A/N) Here's an early update! I won't have time for the rest of December so . . . I hope you like it, it's emotional and maybe a little longer? Enjoy!
Motivation is your superpower!
Brick glares at the blood sample in the tubes in front of him. Professor wasn't here, Butch was asleep and he's sweating horribly. Clam down – breathe, breathe – he's not dead. They've kept Mitch on continuous sedatives . . . nothing has change in his condition; not any worse, not any better, just, sort of . . . incomplete.
The red haired boy picks up the vial of Butch's before and after blood samples. From what he can see under the Professors interesting microscope, it was ancient looking, Brick's surprised it still works, Butch's blood wasn't changed . . . yet.
Butch moans in the cage behind him. Breathe – calm down – Brick turns and narrows his eyes, studying his brother. He's sweating and pale now, it's been ten hours since he was bit, Brick hadn't left the tent since.
"M'sorry." Butch grunts, words slurred with sleep, his black hair sticking to his forehead from a building fever sweat.
Brick bends down and reaches through the bars carefully, no one else was in here to watch so he lets his mask slip just a fraction, the worry he'd been hiding with anger and contempt, seeping into his face.
"Shut up, you idiot. You're fine." He mutters, voice tired and throat dry, when's the last time I ate? He can't remember. Whatever, food was unnecessary right now anyway.
He couldn't eat or sleep until he fixes this or things go the worst way they could and Butch dies.
No – no stop it. He's not going to die – you promised Boomer – it'll be fine, I will figure this out and then –
"Please – please – " Butch's crying.
Brick startles and looks at his brother, he's turned almost yellow, the scratches, despite his vain attempt at disinfecting them, are turning yellow around the wound, grey veins spreading up his arm. No – no – Brick swallows and reaches into the cage. It's hurting him.
Butch's crying gets louder.
"Make it stop – make it – "His voice cracks and Brick winces, "M'sorry guys – I didn't - Brick – " He's gasping and suddenly starts to choke.
Brick's heart jumps into his throat and he barley has time to react, his brain sputters – think – think damn it! He can't think, why can't he -
Butch's flailing, his limbs smacking loudly against the iron bars as he starts to scream. The screams rip into Bricks heart.
Stop – stop crying – stop!
"Butch! Butch, hey, hey wake up! Dammit Butch I said – "
His brother lets out a horrific screech and grabs at the bars, eyes flying open and Brick, Brick will never admit to this moment until his dying day, turns around and throws up at his own feet.
Butch's eyes are glazed, they're losing color, they're turning – yellow.
"Make it ssssstoooop – " Butch moans, arms reaching from the cage as his hiccups and sobs mix with hissing and screams. "Make it stop please! It H- hurtsss so damn much!"
Bick can't breathe, he can't make it stop, he can't do anything but watch – watch utterly useless and helpless and – and – he can't make it stop!
"Make it stop, make it stopmakeitstop!" Butch's fists turn white as he kicks and howls in pain.
Brick panics. I can't I can't I can't!
Make it stop make it stop make it stop!
"I can't!" Brick explodes, eyes red and overflowing, he gasps and grips Butch's hands over the bars and squeezes.
"I c-can't make it stop Butch – I – I'm sorry. I'm so - sorry I - can't – " He chokes, throat tight, tears – I can't I can't I can't – drip down his face. "I'm so sorry." He whispers, sobs silent and breathless as he squeezes his eyes shut and Butch's screams grow louder.
I can't.
He turns away and curls up in a defeated ball, hands over his face from mortification and sadness.
He failed, he's a failure, he was supposed to keep them together, keep them alive, he'd promised. He doesn't know why they bothered but – but they weren't supposed to go one by one, not like this, not after everything –
He'd promised.
"You won't ever leave us, will you Brick?" Boomers wide blue eyes, uncertain, unsure.
"Shut up Boomer. Where the hell am I going to go?" He'd snapped.
Butch snorts at him ,"Where ever we go after we die maybe? Just promise one thing man, don't let us go either, kay?"
I'm sorry – I'm sorry – I'm –
"Sedate him." Professors voice cuts into the boy's murky thoughts and for a desperate moment, he thinks the man means him then he realizes he's talking about Butch –no!
"Wait don't – "He turns a sopping face just in time to see them jab the needle into Butch's arm.
He watches, with horror, as his brother slowly stops screaming until all he's doing is moaning in pain and falls unconscious with a whimper in his throat.
They just – like - they – how – no – no, Butch wasn't a zombie – not yet – not yet!
He turns livid eyes towards the tall man.
