Saving Her
Progression
Disclaimer: Actually, I'm in the process of negotiations. Get back to me
in a few hours.
A/N- I cannot apologize enough for how long it took me to update this. At
first I was too depressed to write (PC's cancellation: need I say more?)
Then I became unbelievably busy with this and that, but I FINALLY updated!
Notice that I still have the disclaimer up, even though there is really no
need for them anymore. I'll keep posting those, for tradition and because
you people keep telling me how much you love them!
"Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! Chirp! Chirp!"
The incessant cries of the birds outside roused Rafe from his slumber. 'Damn birds!' he thought groggily. 'Can't they be quiet for just ONE morning?'
He couldn't believe how tired he was. Although he really shouldn't have been surprised, seeing as the last time he had gotten any sleep was the night he had told Alison she had the disease. Now he was feeling the effects. Every muscle in his body protested against waking up, adamantly refusing to move. He didn't argue with them; sleep was a welcome change from the trauma they had gone through the last few days. He wanted to be free from all thought all knowledge of the terror around him. He wanted to discontinue his fight with evil for just a few more hours, lost in the haziness of his dreams. He wanted to retreat under the warm covers, curled up in Alison's arms.
Oh Alison..He had been having the most wonderful dream about her. They had finally gotten married. The ceremony was in a small but beautiful chapel, where multi-colored light from the stained glass windows sprinkled across the bouquets of pink roses arranged everywhere. A large cross, plain in comparison to the rest of the church but spectacular in its own right, was mounted beside Rafe at the altar. Their friends and family filled the dark wooded benches in which intricate designs were carved into. But Rafe didn't see any of them. All he saw was Alison standing at the back of the church. Her flowing, strapless white gown sparkled as light hit the beads embroidered into it, and her loosely curled hair fell over her shoulders. She held yet another bouquet of pink roses in her hands, with a matching one placed in her blonde tresses. And as she began to walk down the aisle to him, Rafe could almost see a halo and wings on his angel.
"Tweet! Tweet!"
It was useless. He wasn't going to get anymore sleep. His dream was over.
'No,' he thought, more alert now. 'We'll have that. Somehow.'
Slowly, the rest of Rafe's body followed his mind in awakening. His senses began to once again come to life; he could smell Ian's coffee brewing coffee in the kitchen, hear Lucy trying to coax Sigman out of his cage for a vet appointment, and could a warm body in his arms.
Suddenly, Rafe jumped out of bed, the look of shear panic in his hazel eyes as vivid as the brightly printed bed sheet that Lucy had decorated the bed with.
'Alison,' he thought, franticly, as he turned his fiancée on to her back. 'She's so hot!'
Rafe's heart fell as he looked into the face of his angel. It was obvious that she had gotten much worse during the night. She was running a high temperature, her pale face was flushed, and the rattling sound heard when she breathed reminded Rafe of a dying car engine. Blood was coming from her lips, which had dried out and cracked. Upon touching her skin, he found it rather papery; when he gently pinched it, it stayed slightly risen instead of returning to its normal position. She was extremely dehydrated.
"Alison," Rafe said aloud, gently shaking her. "Alison, come on, its time to wake up."
She didn't even stir.
Rafe bolted out of the room as fast as he had the bead, only stopping to grab his pants from the place they had been strewn on the floor the night before. Reaching the living room, he first saw Ian. Unshaven as of yet and in old tee and jeans, the somewhat scruffy looking man sat on the couch sipping coffee, bent over his research as always. He looked up to see Rafe, shirtless and wide-eyed. Immediately he knew something was wrong.
"What happened to her?" he asked.
"She's worse," Rafe said hurriedly. "Oh, God she's so much worse. She won't wake up. You have to help her!"
Quickly, Ian grabbed his medical bag from a coffee table in the corner of the room and headed for Alison's room. When he got their, he wasn't all that surprised by what he saw. 'I knew this would happen,' he thought as he checked her pulse. 'She's slipping away.'
Rafe hovered in the doorway, so as not to disturb Ian. A minute later he was joined by Lucy, who had finally managed to get Sigman into his travel cage. Like her cousin, she was shocked by Alison's condition.
"Rafe," she said in a hushed tone, "What happened to her? Rafe?"
