Fever Dream

In the dark, she tossed and turned, blankets knotted around her ankles, body - skin on fire, tiny droplets of perspiration sticking to her - shivering violently against the air. The atmosphere was heavy with illness; the room felt as hot and heavy, sweltering as if it too had contracted her fever. Yet even it was not warm enough to be hotter than herself. Juliet's body temperature was still higher than the air around her.

It was what caused the frustratingly contradictory shakes; she had never felt hotter to the touch in her life - and yet she could remember feeling colder. In her waking hours, the girl strived to appear better than she was, swallowing pepper-up potion and placing a grin on her face to fend off other's worries. She didn't want to be the centre of their attention, to be their burden.

But asleep, she murmured and whimpered, clutching at air as if it could bring her comfort. What she was clutching at, only she could know.

Only she could see.

The room, as familiar as it should be confused her; the shadows and darkness casting shapes she did not recognize. Everything had changed, and even here it would remind her so; it wasn't her home any more. It wasn't her room any more, it was something else.

"J. J. where are you?" Her brother's voice, broke through the darkness. He was close, she could feel it but something was in her way - she couldn't reach him, she couldn't get to him. "J. J.?"

One stumbling step, and her pathway was blocked, a sneering face, familiar though hauntingly unattached to any sort of body cut her off. Her sister's degrading voice floated around her.

"Where you going, freak." "You think you're so specially you know." Other voices joined into the fray again. "It could be interesting to learn from, you know." Her eldest brother. "If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have so much worry." Her father's sympathy sounded forced. "Oh darling" her mother's pity was somehow the worst of it all. It said everything the others didn't - we might want to help, but we aren't going to.

And underneath it all, her brother's voice was still going.

"J. J. why did you leave - you left us, me. You left. You left."

Her head was shaking, her whole body shaking. She felt cold, she felt sick - they were pressing down on her. It wasn't true - what he said wasn't true. She wasn't the one that left, it had been-been-

"No, I didn't! I didn't . You left- you didn't try to keep me. You let me go. You left me, long before I did."

It was the phrase that she kept repeating. "You left." "You left." Falling in on herself, the phrase seemed to come to life, the words becoming real, dancing around her in a circle, creating more and more wind until it whipped her old forgotten room, and her family away. Cowering in the centre, she forgot her refrain just wishing the wind would stop.

Ironically, she didn't notice when it did.

"Juliet, my beautiful Juliet," the voice was a crooning comfort. "What ever has put you in such despair." Strong arms picked her up. She felt safe - loved. Dimitri. He wouldn't leave her. He couldn't leave her, the ring bouncing around her neck was a promise of that. He promised not to leave. Curling into the embrace, the name was on her lips before she felt herself free falling, crashing down to the ground with a feeling of lose.

"Dimitri? Dimitri?" she crawled on the ground a picture of patheticness. Where was he? He couldn't be gone. He had promised. "You promised! You promised you wouldn't-" a chocked sob. "You promised." Promised turned into her new refrain, replacing the other one completely. There was darkness all around her, she was in the only patch of light.

Isolated.

Alone.

"Child, no apprentice of mine is going to be quibbling like a child." Mad's voice disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. No comfort, just the sinking feeling that she hadn't lived up to what she had promised - knowing that too wasn't going to wait for her.

It was Savannah's laugh next, an flash of her face as she waved passed the girl, chasing after a head that looked much like the boy - Chris. They were going somewhere she couldn't follow.

"Lonely Trip?" a cocky grin showed up on the older boy's face as he walked passed, each arm around a voluptuous woman - more his speed, his type. He wasn't going to slow down or stop for the girl who was only a blip on her radar. She was left with nothing but a stuttered plea that never quite came out.

"Don-don't lea-"

But he had already left. All of them had already left. Alone was what she was born to be. Doomed to be.

"Julie," a voice soft yet startling voice spoke up, a hand brushing her hair - there but not. "Julz, Juliet." He said nothing but her name, less than the others, less there than the others, and yet as she grabbed at Zander's ghost like feet she felt like he might be more there than the others.

"Don't go," she murmured brokenly. "Don't leave me - don't-"

The ghost simmered and disappeared into the darkness like everyone else. And she was left, huddled and alone, not entirly sure who she was pleading to.

Perhaps she was pleading to them all.

"Don't go, please don't leave me. Don't-don't-"

The sick girl let out a shuttering sob, body tense ready for a fight, unaware that the fight was internal not external. She was fighting her body and nothing else.

Grabbing at the air again, she made the plea that she was sure no one heard.

"Don't leave me alone."

