Stranger than Fiction

Chapter 12

There never was any fight that night. Vlad had made good on his threat, in a way none of them had anticipated. When Flabber finished saying that Jo needed an ambulance, Fangula changed himself into a bat and was off like a shot, followed closely by the smaller bat that was his mother. Roland had to duck to avoid them and Rosamund squeaked an apology, though of course he couldn't understand her.

Had he not bitten Jo, Fangula wouldn't have known where to look, but he felt the briefest mental tug that led him in the right direction.

Jo lay at the cliff's bottom, out of her armor and without her sector cycle, both of which had disappeared in the involuntary back-blast. With a shrill cry that carried over to his man-form, Fangula landed at her side; he would have gathered her in his arms if his mother hadn't stopped him. "Don't move her! Don't move her! Her neck, it might be…"

"No!" he clapped his hands over his ears, not wanting to hear. "No…" he said it over and over again, like a mantra, though of course it didn't do any good. His words held no real power, and his fiancée stayed as she was.

He didn't move her, didn't dare, but he carefully lifted her hand as if it were a fragile bird and brought it to his lips, then to his forehead. She was alive, but for how long? And, oh, her face! It had been angelic in its beauty not half an hour ago, but now it was covered in tiny scrapes and bruises. She must have back-blasted before coming to the bottom. The left side of her head was bleeding through her hair, and even now he had to curb his bloodlust. It was only his nature, but it disgusted him. He had never hated Vlad so much as he did now. "Why didn't you…let me go after him?" he whispered to his mother, his voice thin and breaking.

"I feared for your safety." She told him, scanning the skies for any sign of Vlad and finding none. He was, apparently, satisfied that she hadn't lived through it.

"And I feared for hers! And now look what's hap—happened…Oh, Jo…"

Rosamund laid a hand on her son's back as he held Jo's hand to his forehead and broke down crying. She hadn't heard him weep like that since he was a small boy having daymares. It tore at her heart to hear it. Then she heard something else; sirens. "Fangula…son, we have to go. Come, we can't be seen here." She grasped his shoulders, and finally he rose, still sobbing, and let her lead him away into the shadows. "Turn bat, so that they can't hear you." she whispered, and he did so without thinking. She held the small, quivering form close to her and hunkered down to watch, stroking his furry head with her fingers and trying in vain to calm him.

The cliff wasn't an extremely steep one, and Jo would have tumbled instead of plummeting, but such a fall could still be fatal. Had the sector cycle landed on top of her? Had she fractured her skull? Broken her back?

Whether she had or not, the incline of the cliff allowed the paramedics to reach her on foot. After checking her vital signs and fitting her with a neck brace, the counted to three and lifted her onto a stretcher and strapped her in snugly. Rosamund couldn't hear what they were saying, but she doubted that she would understand their technical jargon if she could hear them. Fangula struggled to get loose as they bore his beloved up the hill and into the back of the ambulance. Only then did Rosamund dare to whisper to him, "Hush, my darling, hush. She will be all right. They will take care of her. They would not have moved her so quickly if it were not safe to do so." She only hoped that this would prove to be the case.

* * *

Roland was waiting in the lobby when Art Fortunes and Drew showed up, followed shortly by Fangula and his mother. "Where is she?" Drew asked right away, and Roland told him that she was being examined, but that he had been told nothing beyond that. Drew glanced at Fangula, who flinched and turned his eyes to the floor. It was clear that he had been crying, and that he would most likely begin to cry again if he had to make eye contact with Jo's brother. Rosamund was eyeing Drew with some curiosity, and her careful scrutiny kept him from asking Fangula any questions. Drew wondered at the vampire's appearance; his hair wasn't combed into spikes like it usually was; even under the hooded sweatshirt he wore, his hair had clearly not been gelled. Perhaps the vampire had been caught in the shower, or so Drew reasoned. He still couldn't think—or walk—straight.

An hour later, five figures sat in the hospital waiting room, waiting for news on Jo McCormick. Whether she would be all right was still unclear; they had been told that she had a serious concussion and a broken wrist, as well as a dislocated shoulder. That last injury was easily taken care of, but it was the concussion that was the real cause for alarm. The doctor on call was actually surprised at how little trauma there was after such a fall (this they credited to her armor, but they couldn't tell him that), but head injuries were, as he put it, 'pretty tricky things'. If she suddenly developed a bleed, then there was little that could be done. The gash in the side of her head had been an inch long, and in order to stitch it up a small, coin-sized patch of hair needed to be shaved off. Of course it wouldn't show, but that was the least of their worries.

Fangula sat beside his mother, both of them wearing hooded apparel to disguise their features. Roland sat between Drew and Art fortunes, and Flabber, who was unable to physically be there, kept popping in and out of various objects to hear any updates. All but Rosamund wore identical masks of shock and grief; the vampire woman's face held a look of concern, as well as poorly concealed anger that was directed at Vlad. Fangula had exhausted himself earlier, and seemed to be drifting in and out of sleep. Drew sat quietly, neither looking at anyone nor actually seeing the lamp he was staring at. Roland was tapping his fingers on his folded arms, and he kept glancing at the clock. Art Fortunes was sitting hunched forward on the edge of his seat with his eyes closed and his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his clasped hands. He looked as if he were praying. He very well might have been, but no one was looking at him.

Drew was finally let in to see his sister, and the others were told to go home. Fangula glowered at the doctor before taking his mother aside. "I'm going to see her," he whispered decisively, "If the Commissioner learns that she's still alive…"

"I understand." She told him, "Shall I come with you?"