It took Rafe a minute to acknowledge Lucy. When he did, she almost wished he hadn't. His jaw was set in his normal determined fashion, showing how hard he was trying to be strong, but he seemed to lack the forcefulness and liveliness that was associated with him. His youthful face seemed almost old it was so worn out, almost as if there was nothing left to keep him going. And his eyes.. Lucy had never seen him look like that in all the time she'd known him. They were sad, grieving, almost..dead. Unshed tears made them glisten. It was then that Lucy realized that she had never seen her cousin cry.
"Oh Rafe," she said, even more quietly that the first time. "There- there's no cure, is there?"
"Not unless you count being a vampire a cure," he replied his tone eerily void of emotion. He couldn't concentrate on that; he had to focus on what was happening now.
Lucy gasped, horror-stricken. In the bedroom, Ian stopped his work for a moment; his heightened senses allowed him to hear the cousins' quite exchange.
"What do you mean, 'being a vampire'?" he asked, trying to continue his work.
"You know exactly what I mean," Rafe replied, anger starting to seep into his voice. "The "cure" is for her to become a vampire. If she doesn't, she'll die. Now are you going to help her or not?!"
Lucy and Ian knew better than to continue the conversation. Ian worked wordlessly on Alison while the other two watched. Ten minutes later he approached them.
"She's gotten a lot worse," he said needlessly. "Her temperature's practically off the charts, there seems to be fluid building up in her lungs, and she's very dehydrated. We have to get her to the hospital right now if we want her to live."
A slight rustling could be heard inside the bedroom, accompanied by a weak voice.
"No."
In the blink of an eye Rafe had pushed past Ian and was at Alison's bedside.
"What is it angel?" he asked, trying desperately to keep his voice from breaking. "What's wrong?"
She took a few rasping breaths, trying to remain conscious. "No hospital," she said, barely audibly, before loosing her battle with sleep.
"Alison?" he asked, panic surfacing within him. "Alison?" It was no use. She had fallen deep into unconsciousness.
"DAMMIT!" he yelled as he picked up a glass and threw it against the wall, where it shattered into hundreds of pieces. He didn't care how much noise he made; part of him actually hoped that it would wake Alison up. But he had no such luck. Though she stirred, she remained in her feverish sleep.
"Well, you heard her," Rafe said to Lucy and Ian, who were staring at her open mouthed. "She's not going to the hospital."
"Rafe, this isn't an option," Ian replied. "If she doesn't go-"
"Yeah, I know!" Rafe said, interrupting his friend forcefully. "If she doesn't go she'll die. But you know what? Nothing you can do there will help her! Unless she's turned she'll die! Why make her suffer there?"
"Rafe, at least this will by her some time," Lucy said, still not fully believing that this was happening. "We can't just give up on her."
"I'm not giving up on her!" he shouted. "I just don't want her to have to stay there! You know how much she hates it. We can do whatever we need to here. Ian, I know you can get the supplies. You've done it before."
"Yes, but-"
"No buts! That's what she meant wen she said 'no hospital'. She would much rather stay here where she's comfortable. We could still give her all the care she needs. Please, Ian, it's what she wants. I know it."
Ian remained silent for a few minutes, studying his friend intently. 'No,' he thought. 'She has to get to the hospital. I can't just let her lay here and die.' Then he felt a touch on his hand, and looked down to see Lucy staring at him with those big brown eyes. God, he loved her. He couldn't even imagine what he would do if this were happening to her. He knew all to well what she would do; she would insist on remaining at home, where she could be comfortable and surrounded by family. Would he have had the will to refuse her what could be her last wishes? Could he do that to Alison?
"Fine," he said finally. "I'll go to the hospital and see what I can get. But Rafe, if anything goes wrong, I'll have to take her there."
Rafe nodded, then immediately turned his attention to his fallen angel.
~*~*~*~*~
The days went by and Alison continued to get sicker and sicker. She survived by the machines that Ian had brought to the house. She was usually asleep, and when she was awake she was almost always delirious. Ian kept a close eye on her, refusing to let the disease conquer her. Lucy, not knowing what else to do, gave Ian and her cousin moral support, as well as talking to an unconscious Alison about all the "girl stuff" they would do when she was better. And Rafe was attempting the impossible; he was trying to find an alternate cure for Alison. He read and re-read the book, which he had brought back from Transylvannia, hoping against hope that he could find some sort of clue as to how to make Alison better. He had Ian abandon his research and instead devote his time to finding a cure. He searched the town for Caleb, hoping that he may know a way to save her, but he was mysteriously absent. The rest of the time he remained vigil at Alison's bedside, praying for one of the rare moments that his angel rejoined his world.