He'd swear up and down he'd only left when Miss Mad deigned it too late at night for a boy to be in the house, and he'd come as soon as she'd said he could inside. He'd only left her bedside twice since then, once for the bathroom, and the next to get a wash cloth and a bowl of ice water for her forehead. She hadn't been having the nightmare she was currently trapped in when he left. As it was, his heart rate was almost as fast as a hummingbird's when he caught sight of her.

Setting the bowl on her bedside table, he dipped the cloth inside and wrung it out - careful not to spill any water - and gently pressed it to her forehead as he sat beside her on the bed. "Julie." He murmured. "Julz. Juliet." He said softly. "It's going to be oh-" The rest of his 'okay' was cut off as he found her suddenly grabbing at the fabric of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. Blinking slightly, he continued to wipe at her face with the cloth, noting how she was still obviously dreaming.

"Juliet." He said, voice still soft. "Don't worry. I'm-" He stopped speaking abruptly, even as he continued to sooth her, smoothing back her hair and humming. Her hold on him tightened, but he didn't voice any complaint. There was no physical harm she could do to him that he hadn't already endured in any case.

Her words, audible after only half murmurs, surprised him. He had to wake her up. Knowing what he did about illness, however, he was well aware it may not be all that possible. It was the sob that really got to him, that wrenched his heart forward and to her. "I-" He was suddenly catching her hands in his before she actually hit him, gently lowering her back onto her pillows and smoothing her hair back once more. "Shhh..." He soothed.

"I am- Zander is right here." He said softly, wiping her forehead again. "And I do not plan to go much of anywhere."

Fever had her in its clutches; her temperature was spiking, although it was unknown to everyone else - since the power to sense the future was a rare one and did not waste its time on trivial matter's like a girl's illness - it would shortly level out, remain at the almost worrying temperature of 39 degrees Celsius* - and finally break, begin to drop back down towards her normal cheery body temperature with rise of the morning sun.

Through that night she'd spend just as much time in a half awake state - fever creating odd delusions - as she did in a restless half sleep. But in either state, one thing remained true. Whenever the boy beside her bed attempted to leave - whether she looked aware of it or not - she'd become restless all over again. Whether it was merely the sound of the voice - any voice - the contact of his person (As the girl would claim if and when ever made aware of these actions) or there was something specific about his voice, his touch to her distressed mind it wouldn't be known. It could not be told from an outsiders perspective, and it took more reflection than Juliet cared to give at that moment - reflection that could lead to more emotions than she cared to sort out.

It was more distress - the removal of that single body - than any compassionate human being would wish to put upon a pathetic creature who was obviously suffering even with his presences.

At the current moment, the end of her dream still lingering, anguish at the thoughts her overheated mind had come up with still lingering, it was his steady repetition that created a palm for the wound that did not look like it was going to heal. It did not appear to do anything at first, her tossing settling some, but the mumbling still going. And then with one perfectly clear "Zander", a tone causing one to question whether she was awake or asleep, the girl fell perfectly still - it was an eerie stillness, filled with uncertainty, illusions to finality, even her breath paused for that fraction of a second. Then as if someone had flicked a switch, her breath came out all in one breath, a sigh of sorts, and then she was back to moving - steady breath and shuttering body.

Awake now - though barely lucid, her mind was buzzing creating a film between what the world was and what she was experiencing - she curled in on her self, bringing her knees to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible - as warm as possible.

"C-c-cold," she murmured softly, chattering teeth causing an unpleasant stutter. "I-I'm cold, Zander."

"Juliet?" He asked, eyes going to her as she went completely still. He fidgetted slightly, leaning over her to try and make sure she hadn't gone and died on him, before she was moving and breathing again, and his heart rate was attempting to return to normal.

"Julie." He answered, brushing her hair back from her face. She was clammy now, almost cold, though the fever still left its traces on her skin. Removing the cold cloth from her forehead, he stood, rearranging the blankets around her to make her as warm as possible. "Is that better? Are you warmer now?" He deliberated slightly, before moving to leave. "I can get you more blankets. I know where they are kept now, Kirrin showed me."

Her arm shot out with surprising speed as he moved to leave, protests already on her lip as she dragged him back towards her with enough force that anyone with little balance, or little will most likely would have toppled right over the edge of the bed, landing beside her.

"Don't go," she murmured, a yawn in her voice. The shivering had weakened significantly, warmth taking its time to spread to all her limbs, relax them into a state to stop the violent movement. "Stay."

Yawning again, she curled into the hand she still hadn't let go of, cuddling up to it and towards the boy it was attached to, drifting into a lighter, but more relaxed sleep, "Sorry."

