Part 5: The Longest Night
He's up again, an hour later, when he hears her struggling. Savannah is still tucked in beside her, and through some small miracle, has stayed sleeping. But Sarah is a mess---hair clumped in frantic, sweat-spiked strings, face streaked with blushes of fever and stress and tears. He resigns himself to a sleepless night, vacates his own bed, smoothes down the sheets and then gently extracts Savannah from Sarah's arms and settles her into the bed he has just vacated. He pulls another cold compress from the bar fridge and wraps it in a towel. Then lays down beside her and presses it onto her cheek.
She moans and twitches beside him, her skin practically steaming. He wonders if this is more of a stress reaction than an actual illness. He has seen this kind of thing before...
"Sarah," he says. He keeps his voice as soft, as gentle as he can. "Talk to me."
"Uhhhhhhhh..."
"Um hm."
"Hate this."
"I bet."
He adjusts the cold compress, and she whimpers again.
"You let him in," she says after a moment.
"Hmmm?"
"You looked at me. I shook my head. You let him in."
"Yes."
"Told you...to do it my way..."
"And I told you to trust me," he says. "If you can give me an estimate, for how long that will take..."
"Don't know," she says. "I've never...it's never been about that. With anyone."
"Not even Charley?"
"Hell no. When he...got close enough, I...sent him away..."
"And how did that work out for you?"
He adjusts the cold compress, and she winces, but more from the memory this time. "Hurt me. Killed him."
"So does that tell you something? That maybe you should try something different this time?"
"Doesn't tell me...anything yet. Too sick to think. Too sick...to talk..."
"Nice try. You're a soldier, underneath it all. You're fighting this, just like you fight everything."
"And you're a cop, underneath it all. You'd better learn to be a soldier, or..."
She moans again, then rolls over and throws up into the garbage can. Second time tonight. He was warned about this. He cleans her up, then checks the IV, changes the bag. Gives her another Tylenol.
"Cry if you want to," he says. "You look like you've earned that much."
She shakes her head, winces, collapses back onto the pillow. "Distract me," she says. "Talk to me. Anything."
"Talk to you about what?"
"Convince me how you're going to be a soldier now."
"Maybe I don't have to be a soldier. Maybe it will be useful to have a cop."
"No. Cops are just people. And people die."
"Because they don't follow orders?"
"Because they don't *get* it."
He sighs. "Are we going to spend the rest of Savannah's childhood arguing about this?"
"There won't be a childhood. For her, for anyone. Unless we stop them. Unless *I* stop them."
He sees how it is. Control, for her, is sanity. And every time he threatens that, she pushes him away...
"Unless *we* stop them," he says. "And don't do that again."
She must see in his eyes that he has figured out the game because she nods, then closes her eyes.
"I'm going to throw up again."
He braces himself. It's going to be a long night.
--
It gets worse before it gets better. Her body is sticky, the sheets slick and damp, and he goes through every towel they have trying to keep her dry and comfortable. She's hot, then she's cold, then she's freezing, but flushed with a fever so high that her skin almost sizzles when he touches it with the cold compresses. He doesn't even try to get her drinking. He knows she won't keep anything down, and he trusts that the IV is doing its job. Thank goodness for their well-stocked visitor, or they would have had to hit a hospital by now.
Before dawn, her fever breaks. He helps her to the bathroom, averts his eyes while she peels off sweaty clothes. There is a full tub, thank goodness. He gets the water going, then sits, his back up against the tub, his eyes away from her, and lets her clean herself up. She shuts off the water herself and he passes her a robe. He waits until she has it on before he turns around again to help her.
He peels back the sheets, lines the bed with their last clean towel, sets her down again. She falls at once into a deep, dreamless sleep and stays that way until their visitor arrives.
--
It's nearly lunchtime. He has had Savannah up for hours already, fed her breakfast from the remains of the provisions he had brought to the cabin. She's been quiet. Now that the novelty of his arrival has worn off, she's back to her post-traumatic silence, and while she's occupied herself with colouring books, Mr. Fur and a webkinz game on his laptop computer, she keeps stealing glances at Sarah.
He hears room service trays jangling in the corridor, and a knock on their door, just as Sarah starts to stir at last. He motions to Savannah to follow him, stay behind him under his cover, and checks the door before he opens it. Edward, their new friend. He wheels in a room service tray, then heads straight for Sarah.
"Hi, Mrs. Connor."
"Don't call me that."
"All right. Mrs. Johnson, than. How are you feeling?"
"Really, really thirsty."
He opens a bottle of juice, gives her a tiny sip, pulls the bottle away when she reaches for it. "Let's not over-do things just yet. Change out the IV, Mr. Ellison. Give her one more bag before you try her on food, okay?"
Edward sticks a thermometer in her mouth, checks the reading, pops another Tylenol under her tongue. "You'd better stay here one more night. This is worse than I thought it would be."
"And how bad was that?" she asks him.
"Better than it is."
"Yeah. You usually hope it's better."
"And you usually find that it's not?" Edward asks her. "Look, Sarah...can I call you that? That's part of the message. People matter. Didn't you tell him that, once?"
"Say what you came here to say."
The boy straightens. "He made me memorize it exactly. 'I love you. That's the most important thing. And there are things that happened which I appreciate better now that I've seen what I've seen. People matter. If you forget that, they'll win, and nothing you can do will stop them. You know what to do. You've done it already. But you need to remember that people matter. Stop Skynet. Help Ellison. Protect Savannah. But don't be afraid to live a little too, because people matter, and that's worth more than you might think from where you are. You matter too. Be strong. Be brave. I'll wait for you, wherever I am, forever.' That's the message."
She's crying, deep, wet sobs that shake her still-healing body and make the tears run again. Savannah comes over, crawls into bed beside her, lays her head on Sarah's chest and waits for her. But she looks up at Edward before he turns to go.
"Is there a message for me?" she asks him.
"There is," Edward says. He nods to Sarah. "But she's the one who it will be from."
And he's gone.
--