Author: The Wanlorn
Title: A World in a Grain of Sand 13/?
Summary: This is a sequel to "Every New Beginning…"
Rating: PG13 for language
Spoilers: I honestly don't know, so beware.
Distribution: Ask, and ye shall receive. Take without permission, then screw the Law of Three, I will cures you with the nefarious curse of…da da dum…WRITER'S BLOCK!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
Disclaimer: Same as all of the last times, so far. The girl is mine, the vampire is not. Go figure.
Chapter Thirteen
Natalie sighed and opened her laptop. She had gotten back to sleep last night and not had any more nightmares, which was good. But she was going stir-crazy, so she decided to get caught up on some paperwork. Janette was gone before anyone woke up, and she had told Nick what Janette had said to tell him. Abel was sitting on the couch, watching 'Ren and Stimpy'. Boys would always be boys - she could hear him laughing quietly, the most he laughed since she met him.
Before she could plug her computer into the phone jack, the phone rang. She picked up the receiver, expecting it to be Nick checking on her, and had to move it away from her ear almost immediately as Janette's voice screeched out.
"Nicolas! Did you see what he did to my club! He ruined it! He destroyed it! He-"
"Mind toning it down a bit for the poor mortal?" Natalie broke in.
There was dead silence on the line for a few seconds. "Sorry, Natalie. I am used to Nicolas living alone."
Natalie could hear the carefully controlled anger in her voice. "Nick's at work, if you want to try his cell."
There was a pause. "Are you busy?"
"No, I'm bored out of my mind."
"Do you mind?" Janette asked,
"Not at all," Natalie said. Abel was now leaning over the back of the couch, watching her. He had grown more at ease around her, but more nervous in general. It was odd.
Janette took a deep breath. "Did you *see* what he did to my club? To *my* club? It's been destroyed! Do you remember what it was like before?" Natalie murmured an affirmative. "And have you seen it since I sold it to LaCroix? He's killed it! The bastard turned it into a… a gothic club for low-lifes!"
She trailed off into French, so Natalie went and curled up in Nick's chair in front of the TV. Abel watched her closely as she moved, and for a few moments after she sat. Then he turned back to the TV. 'Ren and Stimpy' was probably the stupidest, most asinine carton she had ever seen. But the slight smile on Abel's face as he watched the cat and Chihuahua made her stop from asking him to change it.
Janette went on for a while before she said anything in English again. "Merde! What, Patrick?"
Natalie could hear the boy's voice. "I wanted to know if you were going to make supper or if I could order out."
"Eh, I'll come make you something. Hold on. Natalie?"
"I'm still here."
"Thank you for listening. Oo, I'm going to kill him, though… You listen much better than Nicolas. I have to go make Patrick supper."
"Bye Janette."
"Goodbye, Natalie."
The phone clicked in her ear as she got up and put it back in its cradle. Abel was watching her again. It was odd. If any other man had been staring at her as much as Abel, she would have sicced Nick on them. But Abel, he kept his eyes on her in case there was a blow coming. Right now, however, his eyes also held a question he didn't dare ask.
"What?" she asked, coming back into the living room piece of the big room.
His eyes flicked away quickly, back to the TV, fear suddenly filling them. She changed her direction and sat on the couch next to him, touching his shoulder slightly, gently to get him to look at her. She was surprised when he flinched and whimpered softly.
"Hey honey. I just wanted to know what you wanted to ask me. It's okay. Never mind." When she touched him, she could feel him shaking slightly. What was wrong all of a sudden?
Abel watched her for another couple moments before returning his attention to the TV. 'Scooby Do' was on now. Natalie was very patient, waiting for him to say or do something that would clue her in. Slowly, surreptitiously, he was moving closer to her. By the time the Mystery Team solved their mystery and Scooby and Shaggy got their Scooby Snacks, there was only an inch or so separating them. Highly unusual.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him nervously lick his lips and turn to look at her. Wondering what was up, she turned to meet his eyes. Unsurprisingly, they were filling with unhappy tears.
