I, too, needed your help (Geralt/Jaskier)

Chapter 6

Geralt stared at the lifeless body lying on a dirty, muddy road for a few seconds before coming back to his senses. Nobody moved before he did, the dwarfs cautiously stood still, bewildered expressions on their faces. None of them dared to utter some clever remark; the aura around the witcher seemed too hostile.

Everyone just witnessed a love confession of the century, which ended even faster than it began.

Suddenly, Geralt moved, kneeling next to the bard. He grasped Jaskier's shoulder, shaking it violently. His actions were unnatural. Usually, he would never use so much force with a human being, but the witcher simply couldn't hold back. Geralt's mind was blank and a bit hazy, stunned with a momentary shock that was escalating into a panic.

Despite the witcher's attempts, Jaskier didn't wake up. His eyes remained closed, shallow breaths coming out of his mouth. His body shivered lightly, goosebumps appearing on his exposed chest.

Only then Geralt noticed the overall state of the poor guy. He was missing a shirt, and his skin was decorated with small cuts and bruises. As the witcher finally sensed, Jaskier's temperature was too high for a healthy human.

He looked so fragile. Without his overbearing presence, Jaskier's body resembled a broken shell.

"Damn it!" Geralt muttered angrily, picking the bard's body up and throwing him over his shoulder. He was much lighter than the witcher remembered.

Both rode the new Roach, Geralt having the biggest Deja Vu from before, when the bard got attacked by a genie. His stomach scrunched in uneasiness, waves of worry washing over him.

He'd never forgive himself if something happened to Jaskier.

They still had too much to talk about, and too many misunderstandings to address.

I'll not let you die on me, Geralt thought frantically, you've got a lot of explaining to do.

***

Jaskier woke to unpleasant rocking. Was he on a ship?

Forcing his leaded eyelids open was a workout itself and he gave up halfway, deciding to stay in the darkness. For some reason, he felt comfortable. Relaxed. When was the last time he felt this way? Probably since... never.

There was no fear bugging him in his gut, no adrenaline kicking in. No traces of anxiety, just endless peace coating his whole body. If it wasn't for the uncomfortable rocking, he'd feel like he was floating.

Was I drugged? Flashed Jaskier's mind but even this thought didn't alert him. If it indeed was the case, he didn't mind. It felt so good he ought to get more of the drug later.

He couldn't remember much and every time he tried to think about what happened, his head was bumped against something solid which distracted him.

Then the pain kicked in.

Then a most skull-tearing headache Jaskier had ever experienced nestled right behind his eyes. It was like a bad hangover multiplied by ten. The bard made a weak grunting sound involuntarily, his expression scrunched in agony. He couldn't stop the quiet whines, his discomfort was too big.

"Jaskier?"

A familiar voice asked. Jaskier couldn't remember why it was familiar. At least, the rocking stopped, otherwise he'd sicken up then and there.

"Can you hear me? Jaskier?"

The voice was so gentle and soothing. If it wasn't deep and silky, the bard would have thought it belonged to his mother. He felt like crying, he just wished to beg the person to make him well, to make the dizzying pain disappear, but no words formed on his tongue.