Desperate Measures

The infirmary. That - that had to be the most logical place to go to after - after what he'd done. Stopping dead in his tracks, Julian shuddered slightly as another wave of nausea overtook him. Rubbing at the caking blood on his uniform, he forced himself to keep moving.

She - what she'd said before she left - he - what he'd said - he hadn't meant it, not really. He'd been angry and pissed off and went after the first person he could blame. And if that person happened to be his own friend.....well, that obviously hadn't stopped him.

Coughing, he rounded the bend to the infirmary. Cautiously stepping inside, he sighed in relief as his eyes fell on a familiar blonde head. Not moving from the doorway even though he felt like he was going to fall over, he waved slightly, his other hand rubbing his forehead as his head thudded, "Erm, h - hey Nine."

Ninette's dead-end gaze swept the infirmary as she walked in, refusing to make any sound that awknowledged any pain she was feeling, even though her torn flesh was stinging with every step.

Sighing seeing that the healer wasn't there yet she sat on one of the beds, her fingers playing with the tear in her sleave, wondering if she'd be able to salvage the shirt or if it was a lost cause.

Ninette's back, torn shirt and all, was to the door, but she had heard the footsteps anyways. She had known who it would be before she even heard the voice.

"Rousseau," she greeted flattly, not even turning her head to look at him.

Swallowing hard as he looked at her back, he gripped the door-frame a little harder, digging his fingernails into it. How was it possible that it looked worse than it had a few minutes ago? Forcing himself to take deeper breaths, he took a few tentative steps towards the bed.

Sitting down on the bed across from her, he fiddled with the ripped collar of his shirt before looking up to meet her eyes. "I am so sorry." he whispered, "I was pissed and angry and what I did," he gestured vaguely towards her back, "I panicked, alright? I just - freaked out. And what I said - all of it - I didn't mean." Laughing nervously, he ran a hand through his hair, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged. "If you never want to see me again, I - I wouldn't blame you for it."

She stared at the boy blankly for a long moment. Her gaze not exactly icy anymore, but frozen. Looking but not seeing, hearing but not really listening.

"You weren't wrong," she said dully, her usual fire having been broken. "I... alone is better for me, for everyone. It just... is. I don't know how to.. If I'm alone then no one can.."

She swallowed and shook her head. She could feel the lump growing in her throat but she wasn't going to do it. She wasn't going to cry in front of Rousseau of all people.

"Want to hear a story?"

Staring at the blonde in front of him, Julian momentarily closed his eyes, not believing what he was hearing. Shaking his head, he reopened his blue eyes, leaning towards her. "Ninette," he muttered softly, momentarily speechless. What did you say to someone - so - so - broken. "Trust me, I know when I'm wrong. And what I said -" shaking his head again, he crossed his arms, "I won't let you end up alone Ninette. You're stuck with me." Smiling slightly at her, he rubbed his temples as his head continued to thud.

"A story?" tilting his head at her, he watched her curiously for a moment before shrugging, "Sure."

Ninette snorted, and gave him a wan smile, "Its a nice though Rousseau... I suppose; though who'd want to be stuck with you. However... People shouldn't make promises they can't control."

After all, hadn't Simon told her the same thing? And look where he was, she was, they were now.

Pulling her feet up to her chest, wincins slightly as the movement cause pain, but it was nothng more than what she was use to carrying around all day.

"Well," she started slowly, her tone frightentingly light and cheery - unnaturally so, "there once was this little girl, cute and carefree who dreamed of futures, and romances, and rainbows and happiness. This little girl had a best friend - the boy who lived down the street. He had been from a far away place, and spoke french funny, but she loved him anyways. THat was the truth. She loved him. Maybe not as a husband loved a wife, but she sometimes always thought one day she would."

Shrugging, Julian visibly relaxed, returning her smile. "Oh, I don't know," he winked, "I bet there are some people out there who'd like to be stuck with me forever." Tilting his head, he frowned slightly, trying to come up with someone who would want to be stuck with him forever. There were four, maybe five people he could come up with. Momentarily wondering if that number was low, he shrugged it off. "What about this? You'll be stuck with me until one of us dies."

Listening to her story quietly, Julian clasped his hands together and tilted his head, for the world resembling a younger and more carefree version of himself. As she finished, and he had this feeling that she'd continue, he asked, "By a crazy chance, did said little girl have blonde hair, green eyes and a mother who taught in a magical school?"

"You keep telling yourself that Rousseau," she attempted to joke, but her usual sass wasn't quite in it.

"That's all you can ever promise isn't it; until. someone. dies."

She sighed and looked at him again, a said smile spreading across her face as he got the description of the girl - of herself - down perfectly, "Have you heard this one?"