He froze as her hand wrapped around his arm, eyes flashing over to her as he allowed her to pull him down beside her. Biting his lower lip, he watched her curl toward him, hesitating briefly before giving a soft sigh and relaxing. Reaching up slowly, he brushed her hair out of her face, simply looking down at her before resting his head on the mattress beside hers.

"I will stay until you wake." He promised softly before closing his eyes.

"You will be better." He whispered. "And do not get me sick."

As promised by the hands of fate, as the morning sun rose in the sky, the young girl's fever had broken, disappeared, and left her to gain another hours or so of healing sleep before the soft hum of life in the house - Kirrin sneaking into the room to play dual roll of opening the blinds to welcome the day, and spy on her health for his mistress - brought her back to conciousness. Letting out a soft breath, and stretching her limbs slightly she blinked her eyes open for a second, before deeming it much more pleasant to be asleep, and curled herself back into Zander's chest.

Zander's....

Slowly, she opened her eyes again to blink at where she was. Everything in her room looked as she remembered it - if a little neater, someone had cleaned. The only thing that was out of place was him. Looking up at his face with an odd smile, vague memories of how he'd gotten there, diluted by the fever as if they were dream not reality, she gave up attempting to figure out how he was there. She liked it. He was warm and comforting. He was familiar and safe.

He was just Zander, and that fact seemed to do more to her than all the others combined. It was all the others combined. It was probably that thought, feeling more, that drove her to do it; the action didn't come from any thought. She didn't think about it at all. As she laid there, glancing up at his apparently sleeping face it just felt like the most natural thing to do.

"Morning," she whispered as she brushed her lips gently across his.

It had been a long time since Zander had slept on a bed. So long, in fact, that he had forgotten the way it felt, warm and comfortable, secure, immovable. Expecting to get asked to leave by Miss Mad, he had tried to keep himself awake for as long as possible, but the cotton sheets pulled him under, and coupling that with Juliet's soothing presence - which would have been enough on its own - it was almost too easy to fall asleep.

The sunlight that suddenly filled the room did nothing but make him turn the slightest bit, his arm had somehow would around her waist in their sleep, and with that he pulled her closer while still remaining on his back. He was crawling toward conciousness hesitantly, not quite ready to awake, though the change in Juliet's posture and position was waking him up as well. He was acutely aware of her, her every movement, the way her breathing changed when she awoke, even though he wasn't fully awake.

Her lips against his brought him that extra step toward consciousness, leaning into her kiss before rolling on top of her and wrapping his arms around her, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. "Is it morning already?" He whined softly, hold tightening as sleep threatened to pull him back down. "Do we have to get up?"

"Hmm," she breathed softly, rolling easily with him. Giggling slightly as his breath tickled her neck, and threading her fingers through his hair as she snuggled easily beneath him. His body was doing wonders to keep the residual cold of the room at bay, "I suppose we can stay where we are."

Part of her was still wondering how the boy has managed to not get kicked out earlier - and was currently waiting for this act to happen - but she wasn't going to help speed it along any. This was the nicest wake up she'd had since she could remember.

Yawning slightly, she closed her eyes as her hands continued to lazily stroke his hair, brushing against him as she attempted to find a new comfortable position.

Giving a soft groan, he walked himself through the process of getting himself off of her- something that would take a lot more will than staying where he was would. His mind felt sluggish, and she felt warm and alive and familiar beneath him, and he didn't want to go anywhere. He was painfully aware of the mother-figure present elsewhere in the house, however. As someone who had never had parental guidance, he knew what such a thing was worth, and he was not going to sacrifice that for something as selfish as what he wanted.

The final push was her movement against him, a jolt running through his body before he rolled off her, an arm still thrown across her. "You are trying to get me in trouble." He murmured tiredly, opening an eye to gaze at her. Pulling her close, he cuddled her to his chest, taking a deep breath through his nose and basking in her scent. He gave another soft sound and sighed, curling closer.

"I do not want to get up... but I want to cook you breakfast. Are you hungry?"

A giggle worked its way up through her throat, a soft but almost giddy sound. Something she certainly hadn't made in the last day and a half or so while she was too busy being sick to focus on much else. Juliet wasn't even sure what she was laughing at, but the sound was happy, light, and she liked the way it made the feeling spread through the rest of her.

"I wasn't the one who rolled on to me," the girl stated almost cheekily as she buried her face into his chest, hair - tangled from a night of tossing and turning - covered the side of her face that would have other wise been exposed to the air. Where she was, she could feel the steady rise of his breath as it slowly pushed her forward then let her fall back down. Even fainter was the sound of his heart beat, though her ears strained to hear it, and without even realizing it, her fingers began to drum out the beat.

