Resurrection Fever
A story in my Gods and Shadow Creatures universe, written for hc_bingo. Apparently being resurrected really kind of sucks. Warning for mentioned [trigger]rape.
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Nico sat by Breccan’s bedside, watching him as he shook with chills from a strange fever. The young man’s sleeping face was flushed, almost as red as his hair, and covered in a sheen of sweat. A hand to his forehead told Nico he was still burning up, with no sign of the fever breaking. Nico quickly withdrew his hand -- he couldn’t do much more to help the man, not with this kind of fever.
Breccan didn’t have any ordinary illness or infection -- his fever came from being resurrected. He had died, saving Nico from a shadow creature. The memory made him cringe; he should have been able to fight the damn thing, but, somehow, the creature was resistant to his divine powers.
While he berated himself, Isabel entered the room. She moved as silently as one of the shadows they fought, and he only noticed her when she stood right before him. He startled slightly -- the woman made him uneasy. Shadowy tendrils crawled about her skin, and her eyes were solid black, but those things didn’t bother him as much as her obvious anger.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she hissed, glaring at Nico.
His eyes widened; how could he enjoy watching Breccan sick with resurrection fever? He might not even survive it, and then Nico’s efforts to bring him back would have been for nothing.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, shaking her head. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He stared at the ground to avoid her pitch-black glare. “I don’t,” he whispered.
She snorted in obvious disbelief. “I know how you feel about Breccan. When he’s sick like this, he’s too weak to tell you to go away. You’re just waiting for the right moment to take advantage of him, aren’t you?”
“I’m -- I’m not,” he said, feeling his stomach twist. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You did it to Clara.” Her lips turned up in a mirthless smile.
Nico couldn’t respond to that, for it was entirely too true. He just kept staring at the ground and felt his body begin to tremble.
“Maris said it was okay for you to stay with him in case you could do something to save him, but I’m watching you,” Isabel muttered. “Just know that.” She turned on her heel and left the room, as silently as she had entered it.
When she was finally gone, Nico breathed a sigh of relief. He looked over at Breccan again, hating the distress he saw in the feverish man. What could he do, though? Nico stayed by his side, but for what reason? While he had told Maris and the others he would watch Breccan in case he could use his powers to help somehow, he knew his abilities couldn’t do much. He wasn’t staying with the young man for the reason Isabel accused him of -- was he?
Breccan whimpered in his sleep. His gray eyes snapped open; they shone wild with a fear of something Nico couldn’t see. “The shadows. The shadows. They’re going to kill us,” he said. “They’re chasing us.”
He sat up and grabbed Nico’s arm. “They’re chasing us, and I can’t save you again,” he said, his voice and body shaking.
“It’s just a vision. Nothing -- nothing to worry about,” Nico murmured. Breccan gripped him hard enough it hurt, but he didn’t make him let go. Resurrection fever could result in terrifying dreams, he knew.
“But they’re going to kill us,” he whimpered.
Feeling desperate, Nico sent a wave of healing energy through Breccan. Dreams like this probably couldn’t be healed, but he wouldn’t just do nothing. It hurt too much watching the young man in such fear. For a moment, Breccan glowed a soft white as Nico’s power ran through him. His grip slackened, and he let go of Nico, falling back onto the bed with the soaked sheets piled around his waist.
He still trembled and his eyes didn’t lose that wild fear. “They’re after us. They’re still after us,” he said.
Briefly, Nico wondered if his seduction powers could somehow counteract the fevered hallucinations, but he stopped the thought as soon as he had it. That would be a terrible idea for so many reasons. He shook his head violently, feeling his face burn because he contemplated it even for a moment.
Breccan grabbed him again, shaking even worse than before. “Nico, I don’t want you to die.”
“I’m not going to die, don’t you worry,” he murmured, smiling just slightly. He could assure him of that, at least. Not much could kill a god, and there weren’t any real shadow creatures in the room.
“You can’t die, not after I saved you. I don’t want to lose you,” Breccan said, his voice shrill and strained.
“I’m not,” he said. “I promise.”
The resurrection fever caused Breccan to act awfully strange. Normally, he wouldn’t show such desperate feeling towards Nico, and, now, his eyes held something else in addition to the still-present wild fear. It made Nico’s heart stop, though he couldn’t even say what it was.
His grip on Nico tightened. “If you die, I’ll die. I love you.” With that, he let go and collapsed onto the bed again, seemingly asleep once more.
