Fevered (Mick, PG-13)
Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2010 5:38 am
Just a short piece, filling in some thoughts from a very familiar scene.
Disclaimer: In case anyone's wondering, I don't own Mick.
Fevered
I'm hallucinating.
I've got to be hallucinating.
Leni came in and leaned over me. She said something. I couldn't understand what--it was meaningless. Noise. All I could hear was the red beat of her pulse. I could almost feel the big vein throb in her throat.
I bit her. I promised to protect her and her baby, and I bit her. Her blood tasted bitter, like ashes in my mouth.
I'm pretty sure I killed her. If I turned my head, I'd see her lying on the floor. Abandoned in no star motel hell. What a place to die. I couldn't have killed her, right? But I can't hear the heartbeats anymore, just a roach crawling through sticky liquid on the floor.
If I turned my head, I'm pretty sure I'd see her body lying in a pool of blood.
And then what? Roll out of the tub and start licking the last of her lifeblood off these filthy tiles?
I don't want to turn my head. I don't want to see her. The ice helps some. Not enough. I need more ice, but I can't send her for more now.
Wait, though. I remember--I think I remember--screaming at her to get out. If I killed her, I wouldn't have done that, right?
Right?
Maybe she's safe, maybe she's in the other room.
Why'd she have to come in here, anyway? What was she thinking?
She has no idea what you are, St. John, remember?
If I bit her, she knows now.
Think. Think hard. What's real? What's not?
She told me, she leaned over me, to tell me Beth was coming.
Yeah, and for that, I killed her.
I'm pretty sure I killed her.
Okay, I hope to God I'm hallucinating. But--which part of it was real?
Life? Or death?
Disclaimer: In case anyone's wondering, I don't own Mick.
Fevered
I'm hallucinating.
I've got to be hallucinating.
Leni came in and leaned over me. She said something. I couldn't understand what--it was meaningless. Noise. All I could hear was the red beat of her pulse. I could almost feel the big vein throb in her throat.
I bit her. I promised to protect her and her baby, and I bit her. Her blood tasted bitter, like ashes in my mouth.
I'm pretty sure I killed her. If I turned my head, I'd see her lying on the floor. Abandoned in no star motel hell. What a place to die. I couldn't have killed her, right? But I can't hear the heartbeats anymore, just a roach crawling through sticky liquid on the floor.
If I turned my head, I'm pretty sure I'd see her body lying in a pool of blood.
And then what? Roll out of the tub and start licking the last of her lifeblood off these filthy tiles?
I don't want to turn my head. I don't want to see her. The ice helps some. Not enough. I need more ice, but I can't send her for more now.
Wait, though. I remember--I think I remember--screaming at her to get out. If I killed her, I wouldn't have done that, right?
Right?
Maybe she's safe, maybe she's in the other room.
Why'd she have to come in here, anyway? What was she thinking?
She has no idea what you are, St. John, remember?
If I bit her, she knows now.
Think. Think hard. What's real? What's not?
She told me, she leaned over me, to tell me Beth was coming.
Yeah, and for that, I killed her.
I'm pretty sure I killed her.
Okay, I hope to God I'm hallucinating. But--which part of it was real?
Life? Or death?