explained calmly, ignoring John's sudden swearing as Helen yanked him forward into the bath, soaking his shirt and ripping the top two buttons off. The housekeeper's brows shot up at the noise and she gave her employer a most alarmed look. "Hurry," Watson requested. She scurried away quickly down the stairs. "John, how's her temperature?" he inquired over his shoulder.
Panting, John leaned back on his knees and stretched out the best he could without disturbing her. His back was killing him from leaning over and the arm underneath her was cramping. He grabbed a nearby towel and gently wiped the water away from her face. Her eyes were closed, her breathing heavy like his and her body now relaxed in the water. A hand to her brow revealed that the fever had broken and was receding. "Much cooler," Druitt answered in a relieved tone.
"Thank God," James muttered. Any more of this drama and he was going to need some drugs himself. It had been a good while since he'd chased the dragon but his two best friends were seriously making him want to revisit his nasty habit. And never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd be dealing with two Helens and all their dramas at the same time. If this was what it would be like to have a wife and a mistress at the same time he'd pass, thank you very much. Not that Helen in either form was currently occupying such positions in his life.
John shivered slightly as his wet skin reacted to the wicking of heat from his body. A good portion of his upper body was drenched and he was starting to feel the pin prickling sensation in the arm underneath her body which came when one's limb went to sleep. He peered back down at his lover. Her breathing, like his, was now slowing down and becoming more even. Her eyes were closed and with her red hair and white combinations flowing about her body she reminded him of Millais's painting of Ophelia drowning, though her hands were not lifted upright like the painting. He had made sure to keep her head and ears above the water as much as possible.
Noticing she was starting to shiver, John lifted her upper body from the water and wrapped her in the towel. Opening her eyes weakly to glare at him, she mumbled "I hate you. Just so you know" through chattering teeth.
Giving a harsh, soft laugh, he responded, "I love you too," as he reached for more towels. "Let's get you dried off." He then lifted her out of the water, placed her gently onto the rug and began covering her with towels.
Mrs. Havers reappeared with a dark, long robe. Watson thanked her and requested hot chamomile tea to be delivered to the guest room. Staring up at the ceiling, he took three steps into the room and held out the gown. "I'm going to light the fire in the bedroom." After Druitt took the gown, he left the room, pulling the door closed behind him to give them some privacy.
John set to work roughly drying off her shaking body and pulled off her combinations. "So cold," she chattered, holding the towels tight against herself. Helen groaned unhappily as he pulled the towels away to slip the robe around her. Both exhaled a deep breath and reclined against one another, their foreheads touching. "You scared the hell out of me," he uttered softly, giving her a tight squeeze.
"Ditto," she answered. Her head was pounding and her stomach wasn't feeling so great either. John had draped a dry towel over her head which came down almost to her eyes. She reached her good arm back to pull out the pins holding back what had been perfect curls. Her hair now was just a tangled mess of long curls sticking up everywhere and pins dropped haphazardly about onto the floor.
"Let's get you into bed," he said, leaning back to stand. He scooped her up into his arms, kicking the towels aside to make a path to the door. The bathroom was a disaster with water, wet clothes and towels everywhere.
Resting her head against his shoulder, she sighed. "That's the way this night was supposed to end."
He laughed softly in return. "Yeah, I don't think either of us is up for any extracurricular activities tonight." He pried the door open with one hand and walked them across the hall into the bedroom. The bed covers had been pulled back and a fire was crackling in the fireplace in anticipation of their arrival.
Author's note: Part II will be posted in the next day or two…. Ah, the suspense. Will she spill the beans or won't she? Hee hee.