Nico sat there, frozen -- he had heard Breccan’s words, as clear as anything. He trembled -- all that was just an effect of the fever.
Wasn’t it?
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Nico sat by Breccan’s bedside, watching him as he shook with chills from a strange fever. The young man’s sleeping face was flushed, almost as red as his hair, and covered in a sheen of sweat. A hand to his forehead told Nico he was still burning up, with no sign of the fever breaking. Nico quickly withdrew his hand -- he couldn’t do much more to help the man, not with this kind of fever.
Breccan didn’t have any ordinary illness or infection -- his fever came from being resurrected. He had died, saving Nico from a shadow creature. The memory made him cringe; he should have been able to fight the damn thing, but, somehow, the creature was resistant to his divine powers.
While he berated himself, Isabel entered the room. She moved as silently as one of the shadows they fought, and he only noticed her when she stood right before him. He startled slightly -- the woman made him uneasy. Shadowy tendrils crawled about her skin, and her eyes were solid black, but those things didn’t bother him as much as her obvious anger.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she hissed, glaring at Nico.
His eyes widened; how could he enjoy watching Breccan sick with resurrection fever? He might not even survive it, and then Nico’s efforts to bring him back would have been for nothing.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, shaking her head. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He stared at the ground to avoid her pitch-black glare. “I don’t,” he whispered.
She snorted in obvious disbelief. “I know how you feel about Breccan. When he’s sick like this, he’s too weak to tell you to go away. You’re just waiting for the right moment to take advantage of him, aren’t you?”
“I’m -- I’m not,” he said, feeling his stomach twist. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You did it to Clara.” Her lips turned up in a mirthless smile.
Nico couldn’t respond to that, for it was entirely too true. He just kept staring at the ground and felt his body begin to tremble.
“Maris said it was okay for you to stay with him in case you could do something to save him, but I’m watching you,” Isabel muttered. “Just know that.” She turned on her heel and left the room, as silently as she had entered it.
When she was finally gone, Nico breathed a sigh of relief. He looked over at Breccan again, hating the distress he saw in the feverish man. What could he do, though? Nico stayed by his side, but for what reason? While he had told Maris and the others he would watch Breccan in case he could use his powers to help somehow, he knew his abilities couldn’t do much. He wasn’t staying with the young man for the reason Isabel accused him of -- was he?
Breccan whimpered in his sleep. His gray eyes snapped open; they shone wild with a fear of something Nico couldn’t see. “The shadows. The shadows. They’re going to kill us,” he said. “They’re chasing us.”
He sat up and grabbed Nico’s arm. “They’re chasing us, and I can’t save you again,” he said, his voice and body shaking.
“It’s just a vision. Nothing -- nothing to worry about,” Nico murmured. Breccan gripped him hard enough it hurt, but he didn’t make him let go. Resurrection fever could result in terrifying dreams, he knew.
“But they’re going to kill us,” he whimpered.
Feeling desperate, Nico sent a wave of healing energy through Breccan. Dreams like this probably couldn’t be healed, but he wouldn’t just do nothing. It hurt too much watching the young man in such fear. For a moment, Breccan glowed a soft white as Nico’s power ran through him. His grip slackened, and he let go of Nico, falling back onto the bed with the soaked sheets piled around his waist.
He still trembled and his eyes didn’t lose that wild fear. “They’re after us. They’re still after us,” he said.
Briefly, Nico wondered if his seduction powers could somehow counteract the fevered hallucinations, but he stopped the thought as soon as he had it. That would be a terrible idea for so many reasons. He shook his head violently, feeling his face burn because he contemplated it even for a moment.
Breccan grabbed him again, shaking even worse than before. “Nico, I don’t want you to die.”
“I’m not going to die, don’t you worry,” he murmured, smiling just slightly. He could assure him of that, at least. Not much could kill a god, and there weren’t any real shadow creatures in the room.
“You can’t die, not after I saved you. I don’t want to lose you,” Breccan said, his voice shrill and strained.
“I’m not,” he said. “I promise.”
The resurrection fever caused Breccan to act awfully strange. Normally, he wouldn’t show such desperate feeling towards Nico, and, now, his eyes held something else in addition to the still-present wild fear. It made Nico’s heart stop, though he couldn’t even say what it was.
His grip on Nico tightened. “If you die, I’ll die. I love you.” With that, he let go and collapsed onto the bed again, seemingly asleep once more.
Nico sat there, frozen -- he had heard Breccan’s words, as clear as anything. He trembled -- all that was just an effect of the fever.
Wasn’t it?