A/N: I'm extremely sorry about the slow update! I've just not been at my best recently, fanfiction-wise – what with a bout of illness before the end of term that sent me into total everything-block, and just this week I got 3 new Wii games which lifted the block but unfortunately eat up allot of my time. I got the movie game! And I'm now stuck at what I like to call 'the drowny bit' – anyone who's been there will know what I mean when I say it's devilishly challenging… and extremely wet. I'm lucky to have gotten as far as I did! But I'll get my brother to help me with that bit if he's ever around. I've also had a bit of a charge crisis, but not the one I usually have – my netbook's kept shutting down on me for no reason, but I think I've deleted the programs that caused the problem so it and the resulting shock hasn't happened again.
And once again, we venture into the story… now back in alternating POV, starting with Tintin. And again, so sorry for my absence! And thanks for hanging on, I know at times I sure as hell didn't.
Chapter Four – Recovery
I was floating, which was something I could be sure of.
The world around me was dark for the time being, but something told me that if I found out why the world was this way, I could bring back the light.
Distinctly, I heard sobbing; my lover's cries masking any pain I may have had, and I dreadfully sought to comfort him though my body would no longer obey my commands.
That's it. I was in nowhere, encapsulated within my own mind. Was it always this vast?
I heard voices now, Thomson and Thompson rang out like a bell. How I longed to hold my captain, or even Snowy. Where was Snowy? This had to be a world of my own devising then, though why my mind would conjure up such foreboding surroundings in place of the familiar was beyond me.
I couldn't touch, couldn't feel, and this setting was fast becoming claustrophobic. I wanted out, but the earthly shell was too weak to follow the soul it was tethered to.
A bark in the night, or day or whatever time it was; I knew Snowy was there, but that did little to raise my spirits. He was just as confused and worried as they all were, I could tell, and I felt something. The ominous clatter of a stretcher being lifted onto a mattress on a wrought-iron bed.
My keen senses were still honed enough that I realized Haddock hadn't left my side once, probably sick himself with concern. My airways were quickly kept afloat by an alternate oxygen supply, and my body fell limp as again the darkness took over.
"We've needed to induce a sedated sleep to lessen the chance of complete paralysis, but his condition is stable." The nurse explained, smiling kindly at our group. We were obviously terrified for the boy's safety.
"Ruddock, it's been three hours… maybe you should be getting some sleep now, darling?" Bianca said, unusually quiet even for her.
I shook my head, "I was too stupid to see what was happening when he was right next to me. I ain't leaving his side for a second more."
The nurse nodded, "With how much toxicity the blood samples displayed, it's a wonder he's woken up at all. The next 72 hours are crucial to see if his health improves."
"What'll happen if it doesn't?"
"In simple terms, he'll be a vegetable."
The Haddock Curse – it was said to sneak up on all men in one way or another. To lose a ship, to lose a love; it all came down to the same thing, in the end. The last surviving Haddock was doomed to destroy the only thing he could say he loved like nothing else, and Tintin was pretty high up on that list.
I'd stop the booze, give up my worldly possessions for one second when one of us wasn't in mortal peril, fighting for our lives on some moon or in a foreign hospital.
I felt dazed under the stupor that this could be it; I'd lose my ginger wonder.
It was to everyone's surprise when Tintin finally awoke on the second day, and it was clearly a shock for him to learn that everyone had ignored their plans for him.
Castafiore had removed the necessary dates in her world tour, Calculus had sent a letter of apology to the national science institute informing them that he wouldn't be about to demonstrate his latest inventions for quite some time, and even the Thompsons (though we could be sure they would have forgotten their commitments anyway) stayed in 'close range' instead of making there way to the local Interpol headquarters' lecture on modern detective work.
The boy wouldn't be able to speak for quite some time, at least not before the hospital staff had once again taken every sample, prodded every bit of flesh and scanned his insides for good measure.
My rage was unfounded, but I couldn't stand the thought of a load of strangers [if highly trained ones] looking after Tintin's wellbeing. I supposed that if I could, I'd do it myself – I might very well have to if he didn't show some mobility.
On the third day, Tintin [by another miracle] could speak quite fluently, and we knew even the myriad languages inside his brain hadn't been lost to the drug finally leaving his system, once he was tested a little bit by the attending physician.
Snowy had gone from distressed to humbled in all of a day, and as we looked down at him sitting unbearably quiet on my lap, we both longed for him to leap up and tackle Tintin to the ground, or for a marching band to pass by the building. The silence was deafening.
A nurse came into the room; the same one that had greeted me on our arrival to the hospital, I noticed. She looked uncomfortable about something she had to say.