"Brick, I need you to come with me, son." He reaches slowly for the boy's tense shoulder.
Brick slaps the hand away and back up. "No! You can't just – he's not a Zombie yet! You can't just do that to him!" You can't! He wants to scream, he forces his voice level and through gritted teeth, fists shaking as he scrubs at his embarrassingly wet face with his scratchy sleeve.
"Listen, he was in pain, this will help a little." Professor sounds as if he's a wild animal.
Screw this!
"He's not a Zombie!" Brick's voice cracks when he shouts and turns away throwing the tarp open and stomping out of the tent, breathe - breathe, Butch's fine. He's fine – he – I just need to find the cure before –
He stops, angry steps and backtracks in front of another tent. This was the Professors personal research spot. He knows because Blossom goes in there and Bubbles had told Boomer about some weird living worm thing.
Frogs or something.
Brick throws a carful looks behind him, if there were any answers from this man they might be in there.
With a breath, he walks into the tent, it's lit by a strange flickering light, fluorescents? – yah – Brick hasn't seen one of these before. They were subjected to oil and fire lights. How was he powering this? No time for that – focus. Brick turns to the stack of paper and crates filled with more papers. Hmm – if I were a doctor researching for a cure, where would I put my -?
His red eyes catch a thick black cover. Brick's curiosity piques and he carefully digs around the pile and pulls out a rather thick bound book. With quick hands, he undoes the binding and looks through the leaflets, some loose, most yellow, a couple of them had rips and looked like scraps of paper put together from some previous work.
Wait a second. Brick narrows his eyes when he gets to his Blood study, so the guy did have some information . . .a lot of information . . . Brick's eyes scan the contents, he doesn't understand most of it, it annoys him endlessly to not know something but then he sees words he does understand.
Could be only one component of the cure – have to find if the other two also poses the rest of the formula.
XML WASN'T SUCCESSFUL THIS TIME.
XML? What was and XML?
"What are you saying Buttercup?"
Brick freezes, eyes widening and shooting towards the opening of the tent. Blossom's voice wafts inside, she's coming this way, and he doubts she'll be happy about him being nosy in the professor's private sector.
He scans the room for a decent hiding spot – there! He dives behind a high stack of crates and boxes through a convenient hole, the girls had stopped in front of the tent opening.
"I'm telling you, don't you feel it?" Buttercup's raspy voice sounded horrible, like she hadn't drank water or slept in weeks.
"It is getting colder but it always does around winter time." Blossom agrees. What are they talking about?
"Bloss – colder means snow –snow means ice – ice means difficult runs." Buttercup spells out her issue, fear creeping into her tone
Brick's ears perk up, momentarily, forgetting XML dilemma. What's she afraid of?
"Ok?" Evidently Blossom hadn't slept either, she sounds high strung.
Buttercup sighs loudly. "We need to start making further runs, were running out of supplies. There won't be any choice soon. If we can't fill up on this last run – "She stops, Brick can see her go tense. "- We have to leave before winter sets or we'll die of starvation and cold."
"No – no, Buttercup, we've lived here for – "
"Six damn years. Wake up Blossom, we have to go . . . soon." Buttercup shakes her head and she suddenly sounds like the level headed one.
Blossom chews on her lip, pink eyes darting around frantically. "But how? With everything that's happening, Mitch and Butch and – " She stops, eyes wide.
Brick's heart drops like a stone. No – no - they wouldn't. She can't be thinking what he's afraid she's thinking. She couldn't be.
"I don't want to talk about that." Buttercup's voice cracks and she turns away, Brick can see her fists.
She's trying not to cry.
Brick takes in a shaky breath as Blossom puts a hand on her sister's shoulder. "We have to talk about it. If we have to leave, we can't guarantee they'll survive and transportation might be impossible. " She turns pale the moment those words come out of her mouth.
His head spins and he teeters on his heels, falling back in the grass. She can't be serious. Did she really think that they could – that he would let them just abandon Butch? They wanted to ditch their friend fine but if they expected them to ditch their brother like that . . . Brick grits his teeth, hands fisting in the dirt ground, they've got another thing coming.
"Fine, let's drop this for now. C'mon, I need to check on some samples for professor.
She turns away and takes Buttercup with her, unaware of the boy she's left stunned in the professor's tent.
Leave Butch behind? Like – like some – some science project?!
Brick sneers.
Over my dead body.
There you have it!
Let me know what you thought, how you felt, if this made you feel anything at all!
Happy holidays, and if you don't celebrate anything - I hope we all have a better year!
See you next year guys!