Since I have finished the recap...
I can once again write fic.
So, joy with me, as the abbess would say.
Visitors
At 8:19 pm exactly, Thomas decides that Christian must go to the infirmary. He is very ill indeed. Thomas escorts him, of course. With an arm about Thomas' shoulders and with Thomas' clearer eyes to guide them, they reach the infirmary with minimal effort. The matron is not pleased to see them. She insists on knowing what all of Christian's symptoms are while industriously readying a bed and taking Christian's temperature. It is 104. The matron's eyes widen slightly and she scolds Thomas for not having brought Christian in earlier. Thomas looks around him helplessly and makes noises to the effect of telling the matron that he thought he could take care of Christian. The matron thinks this is nonsense and tells him so. Then, she promptly dismisses him from her domain. Thomas slinks back, almost guiltily to his room, but does not go in. Rather, he goes next door and lies on Christian's bed. He hopes that whatever Christian has is contagious. It is now nearly 9 pm, and Thomas wraps himself in Christian's bedding, turns off the lights, and lies in the dark waiting to become ill.
Long after sleep, if not the illness, has overtaken Thomas, Christian receive a visitor. It is his uncle, who walks loudly through the hallways, secure in his right to be walking through the school at such an hour. The purpose of his visit is not clear. Nor does it become any more so when Mr. Carlyle Palver, Chairman of the Board of Trustees, uncle and now father to the star, if slighty eccentric, student, and quite clearly A Force To Be Reckoned With, merely opens the door, looks in for less than a minute, and leaves just as abruptly. His expression as he leaves would be difficult to read, were any other there to read it, and although his noisy footfalls failed to disturb on his way to the infirmary, their volume decreases dramatically on his return journey. He moves quietly, lightly, as if afraid of something. However, the thought is ridiculous. Carlyle Palver is a man to be afraid of, not a a man to be afraid.
As soon as Carlyle has disappeared down the hallway, a figure emerges from the shadows and steals into the infirmary. Unlike Carlyle, this visitor is not secure in his right to be walking the hallways. This visitor has no right to be walking the hallways, and therefore feels anxiety. But the anxiety is not enough to keep the visitor away. The infirmary is silent, and the visitor is afraid to make a sound. Aside from Christian and the visitor, the room is deserted. The visitor goes to Christian's bed and kneels beside it, laying a hand on Christian's forehead in the process. Christian's skin is like fire, and, in sleep, his sweat-drenched hair has fallen into his face. The visitor brushes the hair from Christian's eyes, letting his fingers trail down Christian's cheeks as he does so. Christian does not awaken. The visitor lays a hand on Christian's chest. Christian does not awaken. The visitor, now sitting beside Christian on the bed, half-lifts Chirstian into his arms. Christian still does not awaken. The vistor holds Christian and studies his face, as if waiting for something- some sign of consciousness, of recognition, of something. The wait serves no purpose. The drugs Christian have been given have done their job well, and he does not stir. The visitor makes his decision, and holding Christian close, kisses him. The kiss itself is relatively chaste, and when the visitor breaks it, he seeks for nothing more. Rather, he takes Christian's hands in his, as if he would absorb the excess heat from them and spare their owner.
Moments later, Avery lets himself out of the infirmary. He is trembling and seems to have caught whatever it is that Christian has. His body is alight, burning itself into oblivion. Running back to his room he can think only of water and how to quench the fire that seems housed even in his bones. In his room, he finds the coldest water his tap can give him, and fills cup after cup with it, pouring each over his head. Eventually the heat is gone, and he realizes that he is standing in scarcely heated room, in the middle of winter, drenched in icy water. If he caught no illness from Christian, it seems that he will likely pick up one on his own. Caring little either way, Avery falls into bed, and sleeps dreamlessly.
Christian's sleep, however, is not dreamless. He is enough himself to wonder why he dreams, when he had always thought that drugs such as the matron gave him would prevent such a thing. First, he dreams about his father, which is odd, he thinks. He never dreams about his father. It is his theory that so many thoughts tend in that direction during the day, that he has little need of help from his subconscious during the night. He knows he is disturbed about his father's death- hence, his frequent thinking on that subject. But the dream is strange and confused, not at all like Christian daytime thoughts on the matter, which are clear and well thought-out, even if they take him to extreme conclusions. The dream is brutal, violent, short. Unclear images rip through his mind, garbled words ring in his ears. When it is over he remembers none of it, save its subject and the discomfort that it caused him.
And if one dream was not strange enough, Christian somehow manages to have two. In this second dream, an angel comes to him and behaves not at all like Christian would expect an angel to behave. In confusion, Christian opens his eyes and sees that his angel is none other than Avery and that Avery is kissing him. The Avery's eyes are closed, and, as beautiful as the eyes are, the beauty of the face when the eyes are closed is staggering. Christian quickly closes his eyes again and soon after, the angel/Avery leaves him. Christian is profoundly disturbed by this second dream, even more so than by the unremembered first. Christian does not indulge in fantasies, and is horrified that his mind should have betrayed him so apparently. He blames his fever for the shocking, if not so unwelcome vision. In this brief moment of lucidity, he throws his thoughts toward Thomas, and then the delirium possesses him once again.