"Where was I then?" Running a hand through her hair, she glanced at Juli, knowing that her green eyes were glissening, unable to hide them anymore. "Right, the childhood friend."

"However that little girl had to learn that... that forever is just a word, and people - even those we trust the most to always be around - don't. Be around." She swallowed, looking at a spot off in the distance, hesitating a long moment before continuing. "When she was eight, her friend d-died. And she... she... didn't ever want to be hurt like that... lose someone... again."

She turned back to the boy, giving a watery grimace, a single tear out her eyes and dripping down her face before she could stop it.

"She learned that there was no point to caring when its all going to go away."

"Oh, I will." Julian laughed, smiling at her in an attempt to get her to smile back at him again as he stretched his arms.

Fiddling with the ripped collar of his shirt, he nodded solemnly, gaze fareaway, "Yep, or until you suddenly decide that you hate what they've become or what they are and never have a real conversation with them again." Swinging his legs, he frowned slightly at his vague mention of his elder siblings.

Shaking his head, he dropped his voice to a whisper, "Nope. I didn't know the story existed until a few minutes ago." He wasn't surprised that she'd never told him; the roller coaster their friendship was didn't leave much room for moments like this.

Watching Ninette finish her story, he tilted his head slightly at her. Was - was Ninette Michelle Fontaine actually crying? Yes, he confirmed as he listened solemnly, she was. Was everyone just going to burst into tears around him? Well, with Harmonie it'd been his fault, so it was different, but there were still tears and Nine kept crying then he'd start crying...

Allowing her to finish her story before he did anything, Julian swallowed hard before pulling himself off the bed he sat on with a creak. Biting his lip, he sat down beside her. Taking a steady breath and hoping she wouldn't kill him for this, he gingerly put his arms around her, being careful not to press too hard on her back.

"I'm sorry," he muttered softly, "It won't change anything, but - but I'm sorry Nine. For - for what happened with your friend."

"No one did," she spoke softly. "No one else does... except for Mama, and Grandmama... and..."

She trailed off as Marcus's face, so familiar, and yet as time wore on she started seeing more and more differences, faced into her minds eye. She shook that away, and swallowed.

Ninette straightened for a moment, surprised by the action. She and Rousseau didn't exactly have this kind of friendship - they had been almost killing eachother mere minutes before - but she couldn't deny it felt nice, to be comforted.

Leaning into the embrace she use the heal of her hand to wipe away any more tears that had tried to escape.

"If you tell anyone about this Rousseau," she sais softly, but still with enough of her usual bravo to intimidate, "I won't hesitate to kill you."

"That makes sense," Julian nodded, "I mean, there are things I've never told you guys...." trailing off, he shook his head, which only served to increase the thudding. Groaning softly, he rubbed at his temples for a moment.

There were just some things that he'd never gotten around to telling them. Like - like how he still hadn't told Ninette or Mélodie about Karma. Well, he hadn't told Ninette because they'd barely been talking ever since he found about being marked, and well - in all honesty, he barely saw Lodie.

Hugging her, he hummed softly to her, unable to stop but smile at her comment. She was still the same old Nine, tears or not. "Yeah, I know." Pausing for a moment, he closed his eyes for a minute, wondering whether or not to tell her. "Wanna hear a story?" he asked softly, tilting his head at her.

Ninette swallowed and smiled just a bit as he humed. His tune picking things up into her head she could barely stop herself before the words began to flow very softly out of her.

"Lean on me, when you're not strong," she sung softly, unaware that this was another thing she'd hidden from Julian, from everyone.

She nodded her head slowly.

"Yes, please. I want a story."

Tilting his head at her, he stared at her for a moment as she began to sing. He hadn't even known she could sing. Well, he knew she could, but not well. Not this well.

Recognizing the song, he continued, grinning at her, "And I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on."

Pulling away from her, he swung his legs up to sit cross-legged, staring down at his lap instead of up at her, "Well, once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a teenager. Not much younger than us. And one day, he decided to go to a party. And at this party, he met a girl. She seemed nice enough, but a little strange." shrugging, he glanced up at her, "But this girl was a vampire. A crazy vampire who went around making people hers."

Sighing softly, he crossed his arms, "And this teenager, this poor unsuspecting victim was bitten by the crazy vampire girl and Marked. And given a hooker for Christmas." Shaking his head, he sighed again, looking off into the distance, "That poor, poor guy."

Frowning, he tilted his head, "That doesn't sound nearly as sad as it should."

Ninette raised her eyebrow as he sung with her, "For, it won't be long, till I'm gunna need. Somebody to lean on. "

She let the last note hang there for a moment before adding.

"If you tell anyone else about this too, you're also dead."

Ninette gave him a steady gaze as he moved away and started his tale. Her face remained impassive as she listened to his tale, all the while thinking he was getting more and more stupid.

