Blood - August 29
Twisted Shorts August Fic-a-Day Challenge - Day 29
Title: Blood
Author: hermione2be
Rating: PG-13/FR18/T
Crossover: BtVS/Defiance
Disclaimer: I do not own any of BtVS/Angel or Defiance people, places, or ideas. This fiction is done simply for pleasure and I receive no profit.
Summary: A plague breaks out, but Buffy may hold a cure.
Notes: Loose follow-up to Return to Defiance
Seasons: Post-Series/Season 1 “If I Ever Leave This World Alive”
Word Count: 896
I hate disease, more than I hate living forever. Ever since humans and Votan started sharing this planet it always resulted in everyone pointing fingers. Irathians have one of the strongest immune systems and are carriers for diseases without succumbing to it.
Only Nolan knows what I am, what I can do. It’s possible he told Irisa, it would explain the looks she’s giving me. Then again, she was raised by Nolan and he may have made her strange. I like her through. She’s gruff and direct. She is also a combination of the two things I’m used to dealing with: teenage girls and Irathians. She doesn’t seem much like either.
I enter the sick tent. I would have avoided it, but since I am one of the few who has immunity and medical knowledge I should help. I couldn’t stop the townspeople from locking up the Irathians since most consider them the source of the disease. It reminds me of a high school history class that I should have paid more attention in.
As the tent flap closes behind me I am choked by the scent of sickness. Humans are packed into the tent. Those who are visiting are wearing dark gloves to avoid direct contact with the sick. Castithans gathering around a female human caught my attention. I know the least about Castithans, other than they are a prideful bunch and cling to their roots.
I wander just close enough to hear the young male Castithan claim the female human as his wife.
“Alak,” the adult female Castithan says softly trying to calm him.
“She can’t die,” he mutters fiercely.
“Excuse me,” I step into sight. The adult male Castithan eyes me in a way that makes my skin crawl. But also the warrior in me tense, ready for battle. “I am recently of Defiance. With the outbreak I’m hoping to be of some help.”
“You are human,” the adult female says softly with a small smile. “It would probably be best if you distanced yourself from the sick.”
I gave her a small nod of my head. “I am human, but I am immune.”
“I didn’t know there were any humans immune to Votan diseases,” Creepy Eyes says. He offers a greeting with a smug smile. “I am Datak Tarr. This is my wife Stahma and my son Alak.”
I gave them a careful once over. I turn and bow to Stahma. “The lady does honor to her house.” My words cause her amusement. I drop down on the bed next to the human girl. “What is your fiancée’s name, Alak?”
“Christie,” he answers softly, his large eyes watch me for only a moment. Great love and fear show in his eyes.
I look down at the girl. Her symptoms are more advanced; blood was starting to seep from her eyes.
“She’s in pain,” Alak whispers.
I know what I can do, but I have to be careful. I reach into my bag and pull out a syringe. I pop off the cap and stick into my arm. Extracting just a small amount of blood, it takes skills and it’s easy to damage the vein. I try not to remember the last time I did this.
I can feel all their eyes on me. I should look up, should acknowledge them. Instead I push Christie’s head to the side and rub her neck with a cloth to clear it of blood. It takes a careful angle and jab it into her neck. It’s not the best way, but it works.
“What are you doing?!” Alak demands.
I grab his arm and pull him down. “Shh. I am trying to cure her.”
“You have a cure?” Stagma asks.
“I have O negative blood. I’m a universal donor. And I have been exposed to everything. I should have an antibody that will at least keep her from dying.” I look around the room. “I fear she may be too old for it to work.”
“Too old?” Alak asks.
“I have a good record with children. My blood works like a vaccine for them. It’s no use to adults. She may be on the wrong side of maturity.”
“There are babies and small children who are very sick,” Stahma says softly. “Can you help them?”
“I can,” I observe the Castithan. “But I would like to keep this a secret.”
“Is there a specific dosage?”
“Not really. I do less than 0.5 milliliters for those under five years. Between 0.5 and 1 milliliters for those older,” I explained.
“Then come,” Stahma reaches for my hand. “I believe we can keep your secret and save them.” I take her hand and allow myself to be pulled from the sick tent.
“What’s your idea?” I ask as soon as we are on the deserted street.
“Does the blood have to be drawn from you and immediately injected into the child?”
“No, I have left it in a container before, stored correctly it works the same way.”
“Then we need only draw your blood into a vial,” Stahma says as she opens the door to a very white home. “Once we have it, all we need to do is dispense it as a remedy you acquired in the Divide.”
Once my blood saved the life of my sister, it is amazing what it could still do. I feel my smile stretch. “Thank you, Stahma.”