Reluctantly, she moved so her chin was resting on his chest instead of her cheek, and she looked up at Zander, "I'm not hu-" her protest was interrupted by the faint but unmistakeable rumble of her stomach. Sickness had caught up with her - had she even eaten anything yesterday? Grinning sheepishly, her face flushed slightly. "hungry?"

He murmured something unintelligable - and snarky too, by the sound of it - but stayed relatively silent afterword, running his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. He closed his eyes at her touch, content to just lie there for the rest of however-long-miss-mad-allowed.

He opened one eye to look at her as she moved, the little jut of her chin adorable even in its pointed position against his chest. He gave a soft laugh, smoothing her hair back from her forehead and offering a grin. "I... suppose I could get up and cook you something. If you come as well."

His snark, unintelligible as it was just produced a laugh from the girl. She was in too good a mood to be pushed off by anything, and certainly nothing Zander could ever do would put her into a bad mood. At least that was the way she felt at the moment.

Though the thought that she had to get up was getting close. Tilting her head to the side, so her cheek was resting on his chest again, but she was still looking at him, she pulled her cute little lips into a pout, eyes twinkling, "I have to get up too. That sounds like so much effort. So many stairs and things."

Watching her hand swirl on the plane of his chest still in front of her, she met his gaze again and grinned slightly.

"But I suppose I could make it down there, if I had to. For you."

His eyes softened as he looked down at her, gaze catching on her pout and lingering there for a second longer than was appropriate. Glancing away quickly, he was then transfixed with her eyes, a small grin twitching up the corners of his mouth.

Merlin, how he wanted to kiss her.

"You make it sound like such an ordeal." He said, raising an eyebrow as he shifted slightly, wanting to move but not wanting to displace her. "I could always carry you, I suppose." Any excuse to keep touching her was amazingly doable, that was for sure. "On my back." He amended.

A slight blush brightened his cheeks at her words, but his smile outshined it, the happiness behind it sudden and unexpected. "Awww, you'd do that for little old me?" He teased lightly.

"Of course," she stated, after reluctantly rolling off of him. The room suddenly felt degrees colder when she was forced to be on her own, losing all contact to the other body. "I would do anything for you." The comment had meant to be a continuation of their teasing, but as the words came out of her mouth she couldn't help but soften her tone and sound as serious as ever. A blush crept into her cheeks as she felt the truth of it in her bones, heart, mind - very soul. She really would do anything for him.

Not entirely sure what to do after that, Juliet continued to lay there her declaration hovering in the air - she felt like she should be able to reach out and touch it. Finally, clearing her throat she sat up and began to usher the boy up, her voice squeaking ever so slightly on the first too syllables. A sure sign, as always, that she felt she had been thinking something she shouldn't have been.

Once he was up she wasted no time in taking him up on his offer, jumping onto his back and wrapping her arms and legs around him like a monkey.

"Onward, noble steed!" Her chin was resting on his shoulder, close enough that the soft breath from her teasing voice and the small laugh that followed could be felt brushing against her skin. Juliet herself was distracting herself from just how easily it would have been to just turn her head slight and... "I'm not getting any younger here."

A blush, slow and unsure, started across his face, and he grinned. He wasn't- surely she didn't mean it? There were other, doubtlessly more important, people who deserved Juliet's time. He thought of their moments together as revered, as if he was moving on a timeline that should have been someone else's. He wouldn't leave until that someone else made a major move, took his place and all, but until then he was quite content on stolen time. "And I for you." He swore, holding a fist over his heart and meeting his eyes. "I do not really think you understand how much I would do for you, Juliet." He bowed slightly, before turning around and stooping slightly.

Hold on her secure, he shifted her upward, body celebrating the regained contact between them. Humming he took a caution step forward, before he was moving from her room, down the hallways and steps until they arrived in the kitchen. Moving to the counter, he backed into it so she could sit down atop it, and once she let go he moved away and turned back toward her, eyes sweeping her worriedly.

"Are you sure you should be out of bed? That was some fever."

She was still blushing as she curled into his back, pressing her cheek, remarkably cooled down from what the skin had been only hours before, against his shoulder as she watched the walls of her home fly by. Something was stirring in her chest, that she didn't entirely know what to do with. It was an old feeling, something she had had on occasions before, but there was something new to it. Something different, perhaps stronger than she remembered.

Swinging her legs as she was set on the counter, she grinned at the boy, matching his worry with complete ease of her own. His concern was sweet, heightening that odd feeling fluttering in her chest. She was going to have to do something about that one of these days.

"I'm fine. My bed is so dull anyway," she insisted, "If I even start to feel a hint of sick again, I'll make you take me right back." She gave a softly laugh before leaning back on her palms.

"Now I believe you promised me breakfast."