"Abel, honey, what's the matter?" She gave into the temptation that had haunted her every time he looked like this - like a beaten puppy. He flinched as she reached out and gently ran her fingers through the short hair on the side of his head. As she was pulling away, realizing he wasn't ready for a comforting caress, he leaned into her hand. A few small tears spilled over his lower lids.
She returned her hand to the beginning and ran it through again. "Do you want to talk at all, sweetie?"
He shook his head slightly, drawing his knees up to his chest. Natalie could feel the heat radiating from his skin as she stroked his head - he was burning up. She stopped her stroking and slowly moved her hand around his shoulders, waiting for him to protest. He trembled slightly under his thin T-shirt, but didn't flinch or make a noise. Ever so gently, she pulled him so he was leaning on her. He did not let go of his knees, but after a few seconds of her just rubbing her hand up and down his arm, he relaxed and rested his head on her shoulder. She could feel his hot tears dripping on to her shirt.
"Oh, sweetie," she murmured, "you're burning up. You need to see a doctor." She could feel the sobs shaking silently through his body.
"No, I'm fine," he sobbed out loud.
He was burning up, but it was a dry heat. He was not sweating, which wasn't good. "Honey, you have to have a temp of at least 103. I'm a doctor, sort of. At least let me check you out." She could not begrudge anyone who hated doctors.
He pushed away from her, scrambled away from her. "No, I'm fine. Really." His tear-streaked face was panicked.
Natalie held out her hands. "It's okay. Abel, it's okay. I'm not going to make you do anything. It's okay." She paused and regarded him, quaking at the other end of the couch. "You've got that 'I desperately need a hug' look again, sweetie."
He stayed at his end for a moment, then literally crawled across the couch to her. She wrapped her arms around his hot, skinny body, cradling him. His body shook with his sobs. His *silent* sobs.
"It's going to be okay, Abel," she whispered into his ear. "Whatever it is, it's going to be okay. But I can't help you if you don't talk to me." He clung to her tighter, sobbing harder.
Abel cried as Natalie held him. Oh God, he felt… safe right now, like he could cry without fear of being punished, allow her to touch him without feeling pain. How could he tell her? What if, once she knew… Even so, he only had one more week. He needed to find somewhere else… if only for a day or two. He might have to go ask… them… for help.
Just the thought made him sob harder. Natalie held him tightly, but not too tight, not enough to make him freak out. She ran one hand through his hair over and over, petting him. He luxuriated in the contact between them, human contact he craved but did not know how to ask for.
When he was slightly calmed down, Natalie started again. She was *really* worried about him. "Abel, seriously. You're really warm."
He tensed up; so she let him go, let him scoot away. "I'm fine," he sniffled.
Natalie grabbed his hands, even though he flinched away, knowing she was pushing it. "Sweetie. Abel, look at me so I know you're really listening." He dragged his eyes to meet hers. "Just let me take your temperature and look at your throat to make sure you don't have strep, or something like that. Quick, easy, and painless. I promise."
He looked at her, not trying to pull away anymore. "Okay," he whispered.
She squeezed his hands gently and got up to grab the thermometer. She found the flashlight while she was up, too. When she came back, his eyes were very big, very blue, and very scared. She put the flashlight on the coffee table and sat down next to him. He watched her every move. What in the world made him this afraid of being sick? On second thought, she didn't really want to know.
"Just a thermometer," she said, handing it to him. "Okay?" He ran his finger down to the tip and nodded quickly, handing it back. "Open up," she said, expertly sticking it under his tongue. "Okay." When it beeped a minute later, she took it out. "104? Sweetie…" The tears in his eyes stopped her; instead, she picked up the flashlight. "Open wide and say 'ah'."
His eyes rolled in their sockets, watching her closely as she looked down his throat with the flashlight. Satisfied, she switched it off. "The good news is, no white patches, so you don't have strep. The bad news is that, with a fever of 104, you should have something."
"I'm fine, I promise," he said, trembling. "My temp'll stay this high, or go up a little for a week, then it will go back to normal. I promise."
