Nightwing

We were back by 6:30, and this time it was "official." The big man checked himself into the Ritz, bought me breakfast in their restaurant, and smiled and waved at the paparazzi who swarmed us before our poached eggs had even arrived.

By the time we made our respective escapes, it was nearly 8. I knew Helena would have left for work already, and I looked forward to a few hours alone with Barbara before I had to go in for second shift. Seeing the Lambo in the garage where she'd left it the night before, I felt a frown building. I left my motorcycle beside it, looking like the shabbier country cousin to its sleek curves, and went upstairs to find out what was going on.

I found Babs wheeling back and forth across the entryway, pacing the only way she could, and she turned on me as I walked in. The combined power of the Look and a distinct lack of sleep turned it into a formidable assault, and I cringed.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"Bruce and I were at breakfast, I couldn't risk-" She didn't let me finish.

"I was worried SICK! He disabled my tracking beacon again! I had NO idea where you were and Alfred said you'd left hours ago!"

"Barbara, I'm sorry. You know how he is. I didn't mean to worry you... Did something happen?" I spent a lot of time apologizing. I was getting good at it.

She shook her head, and I saw her anger slowly dissipating.

"Did you find out anything?"

I shook my head too. "The computer's processing our samples, and it'll network with yours when it's finished. He's going to stay a few days, til we get this under control." I knelt beside her, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her tightly. She hugged me back, her red hair soft against my cheek and the scent of her favorite perfume washing over me. I closed my eyes, relaxing against her, until the sound of a pained cry from Dinah's room startled us both.

I jumped up, frowning at her, and she motioned me to go check on Huntress.

She was out of bed, leaning heavily on the dresser, nearly doubled over in pain, her hair plastered to her forehead with a sheen of sweat that covered her body. She wore a tank top and those adorable pink bunny panties from last night, and her skin was white where it wasn't red or purple. I ran to her, catching her arm and helping her back into bed. She tried to shrug me off.

"I'm fine. Just sore. I need to go to work."

Her body blazed beneath my hands, warmer than I had ever felt her.

"No way, Helena. You're staying home today."

She tried to push my hand away, and I gasped, seeing her shoulder as the strap moved.

"You need a doctor. That bite from last night looks terrible."

"Get the fuck off me, Dick. I have to go. They have a test today." She was barely coherent.

"A substitute can give them their test."

I picked her up and held her in front of the mirror, yanking the strap of her tank top down so she could see the angry black and grey and purple bite, and the red streaks radiating from it. She went silent, and then gingerly touched it, jerking her hand back and hissing in pain. She nodded, defeated.

"Yeah, I need a doctor."

I made the appointment while she called into work, and I have no doubt they believed her, since even from the same room she sounded like death warmed over.

The doctor's office was full of similar cases, people holding icepacks to broken hands, dish towels to cut faces, limping badly... Helena looked bad enough though, they took us right in.

She'd gone downhill from the time I'd called to when I helped her lie down on the exam table. She felt several degrees warmer, and she wasn't even trying to speak anymore. She just buried her face against my chest, and I gently stroked her hair.

The doctor looked like he'd been having the morning from hell. It was barely noon and he already had 5 o'clock shadow lining his jaw, and tension lines at the corner of his eyes that didn't bode well.

"What seems to be the problem here?"

"Well, we were out at this bar last night and some guy, he attacked her. Like an animal. I managed to pull him off and the bouncers came to help, but he bit her..."

I showed him the bite on her shoulder, trying my best to play the concerned boyfriend as his eyes took in not only the visible infection, but the scrapes on her chin and hands, and the garlands of bruises all over her body.

"These are all from that... one... incident?" He wasn't buying it. Damn. He looked at me in silent accusation.

"Of course not. She's a competitive martial artist. There was a tournament this week. Last night was only a few of these." She started to laugh, and stopped, whimpering. I hugged her gently.

He looked like he didn't believe me as he studied her shoulder. "These stitches are professionally done. Didn't the hospital CLEAN this?"

"They didn't even take her name, man." I put an edge of desperation in my voice. "They were PACKED. They just sprayed it with disinfectant and stitched it up. No drugs or nothing." Having seen the aftermath of the current epidemic sitting in his waiting room, he believed me.

Helena stirred suddenly. "I need to go to work. I forgot to tell them where the test was, they'll be behind and-" I put a finger over her mouth.

"You're not going to work, Helena. You're sick." The doctor nodded, agreeing with me.

"You'll need at least a week off, and we'll start you on some strong antibiotics. That should clear this right up. I'll call your employer right now and get those drugs." I wrote down the school's number for him, gratefully, and he left the room.

I was thoroughly unprepared when she fixed her eyes on the empty corner of the room and started screaming.

"Helena? Helena, what is it? What do you see?"

"MANDRAGORA!" She was in a panic, struggling to get to her feet. I held her firmly, locking her arms behind her back. She connected with a kick to my sternum and my breath went out in a startled "oof" noise, but I managed to pin her with my upper body before she could hit me again.

"Helena, there's nothing there. There's nothing there. Close your eyes, it's not real." She stared at me, her dark eyes wide with terror, and they flicked back to the corner and she screamed again.

"Helena, do you trust me? CLOSE YOUR EYES. I'm here, he can't hurt you. Close your eyes, Helena." She did, shaking violently under my body. Where our skin touched, she was so hot she burned. I held her, murmuring continuously that she was safe, and I would protect her, and it wasn't real.

"I can hear him breathing..." she sobbed, hiding her face in my neck.

The doctor rushed back in. "What happened?"

"She's hallucinating. Just started."

He grabbed a thermometer and jammed it into her ear, clicking the button. It beeped at 104.2.

"Nightw-" she started to say, and I jammed my hand over her mouth.

"Helena, shhh. Shhh. Be quiet. You're safe."

The doctor looked at me suspiciously. "She needs to go to the hospital. Right away."

Oh that was going to end well. The last thing I needed was a hallucinating superhero screaming all of our names through the crowded halls.

"We have a friend who's a nurse, we can take care of her at home."

"She'll need IV antibiotics, an ice bath, painkillers, sedatives, fever reducers, can you handle all that?"

I nodded, trying to look confident. "Sure, no problem." I kept my hand firmly over her mouth until she stopped trying to speak, and then I let go.

"Helena, you want to go home, right? Not to the hospital?"

She nodded, whispering "He'll find me at the hospital, he'll find me." She opened her eyes, glazed now with fever and fear.

The doctor looked skeptical, but with her agreement, he couldn't argue. He started the IV, gave me a detailed dosing schedule, and made me promise that if her fever wasn't down in 4 hours or went up at all, I'd take her to the ER. He also insisted that she couldn't be left alone until her temperature stayed below 102 for 12 hours.

One quick trip to the pharmacy and a whole arsenal of drugs later, she was settled back in at the clock tower. I know she would have rather been home, but at least there even if I had to go out, she wouldn't be alone.

I didn't realize I'd missed work until my phone rang as we were putting Helena into her second ice bath. I cursed in languages I didn't even realize I knew, and as I answered the phone she started screaming again.

Great.

I stepped out into the hall, hoping it would muffle the sounds, but, you know what they say about Italians and their lungs.

"Sounds like you got your hands full, G. Everything okay?" Amy was, blessedly, pretty understanding.

"Yeah, one of my friends got hurt bad last night. I'm sorry, I totally forgot to call in."

She laughed it off. "No problem. Take care of it. I trust you. See you tomorrow."

"Thanks Amy, you're the best."

She hung up, and I went back into the bathroom, back into hell