She simply gives me a wide closed mouth smile and orders materials from her servants.
Title: Blood
Author: hermione2be
Rating: PG-13/FR18/T
Crossover: BtVS/Defiance
Disclaimer: I do not own any of BtVS/Angel or Defiance people, places, or ideas. This fiction is done simply for pleasure and I receive no profit.
Summary: A plague breaks out, but Buffy may hold a cure.
Notes: Loose follow-up to Return to Defiance
Seasons: Post-Series/Season 1 “If I Ever Leave This World Alive”
Word Count: 896
I hate disease, more than I hate living forever. Ever since humans and Votan started sharing this planet it always resulted in everyone pointing fingers. Irathians have one of the strongest immune systems and are carriers for diseases without succumbing to it.
Only Nolan knows what I am, what I can do. It’s possible he told Irisa, it would explain the looks she’s giving me. Then again, she was raised by Nolan and he may have made her strange. I like her through. She’s gruff and direct. She is also a combination of the two things I’m used to dealing with: teenage girls and Irathians. She doesn’t seem much like either.
I enter the sick tent. I would have avoided it, but since I am one of the few who has immunity and medical knowledge I should help. I couldn’t stop the townspeople from locking up the Irathians since most consider them the source of the disease. It reminds me of a high school history class that I should have paid more attention in.
As the tent flap closes behind me I am choked by the scent of sickness. Humans are packed into the tent. Those who are visiting are wearing dark gloves to avoid direct contact with the sick. Castithans gathering around a female human caught my attention. I know the least about Castithans, other than they are a prideful bunch and cling to their roots.
I wander just close enough to hear the young male Castithan claim the female human as his wife.
“Alak,” the adult female Castithan says softly trying to calm him.
“She can’t die,” he mutters fiercely.
“Excuse me,” I step into sight. The adult male Castithan eyes me in a way that makes my skin crawl. But also the warrior in me tense, ready for battle. “I am recently of Defiance. With the outbreak I’m hoping to be of some help.”
“You are human,” the adult female says softly with a small smile. “It would probably be best if you distanced yourself from the sick.”
I gave her a small nod of my head. “I am human, but I am immune.”
“I didn’t know there were any humans immune to Votan diseases,” Creepy Eyes says. He offers a greeting with a smug smile. “I am Datak Tarr. This is my wife Stahma and my son Alak.”
I gave them a careful once over. I turn and bow to Stahma. “The lady does honor to her house.” My words cause her amusement. I drop down on the bed next to the human girl. “What is your fiancée’s name, Alak?”
“Christie,” he answers softly, his large eyes watch me for only a moment. Great love and fear show in his eyes.
I look down at the girl. Her symptoms are more advanced; blood was starting to seep from her eyes.
“She’s in pain,” Alak whispers.
I know what I can do, but I have to be careful. I reach into my bag and pull out a syringe. I pop off the cap and stick into my arm. Extracting just a small amount of blood, it takes skills and it’s easy to damage the vein. I try not to remember the last time I did this.
I can feel all their eyes on me. I should look up, should acknowledge them. Instead I push Christie’s head to the side and rub her neck with a cloth to clear it of blood. It takes a careful angle and jab it into her neck. It’s not the best way, but it works.
“What are you doing?!” Alak demands.
I grab his arm and pull him down. “Shh. I am trying to cure her.”
“You have a cure?” Stagma asks.
“I have O negative blood. I’m a universal donor. And I have been exposed to everything. I should have an antibody that will at least keep her from dying.” I look around the room. “I fear she may be too old for it to work.”
“Too old?” Alak asks.
“I have a good record with children. My blood works like a vaccine for them. It’s no use to adults. She may be on the wrong side of maturity.”
“There are babies and small children who are very sick,” Stahma says softly. “Can you help them?”
“I can,” I observe the Castithan. “But I would like to keep this a secret.”
“Is there a specific dosage?”
“Not really. I do less than 0.5 milliliters for those under five years. Between 0.5 and 1 milliliters for those older,” I explained.
“Then come,” Stahma reaches for my hand. “I believe we can keep your secret and save them.” I take her hand and allow myself to be pulled from the sick tent.
“What’s your idea?” I ask as soon as we are on the deserted street.
“Does the blood have to be drawn from you and immediately injected into the child?”
“No, I have left it in a container before, stored correctly it works the same way.”
“Then we need only draw your blood into a vial,” Stahma says as she opens the door to a very white home. “Once we have it, all we need to do is dispense it as a remedy you acquired in the Divide.”
Once my blood saved the life of my sister, it is amazing what it could still do. I feel my smile stretch. “Thank you, Stahma.”
She simply gives me a wide closed mouth smile and orders materials from her servants.