"No. I…I have to see her alone." he kissed his mother's cheek, and went to stand where he could see Drew come back, but he himself would go unnoticed. Art and Roland had already left the room, and so were none the wiser. Of course, Art would be waiting outside for Drew, who was still incapable of driving safely.

* * *

Rosamund passed the cartoonist, who watched her mistrustfully. She paused, then approached him. "I don't believe we've been introduced, Sir. I am Count Fangula's mother, Countess Rosamund, but you may call me Rose, if you like."

Art nodded uncertainly, "I'm Art Fortunes."

"Am I to understand that you know this girl well? This Jo McCormick?" she inquired, taking note of his unease and keeping her distance from him. She wasn't particularly hungry at the moment, so he need not have worried. Still, she understood mortals rather well, and respected their wishes well enough when she required no blood.

Art nodded again. "I've known her since she was a kid. I hadn't seen her in ten years, though. Still haven't." he glanced pensively at the hospital, obviously worried. "I hope she'll be okay."

"Mortals are resilient." She replied, "And I understand that she is no ordinary mortal."

"A Beetleborg…it's a good thing she had her armor, or…" he winced, and looked away.

"Perhaps you can tell me about her." she prompted.

"What for?" he asked, and she took a deliberate step forward. It was unclear whether his directness annoyed her, or if she just wanted be able to speak without raising her voice.

"My son wishes to marry her. That's why I'm here. You see…our Commissioner is greatly angered by this. It is because of this that she came to harm. I am uncertain as to what happened exactly, but…well, it was not my intention to have her so injured. I tried to warn her; or, rather, I had the phasm warn her, since I know not where she lives. I only wished to meet her."

Art was staring at her, his face pale. "Why would you try to warn her? You can't be happy about this." He said, referring to her son and Jo being in love.

"Only because it would end badly. But my son is a grown man, and so is not required to obey me in such matters. It's Vlad that worried me. I cannot protect my son from him." Then, seeming to remember that she was confiding in a mortal she hardly knew, she drew herself up and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Art called, "How did you know where to find her?" he asked, meaning the hospital.

Rosamund stopped, and looked back. "My son and I found her at the bottom of the cliff, and Flabber gave us directions to this place."

And with that, she transformed into a bat and was gone.

* * *

Fangula tensed when he saw Drew pass through the lobby, but the younger man didn't see him. Seizing his opportunity, Fangula transformed. It took some doing, avoiding the sight of doctors and nurses, and he had to wait for an hour outside the room where Jo lay for someone to open the door. If it wasn't for the security camera, he could have just walked in unnoticed during this time. Finally, however, he was able to zip through the door when it was opened, and hide behind the bed.

When whoever it was had left, he crawled out from behind the bed and transformed, bringing over a hard plastic chair to sit on. Jo was hooked up to any number of machines, which beeped and blipped regularly, but at least she was breathing on her own. Her left arm, from the elbow down, was sheathed in a purple cast. How funny that the Platinum Purple Beetleborg should receive a purple cast.

He reached over to touch her face, his hand shaking, but he was afraid that if he touched her he would hurt her. He got out of the chair and knelt down beside the bed, folding his arms on the mattress and burying his face in them.

"How could this happen? How could he do this?" he thought despairingly, "You can't leave me, Jo. I need you. I didn't know how much I needed someone until Little Ghoul gave us to each other. I didn't know how empty my life really was until my arms were full. Damn it, you can't just act like a mortal and die! You won't be brought back to life, you know. You won't be a part of the living dead like myself and like Mums…even Frankie would probably count, but you will just be gone. My angel, my treasure, I need you! I need you…I need you…"

"Pssst! Fangula!"

Fangula jumped, and after looking in several wrong directions, he spotted Flabber's face in one of the monitors. "What?"

"Is she okay?"

"What does it look like?" he snapped in a sudden rage, gesturing at the bed. "You know as much as we do. She…she could still…Oh, go away! Go bother Mums, or something! Leave me alone!" He put his head back down, unwilling to speak anymore.

Flabber popped out again, leaving them in peace, though not before he saw Fangula give in to his grief.

* * *

"Well?" asked Mums, when Flabber popped back into the room. The phasm was almost in tears…again.

"Well what?" he asked, sitting down in an easy chair that had just conveniently appeared under his butt.

"How's Jo? Why isn't Fangula back yet?" the mummy put his hands on his bony hips. They were the only two in the parlor. Wolfie and Frankie were off making a mess in the kitchen, something that had to do with ice cream.

"Jo's the same. Fang's with her. He all but chased me off." The phasm put his head in his hands and sighed. "You know, my magic can do all sorts of things, but one thing it can't do is heal physical damage…not even when it's needed the most. I can't turn back time. I can't control people's actions very well, or I woulda made that vampire turn back and go home…I can't help her…I can't help him…what good am I?" and he was crying, for the umpteenth time that night.

Mums just stood there, not knowing what to say. Frankenbeans came clomping into the room with a gigantic hot fudge and bugs sundae, which he dropped, and which would have clattered to the floor if Mums hadn't made a dive and caught it. "No cry, Flabber!" he gave the phasm a clumsy pat, and pointed to the sundae. "Look Frankie make! Me make for you, you want?"

"Not hungry…" Flabber mumbled.

"Well, can I have it then?" asked Mums.

Flabber nodded, but Frankie waved his hands and shook his head. "No have, no have!" There was a chase, which ended when Mums tripped, dousing Flabber with the treat.

"Now look what you've gone and done!" Mums groused, giving Frankenbeans a shove.

Flabber scooped some whipped cream from his face with a finger, and guided it into his mouth. "Mmm…yummy." He burst out laughing at how silly he must have looked. "Okay, you guys, you win. Come on, let's go clean up."