So, joy with me, as the abbess would say.
Visitors
At 8:19 pm exactly, Thomas decides that Christian must go to the infirmary. He is very ill indeed. Thomas escorts him, of course. With an arm about Thomas' shoulders and with Thomas' clearer eyes to guide them, they reach the infirmary with minimal effort. The matron is not pleased to see them. She insists on knowing what all of Christian's symptoms are while industriously readying a bed and taking Christian's temperature. It is 104. The matron's eyes widen slightly and she scolds Thomas for not having brought Christian in earlier. Thomas looks around him helplessly and makes noises to the effect of telling the matron that he thought he could take care of Christian. The matron thinks this is nonsense and tells him so. Then, she promptly dismisses him from her domain. Thomas slinks back, almost guiltily to his room, but does not go in. Rather, he goes next door and lies on Christian's bed. He hopes that whatever Christian has is contagious. It is now nearly 9 pm, and Thomas wraps himself in Christian's bedding, turns off the lights, and lies in the dark waiting to become ill.
Long after sleep, if not the illness, has overtaken Thomas, Christian receive a visitor. It is his uncle, who walks loudly through the hallways, secure in his right to be walking through the school at such an hour. The purpose of his visit is not clear. Nor does it become any more so when Mr. Carlyle Palver, Chairman of the Board of Trustees, uncle and now father to the star, if slighty eccentric, student, and quite clearly A Force To Be Reckoned With, merely opens the door, looks in for less than a minute, and leaves just as abruptly. His expression as he leaves would be difficult to read, were any other there to read it, and although his noisy footfalls failed to disturb on his way to the infirmary, their volume decreases dramatically on his return journey. He moves quietly, lightly, as if afraid of something. However, the thought is ridiculous. Carlyle Palver is a man to be afraid of, not a a man to be afraid.
As soon as Carlyle has disappeared down the hallway, a figure emerges from the shadows and steals into the infirmary. Unlike Carlyle, this visitor is not secure in his right to be walking the hallways. This visitor has no right to be walking the hallways, and therefore feels anxiety. But the anxiety is not enough to keep the visitor away. The infirmary is silent, and the visitor is afraid to make a sound. Aside from Christian and the visitor, the room is deserted. The visitor goes to Christian's bed and kneels beside it, laying a hand on Christian's forehead in the process. Christian's skin is like fire, and, in sleep, his sweat-drenched hair has fallen into his face. The visitor brushes the hair from Christian's eyes, letting his fingers trail down Christian's cheeks as he does so. Christian does not awaken. The visitor lays a hand on Christian's chest. Christian does not awaken. The visitor, now sitting beside Christian on the bed, half-lifts Chirstian into his arms. Christian still does not awaken. The vistor holds Christian and studies his face, as if waiting for something- some sign of consciousness, of recognition, of something. The wait serves no purpose. The drugs Christian have been given have done their job well, and he does not stir. The visitor makes his decision, and holding Christian close, kisses him. The kiss itself is relatively chaste, and when the visitor breaks it, he seeks for nothing more. Rather, he takes Christian's hands in his, as if he would absorb the excess heat from them and spare their owner.
Moments later, Avery lets himself out of the infirmary. He is trembling and seems to have caught whatever it is that Christian has. His body is alight, burning itself into oblivion. Running back to his room he can think only of water and how to quench the fire that seems housed even in his bones. In his room, he finds the coldest water his tap can give him, and fills cup after cup with it, pouring each over his head. Eventually the heat is gone, and he realizes that he is standing in scarcely heated room, in the middle of winter, drenched in icy water. If he caught no illness from Christian, it seems that he will likely pick up one on his own. Caring little either way, Avery falls into bed, and sleeps dreamlessly.
Christian's sleep, however, is not dreamless. He is enough himself to wonder why he dreams, when he had always thought that drugs such as the matron gave him would prevent such a thing. First, he dreams about his father, which is odd, he thinks. He never dreams about his father. It is his theory that so many thoughts tend in that direction during the day, that he has little need of help from his subconscious during the night. He knows he is disturbed about his father's death- hence, his frequent thinking on that subject. But the dream is strange and confused, not at all like Christian daytime thoughts on the matter, which are clear and well thought-out, even if they take him to extreme conclusions. The dream is brutal, violent, short. Unclear images rip through his mind, garbled words ring in his ears. When it is over he remembers none of it, save its subject and the discomfort that it caused him.
And if one dream was not strange enough, Christian somehow manages to have two. In this second dream, an angel comes to him and behaves not at all like Christian would expect an angel to behave. In confusion, Christian opens his eyes and sees that his angel is none other than Avery and that Avery is kissing him. The Avery's eyes are closed, and, as beautiful as the eyes are, the beauty of the face when the eyes are closed is staggering. Christian quickly closes his eyes again and soon after, the angel/Avery leaves him. Christian is profoundly disturbed by this second dream, even more so than by the unremembered first. Christian does not indulge in fantasies, and is horrified that his mind should have betrayed him so apparently. He blames his fever for the shocking, if not so unwelcome vision. In this brief moment of lucidity, he throws his thoughts toward Thomas, and then the delirium possesses him once again.