He was doing just that when it happened. He was sitting at her bedside, talking to her as if she could hear.
"Angel, it's me, Rafe," he said as he picked up her limp hand from the bed. "I've been looking everywhere for a way to make you better. And I will, okay." At this point his eyes began to mist over, but he refused to let the tears fall, "I'm not giving up on you. I'll never give up on you. Never. But you have to do the same." He could no longer control his tears, as they began flowing freely. "You need to hold in there. You're strong, the strongest woman I've ever known. And you've never given up on something you wanted. I'm living proof," he choked out, managing a half- hearted smile. "When Livvie had me brainwashed into marrying her, you never gave up on me. Even when I told you it was over, you never believed me. And you won, Alison. You got what you wanted. So now you have to do that again, okay? Please, Angel, hand in there for me."
Slowly, Alison began to stir.
"Alison?" Rafe said softly, trying hard not to get his hopes up.
"Rafe," Alison croaked out, her throat parched. Though she spoke to him, she was not with him. She was lost somewhere in her mind. "What do you think of this wedding dress?"
Rafe let out a sigh. Nope. She still hadn't come back. Seeing her like this was almost as bas as seeing her lying unconscious, hooked up to God knows how many machines just to take her next breath. Desperate to keep her from returning to that state, he humored her, pretending they were in some fancy boutique, looking for her wedding dress.
"You look beautiful," he said softly. "You always do."
Alison made a noise that would have a one time been a giggle. "I like that one better," she said, and made a feeble attempt to point at a dress only she could see. "The strapless one, with the beads."
That sounded so familiar to Rafe. But he couldn't concentrate on that right now.
"You know what, it doesn't matter what you where. All that matters is that you're going to be my wife. Forever and ever."
A small smile graced Alison's pasty face. "Forever and ever," she muttered before being called away into unconsciousness.
Rafe gave a small smile. She had heard him. She knew she loved him. That gave him an iota of hope, and he needed all the hope he could get. Maybe, just maybe, he could get her through this.
No sooner has this thought crossed his mind that he got a painful reminder of just how deadly this disease was. Alison suddenly became rigid, her entire body stiff as a board. Just as suddenly she began to convulse violently: her body formed a painful-looking arch over and over, while her limbs began flailing randomly.
The disease had progressed to its next stage; Alison was having a seizure.
"Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! Chirp! Chirp!"
The incessant cries of the birds outside roused Rafe from his slumber. 'Damn birds!' he thought groggily. 'Can't they be quiet for just ONE morning?'
He couldn't believe how tired he was. Although he really shouldn't have been surprised, seeing as the last time he had gotten any sleep was the night he had told Alison she had the disease. Now he was feeling the effects. Every muscle in his body protested against waking up, adamantly refusing to move. He didn't argue with them; sleep was a welcome change from the trauma they had gone through the last few days. He wanted to be free from all thought all knowledge of the terror around him. He wanted to discontinue his fight with evil for just a few more hours, lost in the haziness of his dreams. He wanted to retreat under the warm covers, curled up in Alison's arms.
Oh Alison..He had been having the most wonderful dream about her. They had finally gotten married. The ceremony was in a small but beautiful chapel, where multi-colored light from the stained glass windows sprinkled across the bouquets of pink roses arranged everywhere. A large cross, plain in comparison to the rest of the church but spectacular in its own right, was mounted beside Rafe at the altar. Their friends and family filled the dark wooded benches in which intricate designs were carved into. But Rafe didn't see any of them. All he saw was Alison standing at the back of the church. Her flowing, strapless white gown sparkled as light hit the beads embroidered into it, and her loosely curled hair fell over her shoulders. She held yet another bouquet of pink roses in her hands, with a matching one placed in her blonde tresses. And as she began to walk down the aisle to him, Rafe could almost see a halo and wings on his angel.
"Tweet! Tweet!"
It was useless. He wasn't going to get anymore sleep. His dream was over.
'No,' he thought, more alert now. 'We'll have that. Somehow.'
Slowly, the rest of Rafe's body followed his mind in awakening. His senses began to once again come to life; he could smell Ian's coffee brewing coffee in the kitchen, hear Lucy trying to coax Sigman out of his cage for a vet appointment, and could a warm body in his arms.
