Happily Never After: 9

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I blinked slowly. My head felt like it was on fire. I could hear the gentle lapping of the water all around me. A few birds circled through the air and flew away. I chanced sitting up. The world swam around in circles, and settled.

I sighed. Remembered. Panicked. "Marcus?" Looking around, I saw nothing. No Marcus. No Ezekiel. No Captain Brown. No…anything.

I was sitting in a small wooden boat. I wondered vaguely how I had gotten here.

"I'd slipped and fallen…" I must be having a dream. I'll wake up and be back in my cabin, and everyone will be there. That must…be it…I laid on my back and closed my eyes, willing the ship to come back.

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"Whoa…lookit!"

"Oh, my God!"

"Stay calm, please. We have this under control."

"Tommy, stay away from them. Go back to the car."

"Everyone please back away."

"He's burning up."

"I don't think we've got enough time…"

"Then hurry, godamnit!"

Blurred images swam behind my eyelids. I felt horrible, but I wondered why everyone sounded so scared. I'd always been able to pull through illnesses before.

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"He should be fine, now. All he needs is rest. He was soaked to the bone. It's a wonder he didn't catch pneumonia."

"I do wonder, though…what was he thinking?" I knew that voice. Out of all the worried voices that entered into my shallow consciousness, that one rang clear.

I was only trying to help him…that's what I was thinking. That giant…thing had obviously destroyed the ship. I wonder why they had put only me in the raft.

"His costume was taken from a Renaissance festival down in Cleveland. His wallet was with him. His license says he's a Brit named Ronald Weasley, twenty-two. The tracking bracelet short-circuited when it hit the water. Oh, and he has fits if exposed to potatoes."

I couldn't open my eyes. They didn't seem to want to move. Something was beeping quietly next to my head.

"Potatoes? Hm. Ronald Weasley…" The man seemed to be remembering something, but cut it short. "So he's from…"

"Yes."

"Ah. Well, that explains it." Although sarcastic, the voice was still soft and gentle. The voice I knew and loved.

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Good glory, those lights were bright. It was the first time I had the strength to open them since yesterday. Maybe it was only earlier that day. I had lost all sense of time. A sweet-faced lady smiled at me.

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley." I blinked at her. Looked to the other side of me.

"My name is Roland." She stopped with a confused look on her face, stared at her clipboard. Sudden realisation made her smile again.

"Of course," she chirped. "What on earth was I thinking? Are you hungry?" My stomach answered for me, and she nodded. "I'll go get your breakfast."

She left. I took a deep breath. The air smelled clean, but with a hint of some substance. And from the other room, I could smell the same brown drink that Ezekiel had. The room was white, with gleaming instruments all around. I was strapped to a device by my right arm.

The lady came back in with a tray on a rolling table and rolled it next to the bed. The way she was smiling made me feel slightly better. I couldn't help but wonder where I was.

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There came a knock on the door and the man in the white coat stepped in. He smiled. "How are we feeling?" I smiled back.

"Better," I croaked. "Where am I?" He raised his eyebrows at me.

"You're in a hospital in Morehead City. North Carolina. The States." More head? The States. I must be in a new country. That's where we had been headed.

"What about the ship…?"

"Ship?" he asked politely; he shrugged. "You were found washed up on shore. There weren't any ships to speak of." My shoulders sagged. Sparkles of red flirted in and out of the corners of my vision. The man took my hand and stared concernedly. "Roland? Roland, are you alright?" I could hear his voice fading away, and blackness overtaking my consciousness.

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"Roland…Roland…" I smiled weakly, eyes closed. I hadn't felt this weak since I had caught a severe cold during my seventh winter. "Roland…" A hand felt my forehead, and a damp linen cooled my face.

"He's burning," said another soft voice.

"I know," the other whispered. "I'm not sure there's anything more we can do. Do they have the blood samples back yet?"

"No. I called over this morning. They keep saying, there's something wrong, there's something wrong, but that they don't know what it is."

I was so cold and was trembling so violently. "Marcus…" There was nothing more I wanted than for this nightmare to go away. I wanted Marcus.

"…his temperature's skyrocketing. What's going on?" She sounded scared.

"I don't know." A hand held mine comfortingly. "We're just going to have to wait and keep him warm." I heard clicking footsteps going away hurriedly, and there came a whisper in my ear, "Hold on, Roland."

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End Chapter 9

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Story's not over til you see 'fin'. So, review and keep reading?