"Okay. I believe you. It's okay, sweetie." Despite his fear, he had spoken as though it had happened before. He wasn't lying, she was positive about that.
He watched for a long moment as she sat there and watched him. Finally, he crawled back over to her side. It was odd, more of a slink than a crawl. Instead of being awkward, as usual when a human crawled, it was graceful - almost feline. He stopped right next to her, not quite touching. If she wanted him nearer, she would invite him.
Which she did, lifting her arm up so he could come next to her. He sat down, crying silently again. They were so nice to him. What was he going to of if he couldn't come back? If he went to the others for help, they would probably just keep him. And he couldn't go back to that life - he would kill himself first.
Natalie ran her fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down. He was absolutely petrified of something, but since he would not tell her what, the most she could do was try to comfort him in general. And now that he wasn't shying from physical contact, she wasn't about to discourage him.
~~~~{@
The next night, it was pouring rain fit to beat Jesus. As Nick and Natalie slept late in their bed, another couple cuddled in a different bed.
"You need to shave, Javier. Your stubble's growing into a beard."
Vachon rubbed the scratchy side of his face against Tracy's cheek. "You think so, Querida?"
"Mm, yes," she murmured, snuggling closer to him. He happily held her closer, loving the feel of her silky skin rubbing against his. He wanted her body just as much as he wanted her blood, now and forever. Vampires weren't known for their fidelity, but with Tracy, he was willing to give it a shot.
"Vachon?" Her heads nestled perfectly on his chest.
"Querida?" Her hair was as soft as goose down. He would never tire of running his fingers through it and hearing her murmurs of appreciation.
"Why did we stay in Toronto? Not hat I'm complaining, but I thought once I was brought across, we would have to leave."
Vachon laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Technically, we were supposed to. But Knight had the General pull a few strings with the Enforcers."
"I'll have to thank him tomorrow night at work."
They cuddled happily, neither wanting to get up, not even to feed. Both would be happy to stay like this forever. Suddenly, they stiffened as a sense of danger washed over them. Tracy rose up on her elbows and looked at Vachon.
"What the hell was that?" she asked.
"I don't know." Vachon got up, spilling her off of him. "But I hear something." He pulled on a pair of jeans, going commando.
"Hey! Wait for me!" Tracy hopped out of bed after him, taking a bit longer to follow him because she had to find pants *and* some kind of shirt. In the end, she had on a different pair of his jeans and one of his shirts. It felt *very* right to be wearing his clothes.
Vachon motioned for her to be silent as she almost ran into his back. She could now sense another vampire and hear a mortal heart beat, both outside in the pouring rain. Vachon wanted her to stay back, which pissed her off majorly. He was doing the same thing Nick did - protecting her like she couldn't take care of herself. She wanted to beat the male chauvinist out of them both sometimes.
Vachon opened the door to exit the church. His eyes and senses were confronted by the pouring rain, a man, and a girl. It was the same man and girl who had brought him back and informed him of Tracy's peril.
The blonde vampire lay on the ground, already drenched by the deluge of rain. He was pale, even for a vampire, and wasted. His unconscious head was cradled in the girl's lap. The girl, herself, did not look too good for a mortal. She smelled of blood and death - there was no doubt in Tracy's mind that she had been badly cut up.
Of course, the amount of blood on her clothes and their ragged condition was also a dead giveaway.
Vachon stared at the two people in front of him. "Please," the girl begged. If he had only heard her voice and not seen the tears streaming from her eyes and mingling with the rain, he never would have known she was sobbing. "Help us. He's dying."
(A/N: Hm. Is Abel sick? Is he dying? Is he contagious? Is it Ebola? Or is it something else entirely? And what happened to the girl and the vampire? Why are they back? Are they were just for help for themselves? Or are they looking to be helped and help in return? Oh, and I'm taking votes on whether I should kill Abel off or not. Cuz I have a plot in my head that can go with him dead, and one that can jive with him alive.)