But of course, she said none of that.

"A Vampire wasted their time on you?" was what finally came out of her mouth when he was finally done.

Sighing softly, he shook his head, "Why would I go around telling people you can sing? C'mon Nine," he smiled at her, "I have better things to do. But yes, I won't tell anyone."

As Julian finished his story, he frowned slightly at her, but shook his head to clear it before saying, "Yes, it appears she did." Lying down on the bed, he glanced up at Ninette, hands behind his head, "I don't even know what she wants with me. And I asked her to unmark me the last time I saw her, but she won't do it because I'm apparently 'entertaining.'" Scowling, he moved his gaze to the ceiling, "It's just creepy. She can summon me from anywhere, and apparently knows where I live because she just randomly showed up in my room one day. It's just weird."

"Good." She grinned a little to herself. Slowly feeling slightly better with every word. She soon would be back to her good old self in no time.

Of course Julian's 'story' could be either helping or hindering that process.

She snorted and shook her head, "Lord Rousseau, only you could get yourself into these situations. You could find the only girl in the world who finds you entertaining."

Raising an eyebrow, he glanced back at her, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile, "I seem to have a very bad habit of getting into situations like this. But hey," he shrugged, pulling himself up, "you can't live life without getting into trouble every now and again. There'd be no fun."

Suddenly serious, Julian frowned at her, though he was unable to keep his eyes from sparkling, "You don't find me entertaining? Why do you keep me around then?"

Ninette tilted her head, smirking at it, "Well then its a life not worth living at all, now is it. We're two of a kind you know that Rousseau - I'll never admit it again but..." she looked him over slowly before smirking, "you're more like me than you may want to say at times. Other people... don't understand."

"I keep you around cause I'm too lazy to find anyone to replace you," she smirked at the boy.

"Exactly," Julian smirked, nodding as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to end the headache going on behind them. Letting his hands fall to his lap, he frowned delicately at the lack of change in his head. Shrugging it off, he glanced back at Ninette, "Us alike?" He mulled over the idea for a moment.

Well, they obviously had things in common, or else their moments of friendship wouldn't work at all. But were they really that alike? Swallowing hard, he smiled weakly, "Yeah, I guess we are. We've both been hurt by people and never want to to through that again." Raising an eyebrow, he smirked slightly, "Other people aren't worthy of knowing."

Stretching, he shook his head, "Well, at least now we know you're not addicted to me." Smiling slightly, he looked at her curiously, "How was your Julian Rousseau free time anyway?"

Ninette tilted her head, frowning slightly as he rubbed his head.

"I didn't give you another conscussion did I?" she asked not exactly concerned but... not as harsh as she usually was, "Not that you didn't possibly desreve the last one."

She snorted, "Of course they don't."

"I always knew I wasn't addicted to you Rousseau," she rolled her eyes, and began to play with the tear in her shirt. "You were the one who doubted."

Flicking his gaze up to her, Julian blinked hard, rubbing his eyes again as he shook his head, "Nah, I - I'm fine. Well," he laughed humourlessly, "no I'm not. It's just a headache, I'll live." Shrugging it off, he glanced at her, "How's your back feeling?"

Smirking, he laughed softly, "It's not my fault. There are moments - rare moments, but still - where you do act like you can't live without me. I'm just seeing what's there, Nine." Shrugging, he splayed out his fingers before putting them behind his head with a grin.

"Such a shame," Ninette joked with her usually smirk, "I need to work on my throw then, if you're going to live."

She rolled her shoulders purposely making the skin tug against eachother and erupt in stings agian, "I'll live."

Her eyes sparkling mischieviously as she echoed his words.

"Keep dreaming, Rousseau," she rolled her eyes.

"You're not the only one, Nine," he smirked, "I need to work on my aim with plates." Laughing softly, he shook his head, eyes bright, "Who knows? Maybe the Ravens'll attack me in the Dining Hall again."

Nodding, he smiled, "Good. I like you best that way. Alive."

Smirking, he wagged a finger at her, his eyes now the ones sparkling mischievously, "Ah, you didn't deny it. So it must be true."

She just shook her head at the boy, rolling her eyes slgihtly.

"Really? One would think I'd be less..." she waved her hands her face still smirking though her eyes far more serious. "If I weren't.... you know, alive."

She didn't exactly mean that statement the way it had sounded, but Ninette was a firm believer of things once stated outloud could not be taken back - so why bother. You said it for a reason.

"I do believe Rousseau, that 'dream on' in and of itself implies a denial."

The healer eyes narrowed as the soft sound of voices brought him to the infirmary and he found the two there.

Years of healing at a school had taught the man one thing. He knew how to tell when the injuries were coming from a fight.

And these two....

"Are there more injuries than I can see? Or did you two at least make it obvious when you went after each other?"