Mon Étoile

Chapter Eight

Two Years Ago

"Nico!" Hercule cried, rushing forward to support me as Marius and I got through the door. I shook, beginning to cough as well. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me as he said, "Marius, pull my cot in front of the fire and then go and get Joly."

Marius did so and soon I was under a pile of covers with the warmth of the fire seeping into my skin. "I got here as quickly as I could," Joly said, moving over to me quickly as Hercule paced to and fro. I was hardly aware of what was happening as he felt my forehead. Finally, he said, "She has a fever."

"What do I need to do?" Hercule asked.

"There isn't much you can do. You just need to wait until the fever breaks and change her surroundings to accommodate when she feels cold or hot," Joly said. "And she needs to drink lots of water and get some food in her." Crouching down beside me, he asked, "Nicolette, when was the last time you had some water?"

Groggily, I said, "D-do I get water now? I think I'm ill. The water from last week wasn't enough." I broke off into a hacking cough.

With a sigh, Joly said, "If they were depriving her of water she was probably starved. Give her small amounts of food. I'll be back tomorrow." He and Marius left and Hercule left me for a moment before returning with a cup of water.

"Mon chéri, you need to drink," he said softly, crouching down beside me. My face had lost all of its color, and I couldn't sit up. Setting down the water, he gently lifted me up and sat on the bed so I was laying against his chest. Carefully, he gave me some water. My breathing was heavily constricted and I winced in pain when he lifted me up. Once the cup was empty, he lay me back down and tucked the covers around me.

He disappeared again and returned with a small plate of food. I barely got down the equivalent of a bite of food before I felt nauseous. Seeing I was finished, he set aside the plate and asked worriedly, "Do you need anything?" I let out a small groan and shifted slightly but didn't speak. With a sigh, he kissed my sweaty forehead just before I drifted asleep.

The next month passed in a hazy blur. My injuries prolonged my sickness and I was confined to my cot by the fire. Hercule saved my life, patiently nursing me back to health. About a week in, Joly was able to determine that in addition to a fever, I also had two broken ribs and severe bruising all over my body. Hercule spent the rest of that day fuming, his gentle kindness only making an appearance around me.

He made sure I was drinking lots and steadily began giving me more and more food. On the nights I lay restlessly awake, he would read to me until I fell asleep. One night, he had been reading to me until he assumed I was asleep. Setting aside the book, he brushed my hair out of my face and stayed sitting there before a sound I had never heard from him before left his lips.

A bitter sob left his mouth and the cot shifted just slightly as he leaned against the frame. Opening my eyes, I saw that he was crying. Agitated, he wiped at the tears on his face, but it was no use. They were quickly replaced again with new ones. Finally, he buried his head in his hands and cried as if every bitter emotion he had ever felt was suddenly pouring out of him.

"Hercule?" I whispered, moving over to him.

Trying to blink away all his tears, he looked away from me and, his voice cracking, asked, "What are you doing? You need to stay in bed." Despite my protests, he gently forced me back under the covers while still trying to hide his tears.

He tried to walk away, but I grabbed his hand and asked, "What's wrong?" He sighed, but complied with my hold and sat down on the floor by the cot, putting him at eye level to me. Cupping his cheek, I said, "Talk to me."

With a sigh, he said finally, "I hate seeing you like this and it's my fault."

"How is this your fault?" I asked.

"I could've gotten back to you, but I couldn't get through the crowd and so you-"

"Stop," I interrupted. "You just said it. You couldn't have gone through the crowd. None of this is your fault." A tear fell down his cheek and I reached out and wiped it away. I went to move my hand, but he leaned into my touch as if it was the only thing in the world that was comforting to him so I left my hand there. He looked more vulnerable in this moment than I had ever seen him and all I wanted was to give him a hug.

"I...I should've done better," he whispered.

"Stop," I countered softly, running my thumb over his cheekbone. "You did nothing wrong so forgive yourself, mon amour."

Present Day

Setting aside the glass of water I'd been holding, I said solemnly, "I got better, eventually, but something changed during those months."

"What do you mean?" Léo asked, brows furrowed.

"Well..."

One Year Ago

"Hercule!" I called, approaching him as he was about to enter Café Musain.

He looked back and said, "I told you, there isn't a meeting today."

"Liar," I snapped angrily. "Marius showed up looking for you and he told me that there have been meetings every day, just like normal. Not the once every three or four days you've been telling me. So explain why you've been lying to me!"

With a sigh, he said, "Can we just talk about this later? Just go home. We'll talk when I get back."

My eyes flashing, I snapped, "I'm not going anywhere unless you give me a valid reason to. And no, you telling me to is not a valid reason. I'm as much a part of this group as you are." Hercule sighed, his jaw clenched irritably.

When he didn't say anything, I yelled, "Is that all you're going to say?!"

"Just go home, Nico," he thundered, his voice rising so loud I swear I heard my ears ringing. I swallowed, looking away to hide my now-watery eyes. As I didn't trust my voice, I simply stayed silent. His voice softening, he added, "Please." At this, I glared at him. At the sight of the tears in my eyes, his expression shifted to one of guilt. I pushed past him, knocking my shoulder against his. Once inside, I sat in the farthest chair from where he usually sat and I resolved to remain quiet for the entire meeting.

The noise of shouts has always bothered me, but to be yelled at by one you love is an entirely different matter. My emotional reaction to the trigger caused me to be fighting off tears for the first half-hour of the meeting, but as more time passed, my emotions melded together to form anger. The tension in the air was so thick the other amis remained hesitant and awkward for the entire two hours. At long last, only Hercule and I remained. I was still ignoring him, my anger bubbling just below the surface. He tried to work on one of his speeches, but he finally gave up and sat in front of me. I rolled my eyes and looked away from him, my arms crossed over my chest.

"You're mad at me," he stated. Slowly, I moved my fuming gaze over to him, my eyes blazing. He averted his eyes. With a frustrated sigh, he rubbed his eyes as he said, "Nico, there's just a lot you don't understand about the danger of all this."

My anger finally boiling over, I snapped in a loud, ringing tone, "Excuse me?" When he didn't say anything, I fumed, "Are you kidding me right now? You think that I'm the one who doesn't understand? That's rich coming from you. What, spent a couple of years out here so you think you understand all of this? I understand better than you do the danger of this city and this revolution!"

Anger flared up in Hercule's eyes as his jaw clenched and he snapped, "Don't use my past against me. I can't control it anymore than you can. Is it not worth anything that I'm trying?" Scoffing, I turned to leave. "We're not done with this conversation," he called.

"Actually, I think we are," I retorted, not stopping and turning only to glare at him.