"I'm sorry, but we'll have to discharge you soon, so you'll have to see if the feeling comes back on its own."
Tintin nodded and smiled, ever the polite bugger, but I seethed in my chair. Tintin had come down with something on a plane flying to their shoddy country, and now they were content giving his marching orders just like that? A rational part of me realized that she and everyone else were just doing their jobs, but that part had been locked out the day Tintin ended up in one of their hospital beds.
"Barnacles, is that it?" I exclaimed, removing Snowy carefully from my lap and into the arms of his fragile master, "I've not gone a day without worrying about this kid, we're all exhausted and he's not even started walking yet!" the rational part of my mind piped up again, suggesting that once we got home we'd have to admit him straight to the local hospital for some physiotherapy. Get some damn better service, too.
I counted to ten in my head, finding allot of my anger to come from fatigue. I just needed someone to shout at, to blame for everything that had happened in the last few days. I could yell at Calculus; he'd never hear half of it.
We were all wearing down each other's patience, and the girl left, clearly knowing when she wasn't wanted and exiting with a professional air.
"Captain, that was highly impolite of yo–!" Tintin couldn't finish for my lips devouring his. I growled low in my throat, to which he started responding eagerly with a kiss of his own.
"Lad, not even being able to touch you, let alone kiss you, for days on end has driven me crazy, I'll admit, but the thought of losing you came first, and…" I leaned into the pale hand placed over my reddened cheek, and I sighed inwardly, "One of these days you're gonna give an old man a heart attack, and… I really hope that old man will be me." I smiled, for the first time in four days by my reckoning. I'll say it again; the boy brightened up any room, any predicament we face he's there with a grin to outshine them all.
Tintin nodded, "This is why we have to get my legs working." then his grin dropped, and a grimace appeared as I made our eyes meet.
"What is it, are you in any pain?"
This time he shook his head, "Will you still love me if I can't use my legs?"
I shook my head back, striking up a laugh, "If this week has taught me anything, it's that our relationship has never been about adventure, or the sexual benefits that come with it. Even if you'd came out of all this completely paralysed, I'd still love you."
Nearly unbeknownst to us, Snowy barked from his position resting on Tintin's abdomen.
"I guess someone needs a walk." I flinched at my choice of words, but they were all I could say.
I smiled reassuringly, hoping to show him I understood. He removed Snowy from my lap, set him on the floor and began to walk out with him.
"Captain – his lead!" I exclaimed, throwing back the covers, retrieving the lead and running to them.
We both stopped, looked down at the cold tile floor (or more specifically, looked at my gangly legs poking out of the patient garb) and if the shock hadn't overtaken me I would have jumped for joy. I'd just ran!
"Tintin… you're standing!"
"Yes, I appear to be." I nodded, my throat run dry as my mouth opened and closed like that of a goldfish.
"Nurse!" Haddock yelled, quietly admonishing himself for having been rude to each and every medical officer that entered the room.
The doctor that arrived on the scene looked from me, to Haddock, and back to me again, making the same fishy face that I'd portrayed moments before.
It a wonder how I made it through all those tests alive, once I realized just how many invasive and intrusive ones they kept repeating on my frazzled body and mind.
I was discharged later that day, though Haddock still grumbled about it on the way home.
"Captain, you can't possibility have averted this."
"And that makes it all the worse. I'm supposed to be your boyfriend! Fat lot of good I was."
"And you've also been a very gracious host and friend. What if it was you who'd been slipped the poison? I may have the knowledge to help you, but I'd shut down just like you did. It's a normal human reaction."
"It's bloody weak!" I barked, "And believe me, Tintin, I know weak. This coming from an alcoholic!"
"You didn't touch a drop during my incarceration?" Tintin's voice didn't hold disbelief, but his expression spelled curiosity.
"I only ever moved away from your bedside to get something to eat or use the loo. How could I get a bottle of whisky when I didn't even leave the building?"
"That makes you the strongest man I know. And I'll not hear another word about it until we're back at Marlinspike!" Tintin rarely raised his voice at me without good reason, so I knew from experience to keep quiet. The cab ride and plane journey (no more lethal accidents, thankfully) were made in silence.
A/N: You can thank OpenOffice's automatic document recovery for allot of this chapter, and my own brain for noticing all the prevailing spelling mistakes that pop up every now and again.
I'm watching Titanic right now (the new ITV television series) and this chapter keeps giving me very Titanic-y vibes. Is anyone else getting that? And I know I've left the whole poisoning thing terribly unexplained, but I have a big plan for that… probably.