Suddenly, Rafe jumped out of bed, the look of shear panic in his hazel eyes as vivid as the brightly printed bed sheet that Lucy had decorated the bed with.
'Alison,' he thought, franticly, as he turned his fiancée on to her back. 'She's so hot!'
Rafe's heart fell as he looked into the face of his angel. It was obvious that she had gotten much worse during the night. She was running a high temperature, her pale face was flushed, and the rattling sound heard when she breathed reminded Rafe of a dying car engine. Blood was coming from her lips, which had dried out and cracked. Upon touching her skin, he found it rather papery; when he gently pinched it, it stayed slightly risen instead of returning to its normal position. She was extremely dehydrated.
"Alison," Rafe said aloud, gently shaking her. "Alison, come on, its time to wake up."
She didn't even stir.
Rafe bolted out of the room as fast as he had the bead, only stopping to grab his pants from the place they had been strewn on the floor the night before. Reaching the living room, he first saw Ian. Unshaven as of yet and in old tee and jeans, the somewhat scruffy looking man sat on the couch sipping coffee, bent over his research as always. He looked up to see Rafe, shirtless and wide-eyed. Immediately he knew something was wrong.
"What happened to her?" he asked.
"She's worse," Rafe said hurriedly. "Oh, God she's so much worse. She won't wake up. You have to help her!"
Quickly, Ian grabbed his medical bag from a coffee table in the corner of the room and headed for Alison's room. When he got their, he wasn't all that surprised by what he saw. 'I knew this would happen,' he thought as he checked her pulse. 'She's slipping away.'
Rafe hovered in the doorway, so as not to disturb Ian. A minute later he was joined by Lucy, who had finally managed to get Sigman into his travel cage. Like her cousin, she was shocked by Alison's condition.
"Rafe," she said in a hushed tone, "What happened to her? Rafe?"
It took Rafe a minute to acknowledge Lucy. When he did, she almost wished he hadn't. His jaw was set in his normal determined fashion, showing how hard he was trying to be strong, but he seemed to lack the forcefulness and liveliness that was associated with him. His youthful face seemed almost old it was so worn out, almost as if there was nothing left to keep him going. And his eyes.. Lucy had never seen him look like that in all the time she'd known him. They were sad, grieving, almost..dead. Unshed tears made them glisten. It was then that Lucy realized that she had never seen her cousin cry.
"Oh Rafe," she said, even more quietly that the first time. "There- there's no cure, is there?"
"Not unless you count being a vampire a cure," he replied his tone eerily void of emotion. He couldn't concentrate on that; he had to focus on what was happening now.
Lucy gasped, horror-stricken. In the bedroom, Ian stopped his work for a moment; his heightened senses allowed him to hear the cousins' quite exchange.
"What do you mean, 'being a vampire'?" he asked, trying to continue his work.
"You know exactly what I mean," Rafe replied, anger starting to seep into his voice. "The "cure" is for her to become a vampire. If she doesn't, she'll die. Now are you going to help her or not?!"
Lucy and Ian knew better than to continue the conversation. Ian worked wordlessly on Alison while the other two watched. Ten minutes later he approached them.
"She's gotten a lot worse," he said needlessly. "Her temperature's practically off the charts, there seems to be fluid building up in her lungs, and she's very dehydrated. We have to get her to the hospital right now if we want her to live."
A slight rustling could be heard inside the bedroom, accompanied by a weak voice.
"No."
In the blink of an eye Rafe had pushed past Ian and was at Alison's bedside.
"What is it angel?" he asked, trying desperately to keep his voice from breaking. "What's wrong?"
She took a few rasping breaths, trying to remain conscious. "No hospital," she said, barely audibly, before loosing her battle with sleep.
"Alison?" he asked, panic surfacing within him. "Alison?" It was no use. She had fallen deep into unconsciousness.
"DAMMIT!" he yelled as he picked up a glass and threw it against the wall, where it shattered into hundreds of pieces. He didn't care how much noise he made; part of him actually hoped that it would wake Alison up. But he had no such luck. Though she stirred, she remained in her feverish sleep.
"Well, you heard her," Rafe said to Lucy and Ian, who were staring at her open mouthed. "She's not going to the hospital."
"Rafe, this isn't an option," Ian replied. "If she doesn't go-"
"Yeah, I know!" Rafe said, interrupting his friend forcefully. "If she doesn't go she'll die. But you know what? Nothing you can do there will help her! Unless she's turned she'll die! Why make her suffer there?"
