Jefferson wasn't sure when everything stopped spinning, but eventually the woods around him were still. Crying out in pain, Jefferson hauled himself to his feet, grasping a nearby tree trunk for support. He took a step forward, ignoring the screams of pain from each limb as he staggered out of the woods towards the dimly lit castle, a beacon in the darkness. His mind was still reeling from the fight. All he wanted to do was rest for a moment.
"Just few more steps," he murmured, "then you can see her again."
The image of Elizabeth, with her sweet smile, was enough to push forward, enough for him to grasp the pillar by the castle door, his free hand clutching the roses. He gasped for air, trying to ignore the sharp stabbing pain in his chest. Jefferson's knees buckled as he reached for the doorbell, wincing as it rang out in the still night, clanging on and on.
'Open the door.' Jefferson willed, pressing a hand against the wooden door as he bent over and retched, pain shooting through him.
Suddenly the door swung opened and he fell forward. He lost his grip on the bunch of roses and they tumbled to the floor.
"Jefferson?" He looked up, blinking under the harsh candle light.
Jefferson could just make out the features of Elizabeth, who had managed to catch him. Her face rapidly changed from shock to anger, then to concern.
"What on earth?" Elizabeth stopped short as she looked down at his bloody state and the stone steps. Jefferson's cheeks flushed with shame at the sight of the bile by his feet. He wanted to reply, but more bile was rising in his throat so he shook his head, clinging to her bare arms as she struggled to support him.
"Victor! Victor!" Elizabeth yelled, wrapping a hand around Jefferson's back and pulling him into the nearby chair.
She retrieved the roses from the doorstep and unceremoniously dumped them on a nearby stand before turning her attention to Jefferson.
She held the candle up to his face, looking him over, her eyes widening in horror at the bruises and cuts. Her cry had faded into the darkness, and there were no sounds of movement to suggest her brother was coming to help.
"Victor Mortimer Frankenstein!" Elizabeth yelled again, her voice almost a scream, breaking a little as she called his surname. Jefferson watched through half closed eyes as she her knelt beside him, her hands cradling his bruised cheek.
"Hey, Jefferson, stay awake, please?" She begged, sounded terrified now. Elizabeth glanced back over at the roses.
"Are those flowers for me?"
Jefferson managed to nod; grimacing slightly as he swallowed the blood he could taste in his mouth and said: "I'm sorry."
He stretched out a finger and stroked her hand, exhaling deeply.
"Don't be," Elizabeth murmured, her frightened face softening, "I was the one who wanted to leave, and-"
She broke off at the sound of footsteps approaching them.
"Whatever it is better be bloody important if you're shouting my full name in the middle of the night," Jefferson heard Victor call, hurrying down the staircase towards them.
"Indeed, doctor obvious," Jefferson managed to mutter, the pain momentarily easing as Elizabeth gave a soft laugh.
"At least your wit is still intact," she whispered, wiping a finger against Jefferson's chin to remove the remnants of his bile upheaval.
"It's Jefferson," Elizabeth answered Victor, though she kept watching over Jefferson.
"He's not drunk again is he?" Victor sighed, "it wouldn't be the first time."
"No! He'll die of you don't do something!"
Jefferson could imagine Victor had rolled his eyes at that, cursing his sister for being so melodramatic. Elizabeth had grabbed her brother's arm and pulled him close enough to properly see Jefferson. Victor's mouth dropped slightly in surprise as he stared at Jefferson.
He opened his mouth to make another sarcastic quip but a wave of pain hit Jefferson. Victor's orders to Elizabeth became indistinct but he could see her she standing up.
"I'm sorry but I'm going to have to treat you in my lab." The doctor said and Jefferson let out a cry of agony as Victor lifted him.
"Elizabeth," Jefferson rasped, watching as she disappeared from sight. But no sound escaped his dry lips, "Elizabeth…"
Suddenly, everything brightened as they entered Victor's lab and Jefferson could feel the cold, metal operating table beneath him, the one he'd stared at some many times and wondered how anyone could be operated on such a thing.
'But then again, all of Victor's patients are dead' Jefferson thought, 'until me.'
"Don't worry, you won't die. You can't: not for Elizabeth's sake," Victor said, as though he had read Jefferson's thoughts.
Jefferson weakly nodded, wishing for Elizabeth to reappear. The doctor unbuttoned Jefferson's blood-stained shirt, shaking his head at the extensiveness of the wounds.
"This is all my fault," Victor muttered lowly as he dabbed disinfectant on the three cuts on Jefferson's neck.
All Jefferson could do was whimper at the stinging sensation. Elizabeth hurried into the laboratory laden with bandages and water.
"Ssh, ssh, you're going to be okay," she soothed, resting a cool hand on Jefferson's, though he could see the worried look Elizabeth cast her brother.
As Victor subjected Jefferson to more poking and prodding, the pain grew almost unbearable, and their words became distant again.
"I fear he may have at least two broken ribs...I need to operate."
He heard Victor say, though Elizabeth's reply was indistinguishable as something was clasped over his mouth and nose. A sweet smell overwhelmed him, Jefferson's vision blurring.
He longed to hear Elizabeth's calming voice once more: but he couldn't fight the unconsciousness any longer. Finally Jefferson gave in and Elizabeth, Victor and their black and white realm faded into darkness.