"Rafe, at least this will by her some time," Lucy said, still not fully believing that this was happening. "We can't just give up on her."
"I'm not giving up on her!" he shouted. "I just don't want her to have to stay there! You know how much she hates it. We can do whatever we need to here. Ian, I know you can get the supplies. You've done it before."
"Yes, but-"
"No buts! That's what she meant wen she said 'no hospital'. She would much rather stay here where she's comfortable. We could still give her all the care she needs. Please, Ian, it's what she wants. I know it."
Ian remained silent for a few minutes, studying his friend intently. 'No,' he thought. 'She has to get to the hospital. I can't just let her lay here and die.' Then he felt a touch on his hand, and looked down to see Lucy staring at him with those big brown eyes. God, he loved her. He couldn't even imagine what he would do if this were happening to her. He knew all to well what she would do; she would insist on remaining at home, where she could be comfortable and surrounded by family. Would he have had the will to refuse her what could be her last wishes? Could he do that to Alison?
"Fine," he said finally. "I'll go to the hospital and see what I can get. But Rafe, if anything goes wrong, I'll have to take her there."
Rafe nodded, then immediately turned his attention to his fallen angel.
~*~*~*~*~
The days went by and Alison continued to get sicker and sicker. She survived by the machines that Ian had brought to the house. She was usually asleep, and when she was awake she was almost always delirious. Ian kept a close eye on her, refusing to let the disease conquer her. Lucy, not knowing what else to do, gave Ian and her cousin moral support, as well as talking to an unconscious Alison about all the "girl stuff" they would do when she was better. And Rafe was attempting the impossible; he was trying to find an alternate cure for Alison. He read and re-read the book, which he had brought back from Transylvannia, hoping against hope that he could find some sort of clue as to how to make Alison better. He had Ian abandon his research and instead devote his time to finding a cure. He searched the town for Caleb, hoping that he may know a way to save her, but he was mysteriously absent. The rest of the time he remained vigil at Alison's bedside, praying for one of the rare moments that his angel rejoined his world.
He was doing just that when it happened. He was sitting at her bedside, talking to her as if she could hear.
"Angel, it's me, Rafe," he said as he picked up her limp hand from the bed. "I've been looking everywhere for a way to make you better. And I will, okay." At this point his eyes began to mist over, but he refused to let the tears fall, "I'm not giving up on you. I'll never give up on you. Never. But you have to do the same." He could no longer control his tears, as they began flowing freely. "You need to hold in there. You're strong, the strongest woman I've ever known. And you've never given up on something you wanted. I'm living proof," he choked out, managing a half- hearted smile. "When Livvie had me brainwashed into marrying her, you never gave up on me. Even when I told you it was over, you never believed me. And you won, Alison. You got what you wanted. So now you have to do that again, okay? Please, Angel, hand in there for me."
Slowly, Alison began to stir.
"Alison?" Rafe said softly, trying hard not to get his hopes up.
"Rafe," Alison croaked out, her throat parched. Though she spoke to him, she was not with him. She was lost somewhere in her mind. "What do you think of this wedding dress?"
Rafe let out a sigh. Nope. She still hadn't come back. Seeing her like this was almost as bas as seeing her lying unconscious, hooked up to God knows how many machines just to take her next breath. Desperate to keep her from returning to that state, he humored her, pretending they were in some fancy boutique, looking for her wedding dress.
"You look beautiful," he said softly. "You always do."
Alison made a noise that would have a one time been a giggle. "I like that one better," she said, and made a feeble attempt to point at a dress only she could see. "The strapless one, with the beads."
That sounded so familiar to Rafe. But he couldn't concentrate on that right now.
"You know what, it doesn't matter what you where. All that matters is that you're going to be my wife. Forever and ever."
A small smile graced Alison's pasty face. "Forever and ever," she muttered before being called away into unconsciousness.
Rafe gave a small smile. She had heard him. She knew she loved him. That gave him an iota of hope, and he needed all the hope he could get. Maybe, just maybe, he could get her through this.
No sooner has this thought crossed his mind that he got a painful reminder of just how deadly this disease was. Alison suddenly became rigid, her entire body stiff as a board. Just as suddenly she began to convulse violently: her body formed a painful-looking arch over and over, while her limbs began flailing randomly.
The disease had progressed to its next stage; Alison was having a seizure.